RP:Debts and Disguises

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: Emrith meets Lanara in Kelay Tavern. With the pending rescue attempt of Skylei and Maegus weighing heavily on his mind, Emrith enlists Lanara's help. After first discussing a potion which might completely mask heat signature, the two begin to discuss disguises instead. They part ways having settled on terms, and Emrith has but to call on Lanara in order to receive her aid. Lanara now knows the general location of Emrith's trap, set some weeks before, and is at liberty to put its components to her own use.

Kelay Tavern

[Early posts missing]

Emrith is slightly surprised to hear Lanara batten on his idea about being disguised as a drow. He had spoken it and shaken it off almost in the same instant, thinking it either folly or impossibility. But here, she is telling him it can be done. The logistics may need ironing out, but suddenly there is even greater hope in Emrith's heart. "I will have to dye this cloak and perhaps adopt different dress," he mutters to himself in common. Then, switching back to elven, he continues, "I have tasked your sister with befriending a traitor to the elves. She agreed to do it, and I am wary of the risk to her. There is no ill will meant to Talyara or her abilities by my doing. The man's name is Zendor, and I seek to pry information out of him. Talyara has told me that a truth serum might be possible to brew, and if so, she may be able to gain the man's trust far enough that she can dose him with it. I have also asked her to prepare for the more complex scenario, where I myself purport to do away with all grievances and make up with the human myself. In such an instance, if Zendor and I were to, say, each have a drink or a meal, it might be prudent to have both loaded with serum; the difference would be that I have imbibed an antidote previously, or some sort of substance which allowed me to develop a tolerance for it, while Zendor would be open to its effects." Emrith shakes his head, as if realizing for the first time that he has gotten off track; blond tresses cascade around his well-sculpted skull and pointed ears. "To our business though...would this spell of yours be illusion only? Would it change my speech, my scent, and my appearance? An illusion would be no good to me if a simple misstep disproved it, after all."

Lanara widens her eyes as she hears of her sisters, quite dangerous, task. Though she remains silent, knowing that Talyara was capable of such a mission, but knowing her sister to be naive and not quite as trained in magical works, she worries her lower lip for a second. "If my sister needs my assistance, she's free to come to me, as are you. Tally has been through a lot, and is know to flee, when a situation turns awry or too dangerous. She suffers from flashbacks of things she's previously lived through, and I worry about her sanity, sometimes. I'm probably just being an overprotective sister, but she is still learning a lot, so please be careful with what missions you give to her. Though, she's able to produce a truth serum, for certain." Running her fingers through her long, dark brown locks, she eyes the elf's blonde tresses for a moment, and dips her head, to peer into his eyes. "You will be an actual drow. You will talk, appear, and smell, like what you wish to mask yourself as. You will only maintain your mind and abilities, of course. You will need new clothing, and to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, though. I also advise you to study the race, from afar, and master the way they walk, converse, and what sort of motions they use, with each other. That part is up to you. I can only turn you into one, but you must fool the others, that you aren't an imposter." She speaks the entire dialog in elven, and in a hurried whisper, so that other patrons remain unsuspecting.

Emrith nods his head again, and in deference to Lanara's haste the gesture is both quick and furtive. "That may be well then. We just so happen to have a half-drow who is an ex-slave, and who may be able to help a great deal with this. But now, the more dangerous question comes. People do not work for free. If you are willing to do this, what is your price?" Suddenly struck with inspiration, he asks yet more. "Also, I must ask. Must this spell be cast, or can it be set to an item of some kind which can be triggered? For that matter, is the casting or implementation, whether it is triggered or not, very taxing? How possible would it be to disguise multiple people, if it came to that? These are important logistics and must not be ignored; I shall not be alone, you see."

Lanara quirks a brow as the ex slave, half drow is mentioned, the young elf sighing heavily. "You speak of Nymh, correct? He was the one that asked for my aid, in creating antidote's, from the drow poison tipped weapons. It seems we all are working for the same cause. I'm not certain I trust him, fully. He is half drow, after all. But he's also half elf. It's just disconcerting, that's all." With a shrug of her slender shoulders, she toys with her necklace, and ignores the mention of salary. "I do not advise using an object. Say you want me to cast a spell on a necklace or piece of clothing? Too much can go wrong. The clothing can come off, the object could be broken, and so forth. Also, you would have to know how to use it. This isn't basic magic, this is witchcraft, and shouldn't be trifled with, unless you are trained." Lowering her hand, she releases her runed necklace, and takes a sip of ale. "As for changing the identity of others? Well... If I know they were well versed in drow behavior, knew the risks fully, and had good intentions, like yourself, I wouldn't have any qualms in helping out, but I wouldn't advise you to do more than three or four people. The spell will be at it's most power, when cast on a single person. However, if I guide my sister, since we share knowledge and half blood, she can also help with three to four other people."

Emrith contemplates the witch's words for a few silent moments. "It is just that a single drow being accompanied into the Underdark in the company of other non-drow might be particularly strange, is all," he muses, then lapses into quiet again. A moment later, he finishes, "Very well. Triggering to an item is more dangerous; I was only asking in case I would wish to become a drow at a time and place of my choosing. If this is not possible, or not feasible at any rate, we will work with that limitation." At mention of Nymh's name, Emrith's lips curve into something caught between a smile and a sneer. "He is clever, crafty, and alive only because I did not kill him when I found him. I let him go free, after obtaining a little information from him. He has betrayed his former house in Trist'Oth and is now a renegade. I do not trust him wholly either, but nor do I envy his position. He is taken in fully by neither side, and wanted dead by more than a few." Now Emrith lowers his voice even further. "If you will not speak of salary, then I will perhaps give you a gift in another way. If you go into Sage, just east of the large Drow camp and to the old archery range, you will find the ground littered with rocks. Some of these rocks are...very dangerous to drow. I have had them enchanted to trigger upon drow, and to explode violently when they are touched by our dark cousins. Nymh fell afoul of a few of them, but at my last reckoning, eight or nine should still be there, unmolested. As a witch, you may be able to discern them from other more ordinary rocks...but you will have to search, because the spells which power them have been both inverted and sunk deep into the core of each stone by a druid, the better to hide them from easy detection. Perhaps your talents can do something with those weapons...make more of them, make them more potent, I know not. But it is a piece of knowledge that very few possess, and if you want to utilize them somehow, they are there for the taking." Emrith smiles again, and this time the expression is almost predatory, showing a line of strong teeth.

Lanara nods, finishing the remainder of her ale, and hanging on Emrith's every word. It was clear the witch wasn't entirely trusting or fond of Nymh, either, and she wouldn't be surprised if the half drow turned traitor, at some point. But she seemed pleased to know that Emrith shared similar observations, as well. It was rather comforting, to converse with another of her kind, and share similar points of view. "I do not want any salary. I am seeking a position in the lands, a job, you could say. But to be involved in something, that is so right, and that helps my own? I couldn't charge for that. But I will venture to Sage, and I will hunt down these rocks, you mentioned. Perhaps I can incorporate them into something useful, I will be sure to keep you posted." The witch then glances to her left and then to her right, lowers her voice to a barely audible level, and leans in. "When the moment is right, and you know you dare to follow through with this plan, you are to find a brown dove. Speak my name, and in our elven tongue, tell it to find me, and attach a message to it's feet with your location. I will meet you, and we will take it from there."

Emrith respects Lanara's desire for care, and finds himself appreciating both her tact and her specificity in this last request. "I will do as you say," he responds, just as softly. "Give you joy of those little gifts. It would please me greatly if they did not go entirely to waste. It had crossed my mind to simply retrieve them and then take them into Trist'Oth, but I feel they might have even better uses elsewhere." Emrith stands and stretches, wincing the slightest bit as his back crackles; it still aches a little from a glancing kick given to it by a frost giant some days ago. "It is good to find my own kin in this land," he says now, in common. "Fare you well, and give your sister my regards when next you should see her. Please let her know that a little haste may go a long way toward netting the traitor. As for you, I thank you for your acceptance of my proposal." Formal, right to the end, Emrith bows at the shoulder, then turns gracefully and makes to glide from Kelay Tavern. The night is still young.