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A few days after your return to Threnody Manor. You’ve been briefed about the the estates happenings while you were gone, and you’ve already begun drafting plans for the remodel,which will be made infinity easier and less expensive by the harp. You have been summoned to meet with somone very important, a meeting you have put plans on hold to attend…
You stand along a dark dirt road, one of many that meander through the open, wilderness that lay between Fanlu’s busier parts, and the old norther wall. Except for the soft glow of watchskulls and lanterns in the distance, you might as well be somewhere out in the country. To your right, a crumbling wall marks the edge of a plum tree orchard along the edge of some old estate. A thing mist clings to the the low areas, and above it, in the pale light of a sliver moon, you can see the hunched shadow of the sleeping mountain rising over the south side of town. Several members of your cohort hang back, crouched on either side of the road. You did not need them to come, but lately, you’ve seen how every small event is an opportunity to train your men. They will learn much from this walk in the dark, even if nothing foul happens along the way. You don’t suspect it will, but few travel through the night, and those that do have purpose.
Out of the mists the Night Watchman walks with purpose. His footfalls are dead silence, and you can swear his feet never quite touch the ground. His voice is like deep and gravely, like it comes from the earth beneath his feet.
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Fanlu’s mysterious Night Watchman steps out of the mists.[/caption]“Master Threnody, I’m glad you have come to meet me. I have called you here to discuss the dangers that have passed within Fanlu’s walls. Since that night on the docks when the sigil was stolen, I have done much investigating, and much has occurred since you left for Shen Ling. The four you met that night at the Misty Haven Tavern, are the notorious leaders of a gang of sorts. This gang refers to themselves as the Black Vines, and their leaders have sometimes been called the 4 stranglers, in whispered and dramatic fashion of course…”
He smiles and takes a long drag from his pipe before continuing
“These four stranglers are apparently brothers of sorts, the sons of an old, fat warlord who once tried to forge the clans of the vine tower hills into a kingdom. Those clans are a wild lot…spirit blooded and shape changers almost to the last one…beyond redemption, and beyond any semblance to mankind, though they walk in the skin of men…long ago they sold their souls and very bloodlines to the dark spirits that dwell among those shadowy hills to the east…Through the years they’ve made many attempts to infiltrate town, and many a night I’ve had to sniff them out and drive them away…they have been like rats that nest at the corners of our fields…pests really, but these “Four Stranglers” and their Black Vines, are different, a larger group, more organized. They claim to serve their old father, a Ching Rogoo, who in his overweight and tired old age has apparently found some source of vigor, and has once again renewed his efforts to bring the clans of the vine towers under his banner. Apparently he views Fanlu as a danger he must keep tabs on and even meddle with.
While you were gone the Black Vines made a large play on the north side of town. They stole near a dozen sigils, they took over several taverns and inns to serve as their bases and barracks. They seemed to be daring the Brotherhood or the House of Pacified Shadows to go to that part of town and face them. I drove them off, but not without great help from the Fishermen. Their leader himself came to our town when he caught wind of what the Black Vines were up to. The Fishermen are human through and through, they have a strong dislike for the clans of the Vine Towers, for any whose blood is mingled with spirits…even for me, yet they seemed genuine in their wish to keep these Black Vines from gaining any true power in town.
End result, the Black Vines gave up their ambitions without much fight. It only took a few skirmishes with the Fishermen and myself to send them on their way. They still have a few operatives who have dared to stay behind in Marshtown. Both the Fishermen and I believe that leaving these operatives in place, pretending not to know of them, is valuable for the time being…a away to keep our enemies close so to speak. The threat of the Black Vines, and of spirit bloods and shapeshifters in general will be vastly reduced with the presence of the Fishermen in Laketown, but now they feel quite entitled to stay. I see no reason to move against them, unless they give me one. I also see your men about town. I advise you come to terms with the Fishermen, and even to the Brotherhood, to see there are not breaches in protocol. My experience is, peace is best maintained with boundaries are respected…and I am nothing if not a keeper of Fanlu’s peace.”
As you approach, the figure at the door hurriedly straightens up and heads inside ahead of you.
You brush open the doors and see a cavernous and shadowy common room crowded with people and supplies…it is part saki house, part tavern, part warehouse, and part market place all in one. No sign of the guy who went in before you, but it would be easy to vanish in a place like this. The smoky tang of lamp oil mixes with that of steamed rice and fried fish. This is about what you see inside, except lit my lamps and candles instead of natural light:
The room seems to take a breath as those who notice you enter grow silent, but there are enough people who didn’t notice you enter, who continue about there business, that it is a subtle drop in volume. When you lean against the wall, for a few moments you get the sense that all eyes are upon you, but then, after a few moments, it is the opposite. It is as if everyone in the place is avoiding looking at you. You wonder if this is a sign of respect of disrespect. Whatever it is, it is some kind of decorum. It is too consistent to not be purposeful. No one is looking at you, not a single soul..and then you see her.
A young woman in a simple, but elegant gown is walking directly at you, directly in the line of your vision. Even as the rest of the room continues to ignore your presence, she alone seems to acknowledge you in fullness. At two arms length she pauses and performs a practiced curtsy.
“Humbly I ask, that I might provide… does the handsome master come to parlay, drink, or do both this evening?”
He nods in acknowledgement and leads you to a corner of the common room that is sectioned off from the rest by a curtain of beads for privacy, and sits you at a very fine table of dark wood.
“Thank you for what you did In Littlemountain” She coyly adds, as she backs out of the beads without giving you much chance to respond.
There is a little side hallway that leads out of this curtained area and deeper into the building. It is from this hall a man emerges after a few moments, carrying a clay pitcher of saki on a tray with two cups.
“Grey Threnody I presume? Our humble house does not often have the honor to serve landed gentry… I hear you are a man who often walks among the people? I hope our humble establishment does not fail your expectations” His tone is sincere but there is a casual hint to it, of, mocking? Is he mocking you, or himself, or merely trying to be personable, you’re not sure?
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