TownCrier/Faction Attraction/The Dae'Randir

This is a creative work set in the world of Elanthia, attributed to its original author(s). It does not necessarily represent the official lore of GemStone IV.

Title: Faction Attraction - The Dae'Randir

Author:

Onar. He is known as the assassin Arkati, who works for coin at the behest of the Arkati, eliminating threats without judgment or remorse. These acts of elimination occur away from the forest hunts, affluent merchants, and lavish mansions where people live comfortable lives. Instead, it is in the rumored underbelly where one can acquire jobs for coin, be it a shakeup or a robbery, some intelligence gathering, or even murder. Some would call these skullduggery acts brazen, callous, and even deplorable. But what happens when followers of Onar take up the assassin's blade in the hopes of maintaining balance? Is it possible to take up the act of elimination with as much indifference as the dagger used? One such organization has taken up this charge in the name of Onar, maintaining Order when the scales go from one end to the next. This is The Dae'randir.

Carefully laid coordinates placed me in swampy terrain far from the grasslands, making quiet travel rather difficult to head in or out. A likely obstacle created by a group that valued secrecy and anonymity. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a quartet of representatives of the Dae’Randir; among them, my Mentor, Wolfloner

Hosts

Wolfloner Nao'Javar the Guardian of Icemule Trace

He appears to be a Half-Elf of the Tehir tribes.

He is tall. He appears to be in the prime of life. He has piercing shadow grey eyes and tanned skin. He has short, silky black hair streaked with silver. He has a flaring nose.

He is in good shape.

He is wearing a silver-bladed dagger medallion, a hooded ridgeweaver silk cloak in gradients of grey, an enruned gold buckle, an obsidian-bound fireleaf badge, a small bone periapt, a shadowy grey cracked skull pin, a dark leather weapon harness slung over his shoulder, a zelnorn buckler slung over his other shoulder, a grey silk knapsack, and a sun-weathered black leather vest over a black silk shirt with silver cuffs, some darkened vruul skin gloves etched with Tehir runes, a black thrak-hide highwayman's belt with a silver buckle engraved with two crossed knives, a silvery mesh coin bag, a loosely woven spidersilk sack, a neutral-toned pouch of diamond-scaled rattlesnake skin, some deep black leather pants, a leather myklian-scaled toolkit, and some nightmare hide boots.

Twisting vines writhe around Watcher, obscuring her in an ever-shifting barrier of thorns.

She appears to be a Sylvankind.

She is tall. She appears to have come of age. She has gold-variegated foxfire green eyes and soft, creamy white skin. She has waist length, honey blonde hair threaded with pale blonde highlights. She has an aloofness in her eyes that contrasts the warmth of her upturned lips. She has opalescent urglaes-hued lacquer brushed onto her sharpened fingernails.

She has a collection of inked tendrils on her forearms.

She is in good shape.

She is wearing a tangled sephwir branch choker carved in jet, a shadowy enveloping mantle, a suit of steel splint mail patterned in alternating smoke grey and ebon scales, a soft dark cotton tunic side-split from hem to waist, some black alloy vambraces, a hip-slung ashen leather kit, and a black chainsil loincloth draped from a series of shadowglass rings.

Xanlin the Master Rogue

He appears to be a Human.

He is tall in stature. He appears to be in the spring of life. He has dark-lashed umber eyes and sun-kissed, lightly freckled skin. He has chin length, tousled brown hair with dark ebon streaks. He has an unshaven face, a classical nose and dark, well-defined eyebrows.

He has a pair of curved obsidian spikes in his left eyebrow, a polished black diamond stud in his lip, and a trio of jagged claw marks tattooed across his forearm.

He is in good shape.

He is wearing a gold and golden topaz crown, an emerald-set pewter torc, a small silver talisman, a wrist-buckled black leather jacket split down each side, a solid ghezyte egg pin, a shimmering trinket, a quintuple orb brooch, a glowing dark crimson rose, an opal-inset silver brooch, a hammered silver trefoil set within a disc of pale mistwood, a black-edged brown leather satchel, a shadowy aqilorn haversack, a black knapsack, a loosely woven kaftan, a half-buttoned dark blue silk shirt, a coiled mithglin chain armband, a tooled dragonfire opal armband, some dark leather brawling gloves, an inlaid gold ring, a full-finger dark steel band encircled by thin barbs, a small copper buzzer, a thin black leather belt, a lacquered hip-satchel woven from green reeds, a belt pack, a black pouch, some ebon leather pants side-secured with a trio of dark crystal buckles, a thigh-strapped slim vaalorn kit, a black leather disarming case, and some dark leather brawling boots.

Thirteen the Shadowwalker.

She appears to be an Aelotoi of the Gaeh'deh Clan.

She is tall. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has thick-lashed dark hazel eyes and dusky skin. She has mid back-length, glossy jet black hair held back behind the ears by a glaes avian skull suspending a golden Imaera lacewing butterfly from a hollow eye socket. She has an angular face, a slender, delicately flared nose and well-groomed, thin dark eyebrows. She has a pair of glimmering black-veined wings bordered by opaline snow white droplets.

She is in good shape.

She is wearing a tall choker of thick golden bands, a deep black silk taffeta robe, a mesh cloth-of-gold carryall slung over her shoulder, an off-shoulder black silk blouse with loose sleeves, several stacked gold armbands arrayed in channels of iridescent blue peridots, a set of sleek scalemail, a wristcuff of twined bands of lustrous bronze and textured gold, a long-cut alexandrite band, an ornate gold finger talon, a vaalin-laced keyring, a distressed russet leather toolkit, a black silk veiled skirt, and a pair of gilt honeycomb lace high-heeled shoes.

A Deadly Shadow.

He appears to be a Dark Elf.

He has vacant matte black eyes and rough, coconut brown skin. He has long, sleek black hair held back in a ponytail with a simple band. He has well-muscled shoulders and arms.

His face is concealed by a darkened spidersilk mask.

He has an eahnor-inset dragonmist crystal shard in his right eyebrow, and an illusory shadow pattern inked on his neck.

He is in good shape.

The spidersilk of his robe writhes unnaturally about him, concealing his form.

Introduction

A dark obsidian pathway bisects the large courtyard leading to an archaic stone monastery. A looming tower rises from the top of the ancient building, sparsely lit from within by a candle at a solitary window. Covered bronze lanterns light the pathway and the steel-reinforced solid wood entrance door. The quiet rustling of woody vines fills the air. You also see a stone bridge.

Thirteen flutters her wings at you.

Yardie: I am rather surprised. I did not know you were a part of the Dae'randir.

Wolfloner: Blade Yardie is with the TownCrier. Seems the crier wants to talk to us.

Wolfloner: Ondreian sends his regrets. He was unable to attend. But he consents for me to pass along some of the histories of the Dae'randir.

Yardie: Well, to be fair, it's not just the TownCrier. I'm doing it on their behalf, but I am learning, discussing, and trying to show Elanthia these different groups."

Watcher: To what purpose?

Thirteen: Gathering knowledge is its own reward.

Yardie: To feature them, promote them, learn about these different groups, and perhaps pass those who might be interested. Most people are in the dark.

Watcher (chuckling): There is a certain irony to that.

Wolfloner: Introductions perhaps; he may not know all of us?

For those unfamiliar, most assassins operate under the strict discipline of anonymity. As I am quite familiar with this line of work, understanding the etiquette requires maintaining that veil. Therefore, some of the members of the Dae’Randir chose to use their professional monikers, and I have chosen to honor that request. The introductions provided have given their aliases unless the person indicated otherwise. Failure to comply might be hazardous to my health. Most of them expressed some talents in stealth that challenged my keen eyes. But their presence was amiable with a hint of menace.

Thirteen turns to you and bows low, spreading her wings for all to see.

Yardie: I've seen you about a few times.

Xanlin nods in agreement.

Wolfloner: Deadly Shadow is a veteran of many campaigns.

Yardie: I've also seen you.

I felt a sense of calm and camaraderie that could easily burst into flames had I not been familiar. It was like a high-stakes Lich Bones game where the room could break into a knife fight if someone was cross or deceitful.

Wolfloner: You want to talk first. Or would you like to take a look around?

Yardie: I presume we can do both. I take it we're amongst shadow walkers and the like, yes?

Wolfloner smiles at you.

Watcher nods in agreement.

Wolfloner: Watcher is the designer of the upgrades to the monastery and the grounds.

Yardie: So, I begin with this disclaimer: if there are matters you do not wish the public to know, please inform me. I would not wish to be a....mark or client.

Deadly Shadow: I'm unsure if I’m publicly known as a member.

Watcher: You will have to excuse us. Many of us are not very talkative. You are not going to be marked, or a ... client.

Thirteen: Yet. Thirteen smiles.

Even with my familiarity with this world and even in knowing the charming Thirteen, it remained difficult to tell when one was joking and one was not.

Watcher (agreeing with Thirteen): Yet.

It is not uncommon for businesspeople to find themselves contracted as a mark. The risks are understood. Generous as they were, I was being studied, and I did the same to them. One never knows when someone might take an interest in one’s disappearance. I had no desire to fade away any time soon.

Deadly Shadow: I figure they will know soon enough. It's fine.

Wolfloner: Refer to him as a deadly shadow.

Watcher: I prefer to be known as the Watcher.

Xanlin: Xanlin is fine for me.

Xanlin's shoulders shake subtly as he struggles to compose his features, revealing a glimmer of mirth before returning to a poker face.

Yardie: So I can keep to the anonymity. Are you fine with descriptions or....not?

Watcher quietly says, Vague.

Thirteen: You want my real name?

Thirteen raises an eyebrow in your direction.

Yardie: Only if you wish to share it.

Xanlin waggles his fingers mystically at you! Ooh! Scary!

Yardie flinches.

Thirteen: Thirteen.

Thirteen nods to you.

Wolfloner grins coldly, his eyes reflecting no emotion.

Yardie: Thirteen it is.

Watcher looks thoughtfully at Thirteen.

Thirteen smiles.

Yardie (to Wolfloner): Of course, I'm not hiding your information.

Wolfloner nods to you.

Thirteen: Shadowmaster is our face, after all.

Wolfloner: Shall we take a quick around the monastery? In more ways than one.

Watcher chuckles.

You nod at Wolfloner.

Logistics

Wolfloner: Ondreian chose the location for the monastery carefully. He used the same ground during the first Griffon Sword War. It has tactical advantages.

Yardie: Why here, then? I was er...elsewhere...during the Griffon Sword War.

Watcher: Swamp is hard to travel through.

Wolfloner: And yet you excelled.

Thirteen flutters her wings at A Deadly Shadow.

Deadly Shadow: Only for those who do not walk on water. I've been training

Yardie: Hard to hide in as well.

The Nexus

Wolfloner darkly says, This is a nexus. It leads to many places within the monastery.

Round tapered sandstone columns tower overhead, extending upward to a vaulted ceiling. A crimson embroidered rug extends from the entrance to arcading arches flanked by two brass pedestaled braziers displayed beneath an arched doorway on the second-floor balcony. A flight of flagstone stairs scales one wall and disappears behind a bend, while a flight of spiral steps descends through the floor into darkness.

Wolfloner: Here is our underground lake...You can fish here, and cook what you catch on the firepit.

A long flight of stone steps descends into an enormous cavern, the ceiling above fading from sight as the grotto stretches upward. Almost completely concealed in shadows, a generous lake nearly consumes the entire area, water gently lapping against its bank. A small firepit sits centrally within a large rock circle, and a pile of sticks and short logs has been placed on the ground outside the formation. Secured to a short pier, a plywood dinghy bobs up and down in the water.

Watcher: We have many amenities for our members.

Amenities were a generous word. Supplies for a hideout away from attention, away from traffic, and away from the public eye made the hideout just that. If attention grew too hot, they had an escape and enough to survive.

Wolfloner: It is a grand place for telling stories.

Yardie: Self-sufficient.

Watcher nods in agreement.

Yardie (gazing with interest at a small fire sheltered in a circle of stones): Were you all in danger from the Griffin Sword Saga?

Wolfloner: It was a different time. But dangerous certainly. This is the observatory.

Wolfloner grabs the telescope and turns it to the north. Wolfloner peers into the telescope.

Hanging from the central timbers of the arched steeple is a grand bronze bell. Four arched openings offer a panoramic view of the sky and surrounding swamp. Platform scaffolding runs along the inner stone wall, with small wooden ladders hanging down at equal intervals. Perched on the northern platform is a massive multi-lens telescope with a large wooden stand beside it, with several tables and chairs ringing the scaffolding. The stone walls seem to glimmer with an afterglow from the pale moonlight.

Yardie: Keeping tabs on anyone coming or going.

Wolfloner (nodding): Some of us do track the movements of celestial bodies." Wolfloner nods at Watcher. "The bell has some history."

Accused at the Dais

Moving deeper down the flagstone stairs, my eyes took in the room, and my attention immediately fell upon the dais.

Round tapered sandstone columns tower overhead, extending upward to a vaulted ceiling. A crimson embroidered rug extends from the entrance to arcading arches flanked by two brass pedestaled braziers displayed beneath an arched doorway on the second floor balcony. A flight of flagstone stairs scales one wall and disappears behind a bend, while a flight of spiral steps descends through the floor into darkness.

Watcher: One wonders what might be done here.

The sleek obsidian floor and walls of this circular chamber disperse light so completely that it is difficult to discern where one ends and another begins. A domed ceiling with an oculus at its apex allows a focused ray of moonlight to pierce a raised dais in the center of the room. Curved benches are lined up along the perimeter, and an ebon statue of a figure draped in black cloth stands next to an elaborately carved high-back seat, sculpted together out of a single piece of stone.

Yardie: "Now, this is peculiar."

Temptation proved too great to bear. I approached the dias.

Yardie: What is this about over here?

You point at a raised dais.

Wolfloner: Here stands the accused, Yardie.

Wolfloner glances at you.

Thirteen appears to be trying hard not to grin.

You blink at Wolfloner.

Deadly Shadow: I did it. Whatever it was.

Wolfloner smiles at A Deadly Shadow.

Yardie (confused): Wait, what?

Watcher: Death to the accused.

Wolfloner: Giving you a feel for where you are.

One always dreads the day when their hour will come when they might be discovered and forced to take in their last breath. I am not proud to admit that I seized up for a second. That second felt like an eternity.

Deadly Shadow: I did it.

Wolfloner: You stand on the proverbial spot.

Yardie: So this is....a place where criminals or targets are taken?

Wolfloner: A Deadly Shadow scares me too. It is okay.

Wolfloner: This is the Hall of Trials.

Deadly Shadow (laughing): I'm not scary.

Wolfloner: Rysus once stood on that dais as you are now."

Watcher (to Shadow): You are a teddy bear, I keep telling everyone I know.

Yardie: For what charge?"

A Deadly Shadow nods at Watcher.

Watcher gives a sidelong glance at Wolfloner.

Wolfloner: Was a negotiation. Negotiations, initiations, contracts. All in the Hall of Trials

Yardie: And what were you negotiating for, if you don't mind me asking?

Wolfloner: Want to give you a feel for where you stand. Is that not what you came for?

Thirteen raises an eyebrow.

Thirteen glances at A Deadly Shadow.

Wolfloner glances at a dark alcove.

A raven-hued tapestry is stretched across one side of this dark alcove, aiding in muffling sounds from the outer chamber. Wrought iron sconces are hung on either side of the entrance, and a carved pedestal is centrally displayed. A cracked white skull is suspended over the platform, its hollow sockets directed at the tapestry. A decorated altar rests against the wall at the far end of the chamber.

Yardie: To get an understanding of the Dae'randir, definitely.

I gained an understanding of the Dae'randir. Negotiations did not involve accusations nor did they involve Trials. The intricacies of the group were becoming clear to me, admirable, but frightening.

Prayers to Onar

Wolfloner: This is a quiet place for reflection.

:Reverently, Watcher bows her head as she touches the altar, murmuring a prayer to the god Onar. After a long pause, Watcher lifts her head back up and looks around.

Watcher smiles.

Thirteen touches one finger to her lips.

Thirteen smiles.

Pedestal - A metal offering bowl sits atop the pedestal and is filled with scraps of paper. Every few minutes, one of the scraps bursts into flames and disappears.

Altar - A long, sharp-edged slab of obsidian rests upon a basalt base embedded with obsidian shards. Wisps of smoke drift lazily up from dark glaes bowls that are filled with incense. A thin mottled black tablet lies atop the altar.

Tapestry - The purpose of this tone-on-tone black tapestry appears to be for use as lining for the chamber walls. The tapestry's design reveals detailed scenes, some involving gruesome violence, deliberately woven into a subtle sheen of the embroidery. Illustrations of cloaked figures and blood-covered nobility decorate the entire surface.

Yardie (tapping the altar): Wha...what does that say?

Watcher raises an eyebrow.

Yardie: I am...still learning how to read.

Watcher nods slowly.

Wolfloner: You need me to decipher it?"

Yardie: Please.

Thirteen reaches over and gently rests her hand on your shoulder.

Thirteen: Don't feel bad.

You blink at Thirteen.

Thirteen: I only know elven.

You nod understandingly at Thirteen.

In this line of work, not everyone bothers with reading and writing. For me, well, my learning is complicated. I appreciated Thirteen's empathy.

Thirteen: Common still looks strange to me.

Wolfloner: Ondreian gave me some of the history to answer some of the questions. The Dae'randir was originally founded 21 years ago during the Griffin Sword War.

Thirteen: Coyote read it to me though.

Wolfloner recites:

I honor you, Lord of Assassins!

Lend silence to my steps and swiftness to my blade.

Grant me the boon of cold efficiency, for you are its purest embodiment!

Wolfloner: Mamu donated the tablet.

A Deadly Shadow bows to an altar.

You shiver.

Wolfloner: Look at the pedestal Yardie.

A metal offering bowl sits atop the pedestal and is filled with scraps of paper. Every few minutes, one of the scraps bursts into flames and disappears.

Wolfloner: Notice the paper bursting into flame. Sanctions. Exactly that.

Wolfloner nods at Watcher.

Yardie: I've never heard them referred to as sanctions, but....I...obviously know what you speak of."

To translate loosely, sanctions go by many names. Contracts. Jobs. Missions. Once obligations are fulfilled, many discard any proof of work. It is quite clear that the Dae’Randir take in many “clients” for the work, operating on their own accord. For this reason, while the organization is known, some members choose other aliases.

Wolfloner darkly asks, "Watcher, want to describe this area?"

Wolfloner bows to a plainly dressed monk.

Watcher: Good evening, Gilmirie."

The tall sylvan female wears robes that are of thin black linen cinched at the waist by a quintuple white ora belt, the hood covering honey-hued hair and allowing for rare glimpses of foxfire green eyes. Her fingers are bare of rings, while a simple cracked white skull emblem hangs around her neck.

Yardie: Gilmirie?"

Watcher: This is our distillery, where we brew the finest absinthe. She is quite adept at balancing the flavors, as you might experience later.

Watcher: She came to us fairly recently, did she not?

Watcher glances at Wolfloner.

Wolfloner nods at Watcher.

Yardie: Do you sell them? The absinthe? A lovely distillery.

Watcher quietly says, "No, it is for our members to enjoy.

This statement caught me by surprise. Trading and transferring of all sorts of goods is quite common in the underworld, but an organization rarely has direct access to a distillery. It could make for a decent front as they do other…tasks.

Bathed in an intense crimson glow from the burning brazier, the smooth stone walls appear like blocks of fiery coals. Orderly rows of stacked wood have been placed next to the brazier, and an assortment of exotic bottles and multi-colored vials fill two long shelves. Tied bundles of herbs and grasses, hung upside down for drying, dangle from the low ceiling. An old alembic still has been built into an arched recess, and a solitary wooden table sits beneath a shuttered storm lantern.

You nod at Watcher.

Watcher: She can answer some questions.

Yardie (asking Gilmirie): You...can answer questions? What can you tell me about the batch?"

Gilmirie: This batch is not ready yet. If you look on the table, the previously finished batch is there for our members and visitors.

Inching closer, I moved to touch the still. Gilmirie disapproved.

Gilmirie: "Do not touch the still. It is complicated, and I just finished repairing it."

Apparently, The Dae'randir took their matters of cuisine rather seriously. An enviable discipline, if I must admit.

Sitting on a masonry brazier, a round-bottomed glass retort is positioned so that its slender descending tube distills liquid into a large flask. The green elixir within the retort boils as its vapor rises and flows into the descending tube, where it then cools and condenses into an emerald green liquid. Inside the flask, the liquid swirls, its green color changing from dark to light hues.

This spacious kitchen is centrally divided by a corbelled arch that extends across the pale-colored flagstone floor. On one side is a massive fieldstone cooking slab, and the opposite side is filled with sinks, cupboards, and a long wooden counter that extends the length of the wall just beneath a stained-glass window. Moonlight pours through the arch from a connected glass-framed greenhouse, several rows of raised planter boxes decorating its interior.

Absinthe-Minded Botany

With all the talk of absinthe and work on such libations, I needed to taste it for myself.

You pour yourself a flute of emerald green absinthe.

You take a drink from your emerald green absinthe. If it were possible to get past the shockingly bitter taste, there might be something to appreciate in the complex blend of flavors.

Thirteen shuts her eyes for a brief moment.

Xanlin pours himself a flute of emerald green absinthe.

Xanlin takes a drink from his emerald green absinthe.

Xanlin looks rather relaxed.

Yardie: This isn't poisoned, is it?

Because of past occurrences of being poisoned and humiliated in Town Square, I rarely take food or drink from anyone. Nerves seized at me once I realized what I had done. The irony was not lost on me, as Faendryl absinthe was my culprit long ago. As for the absinthe, there was potential, starting with killing that bitter taste.

Xanlin holds up two fingers and slowly pinches them together until they are almost touching.

Wolfloner: I am impressed. You are the first guest to drink the absinthe here. Everyone else assumed it was poisoned.

I panicked for a moment. Not the comment I wished to hear.

Watcher plucks an ivory skull-faced orchid, and holding it to her nose, she inhales deeply.

Yardie: Well, I don't often drink from strangers, but I hoped that my mentor would poison me....or that you would poison your own.

You accept Watcher's offer and are now holding an ivory skull-faced orchid.

Yardie: Thank you kindly.

Orchids are rather amazing and lovely to give to a loved one. They represent charm, love, and sensuality, though I do not think the Watcher was trying to entice me into a relationship. Still, for such viciousness coiled and ready, the serenity of plants, absinthe, and normal life in the halls made for the most tranquil sanctuaries. One could reflect on anything but the job, providing focus when work calls.

Watcher: You are now the only outsider with one.

You bow to Watcher.

What is The Dae'randir

Wolfloner: Shall we take a seat in the Great Hall?

Yardie: Certainly.

Arcading arches open up into a large octagonal hall with ashen stone walls stretching up to an elaborately painted ceiling. Long rectangular flags of silver-trimmed black silk hang from thin steel rods that jut out from each side. A polished ash table is perched on a raised platform with two granite tables coupled with chairs flanking each end. An obsidian slab hearth fills the open side of the arrangement. You also see an oak door.

Wolfloner: Have a seat.

Wolfloner takes a wooden stick and tosses it into the fire and watches as the flames leap higher.

Wolfloner: Take a look at the ceiling. It is a tale of consequences. And of interest to you.

An enormous mural has been painted onto the ceiling, four segments detailing a different scene. The first scene portrays a lifeless Faendryl woman laying on the deck of a ship, a Nalfein hidden in the mast's shadow. The second scene depicts a seated monarch and three kneeling Faendryl noblewomen, tears on their cheeks. The third illustrates two flotillas, one of House Ashrim and the other of House Faendryl, and the fourth mural shows four islands beneath an ominous smoke-filled sky.

I recalled the mural. Wolfloner showed me this educational artwork a few months after my rebirth. This mural made me pause to consider that life is not always what it seems.

Yardie: You showed me this when I first started. I did not realize I was here.

Wolfloner nods to you.

Yardie: This is...a month or two after I was...er...reborn in Icemule.

Wolfloner: Because you are Faendryl.

Yardie: I am.

Wolfloner glances at some silk flags.

Wolfloner: You have questions?

Yardie: Many. So, I wanted to know, if you could explain to people what the Dae'randir is all about.

Wolfloner: Per Ondreian - We provide balance between the two pantheons that seek to impose their will on the mortals of this world.

Yardie: That's an interesting concept. Tricky too. Many would consider Onar to be on the darker end of that spectrum.

Wolfloner: It is a matter of perspective, is it not?

Yardie: Many religious followers have said the same. Does the name Dae'randir have meaning? What does the name originate from?

Wolfloner: It is very old elven... Dae translates in Shadow.

Yardie: And randir?

Wolfloner: Randir translate into wanderer or walker. Some say it has Drow origins.

You raise an eyebrow in Wolfloner's direction.

Wolfloner: Very old elven. Something Turinrond left behind.

The Underground Network

Yardie: I don't think I've heard that before. But probably before my time. So, I ask this out of my realm of questioning, but I ask it carefully. Most do not know of the underworld, the network that deals with assassins, interrogations, infiltrations, and matters of subterfuge and skullduggery. I assume you all operate as your network?

Wolfloner: The Dae'randir was formed during the First Griffon Sword War by Turinrond.

Watcher: We are networked, but each our own.

Yardie: And do you work with other networks?

Watcher ponders.

Watcher: We have in the past, yes.

Wolfloner: We are not arrows in anyone's quiver. We are not whores to the highest bidder. Nor do we have souls so dark that no amount of killing could fill it. Nor do we act without reason or just cause."

Yardie: So...freedom fighters, if you will.

Wolfloner: We act in our own interests.

Yardie (carefully): And what are those interests?

Watcher raises an eyebrow.

Watcher: Balance, of course.

Wolfloner (to Watcher): The wormwood in the absinthe seems excellent. Perhaps it is the company.

Yardie: I had to ask.

Watcher nods once to you.

Wolfloner: I may have missed your question. Ah. An example, perhaps?

Yardie: F--er....Vague...answered it.

I nearly slipped here and outed the Watcher. Perhaps the absinthe and the company made me a bit lax.

Watcher chuckles.

Yardie: If you have one, certainly. Forgive me, Watcher, I had to get my information right.

Watcher noncommittally says, Mm.

Wolfloner: I asked Lyllenyn to accompany Zyndur and his Shades of the Rose and the Landing heroes in their attempt to capture Dragnell. I asked him to contact Zyndur and see if there were some areas of interest between the Shades of the Rose and the Dae'randir. Failing that I asked him to take advantage of any opportunity that was in the interests of the Dae'randir.

Yardie: And was he successful?

Wolfloner: The mission became a complete bloodbath, the heroes and Zyndur fell quickly....and yet Lyllenyn used stealth, searched the lair of Dragnell. Found the secret entrance to the hideout. And made him surrender. Then Lyllenyn messaged the heroes where Dragnell was and he was taken into custody."

Watcher nods approvingly.

Yardie: As a professional would and should do. Well done.

Wolfloner: We assumed he would be executed. But the Landing chose another path.

Yardie: And what path was that?

Wolfloner: The Landing made an accord with Dragnell against the lich king Barnom Slim. And when fate turned and Talador invaded the Landing Dragnell turned out to be a very good ally against the imperial horde. We were content the outcome of the war. Estoria's fleet lies at the bottom the ocean. And Talador untimately was defeated and eventually became a wasteland.

Deadly Shadow: Not that I see.

Wolfloner: Before the war...Talador's condition for a peaceful resolution to the War was that all of Lornon and those that aided them were to be put to the sword.

Watcher: Imbalanced.

Yardie (jokingly): Which would have resulted in almost all of the Landing.

Wolfloner: Would seem that fate decided differently.

Xanlin laughs softly, trying to hide his amusement.

Watcher nods in agreement to you.

Onar and Balance

Yardie: I wanted to discuss Onar briefly, but I think we covered that. The assassin who works as a weapon does the job without emotion or...well...you get the idea. Are you all followers of Onar, and do you demand the same for its members?

Wolfloner says, "Commitment to balance, without darkness there is no light.

Watcher: "Without light there is no darkness, either.

Yardie: So when do you think balance will be achieved?

Watcher: Never, so long as there are intelligent beings.

You snicker at Watcher.

Watcher: Nature is the only balance, and even that is constantly in peril.

Yardie: Sounds like something Imaera would say.

Xanlin: I don't follow Onar, but the creed of balance is what brought me to the Dae'randir.

Watcher: To answer your question earlier, we do not all follow Onar, though it is the majority.

Watcher smiles at Xanlin.

Wolfloner nods at Xanlin.

Yardie: So you all feel that the world is....constantly shifting and that to right matters, balance must be achieved, but not favoring one or the other.

Watcher: We do not all agree on some topics, what you get from Xanlin might not be the same as what you get from A Deadly Shadow or myself. Not that we do not agree on this particular topic, but it bears saying.

Wolfloner: Each member has autonomy.

Yardie (musingly): It makes taking individual jobs easier if needed.

Wolfloner: For example. Some members of the Dae'randir chose to aid Nysina and Elithian Cross in their raids into the Empire. Others did not.

Recruitment & Requirements

Yardie: Are the Dae'randir seeking new recruits? And if so, what are the requirements to join?

Wolfloner: We are open to the possibility.

Yardie: There are many always looking for steady work. What do they need to do to join or to show interest? Or do you seek them out?

Wolfloner says, We have done both.

Watcher: Dedications are needed. Knowledge attained. Trials undergone.

Yardie: Can you speak more on the trials?

Watcher: I cannot. Each person experiences them differently.

Yardie: So....no examples?

Watcher: No examples.

Wolfloner: Each member has autonomy. We never undertake anything in anger of without just cause. Each member has to decide that.

Watcher: The others are free to share their examples should they wish.

Deadly Shadow: Well...I can only give my experiences.

Deadly Shadow: Most of what goes on is compartmentalized so everyone doesn't always know what is happening. We were working on an operation once, and someone intruded or invaded the operation, causing some issues. It was determined that an example should be made, and that task was given to me in secret. I tracked my project to a location near town and I considered it to be my best opportunity, although others were present. Not ideal, of course, but I was younger then, and a new member so I knew I had to do something. Ultimately, the lesson was conveyed.

Wolfloner: Indeed it was.

Deadly Shadow says: Many don't know this, but I was spotted. Nobody knows what happened but a few of us, via word of mouth. But another member witnessed it at the time. A highly skilled rogue with great eyes... but he was one of us. That was early on, but I've been resting on my laurels ever since.. We have had quite a few "projects", but that one stands out.

Thirteen: There was the field trip to Chastonia.

Deadly Shadow: Ahh.. the earl. I still have the blade. I don't remember why that happened. Just that it happened.

A viable alibi.

Watcher: Too much absinthe?

Yardie: I see.

Wolfloner: We do not prey on the weak. But we do prey on predators.

Yardie: For anyone who might be interested in joining, who should they speak to?

Watcher: Many of us are happy to speak with people. Joining, for now, we pass to Wolfloner.

Thirteen: Hmm rather, unopposed to speak with people.

Watcher (correcting themselves): Unopposed, yes. A much better phrasing.

Thirteen: Common is fun.

Wolfloner: There are many kinds of assassins. As mentioned before....

Yardie (knowingly): "I'm...quite familiar.

Deadly Shadow: They need to be self-sufficient and able to think on their feet. Opportunities may only be available for a very short window.

Watcher: Knowledgeable about the shadows. Or misdirection.

Deadly Shadow: Preferably... experienced.

Watcher chuckles.

Deadly Shadow: There was the girl...

A Deadly Shadow shakes his head.

Wolfloner glances at A Deadly Shadow.

Deadly Shadow: I don't really want to get into that one.

Wolfloner: The one that Dragnell slaughtered?

Watcher: That turned my stomach.

Deadly Shadow: Bad memories from that time.. I consider it unfinished business. A lot of "moving parts" in that one, and we had a short window to act. We learned that day, we can't always win.

Wolfloner: Dragnell was a force of nature. He could be unleashed but could not be controlled. The plan went sidewise once the Landing tried to rescue her.

Deadly Shadow: They should have only sent us.

Wolfloner: Perhaps.

Watcher: Mm.

The extent of their memory concerning tasks astonished me. Often, the idea is to forget and move on to the next. The extent to which they discussed details meant that these assassins were very thorough and dangerous.

Events

Yardie: Events. Are there any future events that you all will be running?

Watcher: We do, in fact. The 12th and 13th of Lumnea, pending finalization of plans.

Yardie: What event will that be?

Wolfloner: May changed the latter to the 14th. But during that week. A guild night, then perhaps a discussion on balance. Since the Landing seems so unbalanced now.

Deadly Shadow: Sooner or later we will need the landing to come together. Enemies grow stronger. They always show up looking for something.

Yardie: Between the Landing, the Thorns, the Reivers, and all else, it is all out of sort.

Deadly Shadow: Maybe we should stir them up and see what they do.

Watcher chuckles.

Thirteen grins at A Deadly Shadow.

Wolfloner: When perusing the old archives, I found an interesting tome about the Reivers.

Watcher: A threat closer to home.

Deadly Shadow: I haven't seen a reiver in decades.

Yardie: Something of concern?

Watcher: They haven't changed much.

Deadly Shadow: I do remember when their land was first discovered. They don't seem like they could be much of an issue.

Wolfloner: More irony than anything else.

Watcher: They have made some new friends.

You nod at Wolfloner.

Wolfloner: The Reivers of the Vale are cut from a different cloth.

Deadly Shadow: I haven't met their friends. I have been away, training. I don't know all the details about what is happening lately.

Wolfloner (to Deadly Shadow): I take comfort in your return.

Deadly Shadow: I sense that we will be dragged into whatever happens."

Watcher: When have we not.

Deadly Shadow: I intend to make sure they know not to come back. Or make sure they stay here forever."

Watcher: The flowers could use some nourishment.

Wolfloner: For some, it is a matter of coin and the highest bidder. Then there are those with hearts so back that no amount of murder could fill the depth of emptiness they feel. Though they try....And for others, it is a higher calling.

Watcher shakes her head, totally at a loss.

Yardie: And the Dae'randir is open to any of those, yes?

Wolfloner: No. For us it is a higher calling.

Deadly Shadow: In some cases, it needs to happen, and is well deserved.

Wolfloner says, We do not prey on the weak.

Watcher: I personally do not accept payment.

Thirteen: If one must kill, it costs us nothing to be polite about it.

Yardie: One can kill someone that they respect.

Deadly Shadow: Generally, I work with internal security matters. Defense of members.

Thirteen: That sounds better in Elven.

You grin at Thirteen.

Wolfloner: One can judge the merits and decide if the target is deserving or, just as importantly not deserving. We certainly have turned down request on the merits.

Prominent Members

Yardie: My last question is, are there prominent members of the Dae'randir that you would WANT to mention by name for familiarity to the masses?

Wolfloner: Some are known and are recorded in the lore. Turinrond & Ondreian certainly are known. Others, we prefer to remain shrouded. I am known to be a member as well.

Thirteen: Anonymity has its benefits.

Yardie: I'll be certain to keep that anonymity for those who wish to have it.

Wolfloner: The abduction mentioned earlier....was hard for the Dae'randir membership to accept....

A Deadly Shadow says, Some of us still haven't accepted it. And we are still seeking redemption..

Watcher: Minor setbacks. As the plan discussed did not turn out as planned. It was a desperate gamble to turn the tide of the war. And while it succeeded in doing that the cost was very high.

Wolfloner: But I also regret all the innocents of the Landing that fell to the siege weaponry of the Talador invading army. And seem no one wants to weep for them.

Deadly Shadow: That was a bloody timeframe. Lot of deaths when Talador showed up.

Wolfloner: Ultimately the Landing survived. The cost to do so was extreme.

Yardie: And should peril arise once again, I presume the Dae'randir will be there to restore that balance, yes?

Thirteen flutters her wings at you.

Watcher: The Landing does swing like a pendulum, I have noticed. With the balanced forces of all behind it, I have no doubt that we will survive what comes.

Closing and Final Thoughts

Watcher: Thank you for spending so much time with us.

Watcher stands up.

Wolfloner glances at you.

Yardie: Thank you for having me. Always a pleasure.

Watcher: Shall we find you a belladonna to complete your visit?

Wolfloner: We will act in our best interests. In the way I already detailed.

Yardie: I will be eager to see what becomes of it.

Wolfloner: Even if it is a hard decision.

Yardie: Understood. (To the Watcher) Oh, you said a flower?

Watcher plucks a virescent ebon-spotted belladonna, and holding it to her nose, she inhales deeply.

Watcher: Be careful with that.

Yardie (knowingly): It's a toxin...slows muscle movements. Can be fatal.

Old habits and tricks. They never go away, like learning to walk or picking up your first dagger. Though I must confess, I also know someone whose knowledge of plants and toxins had been the most educational in my life. I surmised that the Watcher here, covered in thorns and the like, is the expert in flora and fauna among the Dae'randir.

You nod at Watcher.

Watcher nods in agreement to you.

Watcher: You know your plants well.

Yardie: Professional ties.

Deadly Shadow: It works well in drinks.

Wolfloner nods at Watcher.

Watcher begins chuckling at A Deadly Shadow!

Deadly Shadow: From what ive... been told.

Watcher: Mm.

Yardie: Thank you again. I'll....need to figure out the exit here, but this place was great.

Xanlin tosses a knowing glance toward you, taps his nose, and then points at you.

Wolfloner: You cannot leave. Thought I made that clear.

Wolfloner smiles at you.

You raise an eyebrow in Wolfloner's direction, then snicker at Wolfloner.

He had me fooled...again for just a moment.

Wolfloner glances at a stone bridge.

Deadly Shadow: We've told you too much.

Watcher: Oh, the new compost, this is it?

Yardie: I'd...make a terrible compost.

Watcher: That is for the plants to tell me.

Yardie (nervously): Someday....hopefully, not anytime soon.

Tufts of dead grass poke up through the deep mud and provide you with a convenient, though slow, means of crossing the black waters of the swamp. Unseen bubbling and splashing can be heard off in the mist, but who or what is causing it is veiled in the oppressive grey of the thick air. You also see a stone bridge.

Yardie: Be safe, all.

Watcher: Do you need an escort back to town?

Yardie: No, I know my way around. I should be fine.

Xanlin: Good evening all.

Watcher: A pleasure to see you all.

Yardie: Evening to you all, and thank you. Thank you so much.

Watcher: Ah, thank you.

Yardie: You're quite welcome.

As I crossed the stone bridge and returned to the Landing while keeping an eye on any nocked bows from those that might take issue with my inquiry, my time with the Dae’randir ended. I had always been impressed by Wolfloner’s knowledge and savvy, but never in a million years did I think there was such a low-key detail group of Onar following killers in such proximity to the Frontier. I would not recommend the Dae’randir for those looking for a way out of the life, trying to get clean and stay away from the dark world that lurks while others sleep comfortably in their beds. However, for those who wish to steer clear from emulating brigands mugging for coin, those who wish to put their talents to use without allegiance, or those who wish to achieve Balance in the name of Onar, The Dae’randir might be the perfect organization to call home.