View source for Shadowy Business - Part I

'''Shadowy Business - Part I'''

The mystery of Pashtal's descent into madness passed over most people without batting an eye. To them, the Nalfein was another notch in a list of killers, megalomaniacs, and power-hungry narcissists that craved magic and prowess beyond his understanding, destined to crash on the jagged rocks of hubris. For Yardie, however, Pashtal had been an ordinary man who sought greatness but lacked the physical prowess, genius intellect, or magical talent to reach for the stars. All he had was drive, pure, relentless drive.

And with recent revelations of Pashtal's state of mind, Yardie returned to his roots: investigation. With Pashtal having professional ties, a history of the Nalfien elf could determine what went wrong.  

But the underground network of thieves, assassins, and other skullduggery affairs relied on connections he did not have in Ta'Nalfein. In that regard, he needed the help of a Nalfein he admired, one that spurred him to take action. A Nalfein that exuded grace, beauty, and sophistication while, through her connections and raw talent, far deadlier than the Faendryl.

Yardie found the beautiful elven lady in the Legendary Rest of Ta'Vaalor; the sapphire blue eyes and the tint of rose on her fair skin gave it away. "Hello, Lynaera."

The pair found a finely buffed table overlooking the vast fountain looming north.   Shifting in his seat, Yardie took in Lynaera Ariamiel's knotted, wavy raven black hair, held up by obsidian hair sticks, and secretly admired her. Then, with the umbrella at the table closed, he shifted his attention to the constellation-filled night sky, basking in the lovely moonlight.  

"What interest have you in the domains of Ta'Nalfein?" Lynaera asked, interrupting his dreamy state. "You could not be asking of anything else."

"Pashtal," Yardie answered. "I believe the fallen elf deserves careful study."

The elven lady leaned forward. "And you think I can assist you in learning more? You come to me because he is Nalfein?"

"I come to you to get his connections, background, origins." The Faendryl confessed as he nibbled on his full lower lip with a pensive frown. "I can't go to Ta'Nalfein."

"What do you wish of me, and what do you offer in return?" Lynaera asked.

Yardie took a deep breath, his left thumb twirling his eahnor band as he spoke. "I want to know about his origins, his history there. You may find ties with more nefarious individuals, but I want to know where he went astray." Once he finished his request, he placed both hands on the table, palms downward, a custom in parlays between assassins. Violet eyes looked into hers. "Name your price."

"I wish two things of you," Lynaera began. "The first I shall extract now may dictate the second." She regarded him amusingly. "What do you think I will ask of you?" 

With a blank gaze, Yardie answered truthfully. "I have no clue. Not a one."

"You disappointed me," she said, stonefaced, then gave the softest of laughs that barely stretched over the sound of the fountain's running water. "That leads to the second, then."

Yardie scratched his head underneath his asymmetrical black hat. "Wait, what was the first?"

"My asking you to guess, of course." The Nalfein was clever, sharp in her blades, as well as her wit. She placed the humor aside at the drop of a hat, returning to his request. "Now, for what I need. I would ask a favor of you in the future. Given that I am doing a favor for you, it seems reasonable that you would return a favor for me."

Despite the compromised situation, Yardie stood his ground. "Nothing extravagant…and definitely not the book." He traced a line on the table with his right pointer finger, pondering the mystery of Lynaera's future request, fully aware of underground business practices. "Long as it's not hurting my family, then you have me."

Lynaera grinned slowly, her cheeks highlighting the heart-shaped birthmark upon her face. "Good, very good. Are we to 'shake on it,' or is my word worthy enough of you?"

Yardie nodded. "Certainly. Dead drop where you once showed me is sufficient, yes? I'll have my contact acquire the information. They'll know where to go."

"Very good," Lynaera seemed satisfied with the venture but was far from finished. "Now that you have 'contracted' me, as you say, do you have any information that will assist me in my investigations?"

"I'd checked for any brigands, thieves, and scoundrels he may have worked with. His name may have some reputation. Not sure if it would be good." Yardie sifted through his memories of the infamous Pashtal. "Look for stories of a masked performer."

Lynaera laughed. "Ahh, a Masked Performer.  In Ta’Nalfein, no less.”

"You think they're that common?"

Lynaera gave him a blank gaze. "I had believed you understood more of Nalfein Culture and Society than that."

"Sure," Yardie conceded to the point. "But an eccentric performer like him?"

"There are countless masked performers and quite few eccentric ones." But Lynaera had already determined her path. "I've a plan already. It should be simple enough. I'll circulate his description amongst the Family, and from there, the Question will flow into Ta'Nalfein like springwater to river."

"Good. Thank you. I'm grateful." Yardie finally exhaled, the hard part over, but the worry now welling in his gut. His face was a deer staring down a hungry wolf. "I haven't signed my soul away, yes?"

"Oh, of course not," Lynaera Ariamiel said nonchalantly. "I am no sorceress." Yardie shivered at that response. Lynaera's voice lilted with contained excitement. "Although I do look forward to the time I can extract this favor." She rose to her feet. "I believe this concludes the terms."

Yardie stood up and shook her hand. The Nalfein palms were soft, and her fingernails unpolished yet immaculate. One would never know how dangerous she could be at first glance. "It does."

"Very well. I shall now depart. There is much to be done."

Yardie nodded slowly. "Always."

And then she vanished as her skill in magic eluded his keen, violet eyes. "She's good," he said to himself as he made his exit.