Dastil (the dastardly) Darkblade was laying down atop the roof of a bakery in a small town by the name of Therilio. It was night time, but the town was fairly visible thanks to the full moon shining bright in the cloudless sky. Dastil had a crossbow resting on a small stand on the top of the building with the crosshairs aimed at the door of the tavern across the street> The tavern was called the "winking wizard" and it was a popular hangout, or a local merchant. Dastil had seen the merchant go in their earlier, and all he had to do now was wait for him to come. Dastil was very patient, and though he had been waiting all night, he has not relaxed his vigilance for even a second. Just then the fat merchant stumbled out through the doorway into the street. He stopped to grab the wall for a moment, most likely to try and keep his balance. The merchant had a habit of getting a little too drunk most of the time. As he held on to the wall Dastil quickly adjusted the aim of his crossbow. He poured a small vial over the tip of the arrow, and then focused on the merchant. The merchant seemed quit surprised when he suddenly found and arrow protruding from his throat. He collapsed to the ground, clutching the arrow protruding from his ruined windpipe. Just then another customer, a local village girl, came out of the inn. When she saw the growing pool of blood and the poor merchant clutching an arrow coming through his throat, all she could do was scream in terror. With that blood curdling scream everyone came rushing out of the inn, wanting to see what happened. By the time somone looked up at the roof of the bakery, there was nothing there. No trace of the murder was ever found.

A few days later, in the city of baldurs gate on the sword coast,
Dastil entered a dark building on an abandonded street corner. The building was empty save for a huge crate in the middle of it. Dastil walked up and looked at the crate, he disarmed 3 traps, and then opened the crate, inside was a bag. Dastil carried the bag all the way to his hideout, which was in the basement of an warehouse that he owned in the slums district. He opened the bag and pulled out what was in it. A pair of magical boots and large pouch of platinum pieces. Joram took of his boots and put the new boots on. Once he put them on his feet they fitted to his size immediately. Dastil smiled, there were advantages to being a hired assassin.

OOC: guess what this thread is about. i gave up on jorams final score and i am going to try this new approach to non-traditional story telling. I need other players to give me jobs to pull, and hopefully others that try to stop me. its pretty much AD&D 2nd edition based, but open for interpretation. only real rule is have fun. :D

[ 10-02-2002, 07:12 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

A teenage boy walks down into the hideout. "I saw you kill the merchent and I was wondering if you could do a job for me.I want this man dead.Or should I say demon?" The boy pulls out a picture of a slim man with dark here and red eyes.Horns coming from his forhead.He wore dark clothing and carried a short sword. "This man killed my friend.I battled him once,but I died and I was lucky a priest saw me and revived me.When he killed my friend he could not be healed or revived and that is why I want this demon dead.If you do this then I will give you 10,000 gold pieces along with magical short sword.The demon I want dead is called Urgoth Teton.He can be located somewhere here in the Slums.I hope your up for the job."

OOC: i dont understand whats going on here are there two jobs out there or one?

<font color=silver>ooc: Azrael, this is just the set-up post -- the follow up can wait until Dastil has taken care of the other job[s] [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>He paces nervously about the room occasionally pausing to look at a small piece of parchment held tightly in his right hand. To say he is troubled would be to dramatically understate the situation. For no less than the fourth time in the past month his counsel has been overlooked in favor of that provided by Duke Benham’s new favorite. Young Thomas is heir to control of the largest trading company in the Dutchy and his influence at the court has grown rapidly, far too rapidly. And should this rumored marriage between Thomas and the Duke’s daughter come to pass .....

“Why then all of us might as well be nothing more than mere employees of North Road Mercantile!” He spits the words out bitterly. It is bad enough that his own position has been greatly imperilled by this newcomer to the court, but the future of what he has worked so hard to build is also at risk in this matter. Time is growing short and he must act while he is still in a position to influence the outcome of events. He looks once more at the sheet of parchment, on it is a name, the name of one highly recommended who might provide an answer. His brow furrows as he debates this course of action. “Very well,” he says with a note of quiet resignation, “I shall see about arranging a meeting with this Dastil Darkblade.”</font>

OOC: sorry I had to kill your teenage boy, but that is what Dastil would have done, actually the traps leading to the hideout would have killed him, but if they got through Dastil would definitely kill them to keep his location under wraps, and eliminate witnesses. You'll have to go through, the now described usual channels to place a job. glad to have you aboard Cyril, I hope to get a bunch of players to post jobs for Dastil on here, kind of like a lot of cameo's, and regualr contributors as well in detectives hunting Dastil, or just people he meets in the course of business. Its a unique enough idea I am just wondering whether or not it will work.

After slaying th poor boy that stumbled into his hideout.Dastil worked up a sweat in the practice room, as he practiced to hone his deadly arts. He wasn't the best because he was lucky. Obviuosly he needed some luck in his profession, but Dastil tended to beieve the old addage, 'chance favors the prepared mind', and Dastil thought body as well, on top of daily imbibing many different poisons, and toxins, to build a natual immunity to the poisons he worked with on a daily basis, Dastil also spent 4 hours a day training with various weapons, in hand to hand, melee, and ranged combat. Dastil had a photographic memory and could instantly recall the face of any mark or any potential client upon seeing it once. Dastil was not completely ambidexterous, he did tend to favor his right hand, but in a pinch his left hand was equally capable of dealing a killing blow, with only slightly less percision.
On this particular day Dastil was working on throwing darts, he was able to place 5 of them within a 6 inch cluster from 100 feet fairly regularly. Just as he was throwing his sixth dart a pigeon flew through the window and landed on a perch in the far corner of the room. (Since Dastil was an assassin he needed to protect his identity, even from those who would seek to hire him, therefore Dastil employed several agents, that people would contact when they needed to get a hold of him. Upon word of a job these agents would send a homing pigeon to Dastil with the information of a potential job. Dastil then sent the pigeon back, whether he was interested or not. Dastil trained these pigeons himself, and not even his agents had seen his unmasked face.) Dastil walked over to the pigeon and removed a small piece of parchment from its foot, He read the parchement and then promptly threw it in the fire, burning in the opposite corner of the room. He then walked into the next room which contained his desk. He pulled out some paper and scribbled a brief note, it read :Alley next to the 'bare arsed maiden' 3:30AM tonight sharp or forget about it. He promptyl tied the note to the pigeon and sent it on its way confidentof the proper parties being informed. This is the kind of job Dastil liked, one offered by a rich client. More payoff usually meant more risk, so he would just have to not screw up. He finished his workout, and then started preparing for his meeting with his newest client.

[ 07-31-2002, 08:24 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Thanks for the welcome, Azrael. :D </font>

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>A meeting in an alley in the dark hours between midnight and sunrise, a simple message really, but a remarkable message all the same in the manner that it must have traveled from contact to contact -- from this Dastil’s agents to his own – to finally reach him. The location of the meeting is fortuitous, a section of the city just respectable enough that a visit will not provoke suspicion and just libertine enough that much will pass unremarked, and most important of all it is a section of the city where his own face is not well known. ~ A clever man this Dastil. Yes, most clever ....

He indulges this thought for a few moments before putting it aside. The meeting is this very night and there are preparations to be made.</font>

[ 08-02-2002, 11:47 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

Darkness had long since descended on the city, and even the rowdy crowd from the bars had made their way home at least an hour earlier. The streets were completely deserted as Dastil made his way through the shadows. Not even the wiley street smart animals detected the presence of the masterful assassin as he moved surreptitiously through the darkened alleys of the pre-dawn town. All his preparations were in place for the meeting with his newest client. He Moved to the spot where he deemed it neccesary to await his newest client, and began scouting the surrounding streets waiting for his arrival.

OOC: sorry it took me so long to finish this post, but shit happens

[ 08-16-2002, 05:20 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

Shadow relaxed in front of the fire. He yawned and calmly started to clean the blood off of his short sword with a silk shirt... which happened to be attached to the kings advisor's dead body. "This is getting too easy, i wonder, am i the getting better (like there could be any better) or is everyone else in the world getting dumber." He stood up and pulled a bottle of wine from the cupboard and had a sip, "With the amount of money he had you would think that he could aford some decent wine."

He dragged the corpse over to the window and used a rope to hang the corpse out the front of the palace. His employer wanted bloody and brutal, he will get bloody and brutal. Shadow wondered why he was still doing this, it certainly wasn't the money, he had earned more then enough already, he was already mixing with nobles and living in a mansion. No, Shadow thought, i know why i am doing this. It is the challenge, the sport. It is all that i know, and all that i want to do.

As he finished cleaning up the blood he wondered about Dastil and whether he would be a compeditor to him. Shadow shook his head, he did not expect Dastil to survive for overly long, according to his sources he would be meeting with Silas. It was known that Silas was not a man to leave loose ends which may catch up with him in the future.

Shadow left the palace and returned to his home, already decided that he shall keep a close eye on Mr Darkblade.

OOC: You don't mind if i join in do you?
As usual my character is half elf Thief/Mage
mainly thief but with enough magical knowledge to be feared.

[ 08-18-2002, 12:34 AM: Message edited by: shadowhound ]

"Do you understand what I want you to do Timmy?" Dastilasked the young boy homeless boy that he usually used for his 'dealings' in this part of town. He paid the boy well for his services, and he knew he was loyal.

"Yes sir." Timmy replied with a tired smile. "But why does it always have to be so late at night?"

Dastil just smiled at the boy and tossed him a small purse. The boy grabbed the purse and looked inside. His eyes lit up. "You know where to meet me at after you talk to him?" he asked the boy.

"Yes sir, I'll see you when it is over." With that the boy ran off to meet Dastil's newest client, with Dastil following silently and out of sight well behind him.

OOC: hell no mate your welcome to join and bring a friend [img]smile.gif[/img] it is really as open as a Denny's.

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>He takes no pains to move with stealth as that would only draw attention to one such as himself and there is always the possibility of curious and alert eyes along these dark streets. No, better by far to simply move with the unhurried gate of a libertine noble returning from a late night tryst. He has, of course, disguised himself – a simple task, really, involving little more than clothing slightly out of his usual style and the careful choice of ambiguous symbols of status, things more than sufficient to ensure that he is unrecognized by any passerby whom he might chance upon. He has timed his movement carefully and so he arrives at the place of meeting punctually at the assigned time, neither sooner nor later.

The approach of a boy takes him momentarily by surprise, but he remains silent. ~ Very well, then, I shall listen to what the youth has to say. ~ His own eyes narrow as he considers this turn of events and as the boy draws near he reaches a decision ~ But I shall discuss nothing of these matters with a boy. ~ He waits then in silence for the youth to convey whatever message he brings.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Welcome, Shadowhound [img]graemlins/happywave.gif[/img] </font>

The boy strides confidently toward the only other person on the street.
"He was right where the man told him he would be, and right on time," he thought as he walked towards him to convey the appointed message.
"Who?" Timmy asked, it was a simple enough question and straight to the point, far from the eloquent verbal jousting of the court that Silas was used to.
The boy's calm cool demeanor in waiting for the answer was evidence enough for Silas to determine that he had done this before, more than once. The assassin was probably even nearby hiding in the shadows watching what happened.

OOC: Dastil is in contact with Timmy through telepathy via a magical item he owns.

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>He nods in appreciation at the boy’s calm directness. It is a simple question he asks, but one that invites many answers. Bending near the boy he opens his purse and shaking out a few coppers places them in his hand, the typical gesture of an indulgent noble. One of the coins, which he presses firmly against the boy’s palm bears the impression of the distinct seal of young Thomas Falstaff, heir to the controlling position within North Road Mercantile. “Him,” he says softly. Closing the purse, he rises.</font>

Timmy seems to be thinking about something. He stares directly at the customer's midsection, seemingly not seeing anything.
"Interesting" the young boy mouths, "and how would you like it to appear, bloody and public, 'natural causes', or maybe he just disappears? Different ways cost different amounts." With this the boy's head snaps around and he pushes Silas back deeper into the alley, and just in time too, as a drunken man abruptly stumbles around the the corner, right where they would have been standing. He goes on his way without seeing the two hidden deep in the alley.
"Well, Silas" Timmy said and let out a little yawn, seeming to grow impatient with the dangerour transaction.

OOC: Dastil knows most of the poeple of influence in the city, just because its his job to kill them usually, ;) so I would assume that he would recognize Silas, if you don't agree PM me and Ill think of something else [img]smile.gif[/img]

<font color=silver>ooc: Just a quick note -- I'm leaving town tomorrow for work and then to take some time with my father. I'll be gone about 2 weeks. I'll be online during this time, just not as frequently as usual and so my posting rate will slow up a bit.

I'll try and put another post up for Silas later tonight.</font>

Take your time Cyril I am in no rush. In fact i am going out of town myslef for a few days and will have no internet access, as long as this thread continues at some point I will be please as punch. ;)

<font color=silver>ooc: Silas would have assumed that Dastil would recognize him rather easily and has made no real attempt to conceal his identity from the assassin. His rather modest disguise is simply to assure that he is not recognized by any passerby.</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>He senses the boy's impatience, but proceeds deliberately. This is a dangerous and delicate matter and he has risked far too much in choosing this course of action to allow for the sloppiness of haste just when he must make himself perfectly clear. "I would like," he speaks slowly in a low and cautious tone that carries a hint of resolute firmness about it, "it to be appear to be the work of a professional of moderate ability and I would like the work of this professional of moderate ability to be traceable by a constable of fair ability to a high ranking member of North Road Mercantile itself. I trust your resources are sufficient to select a superficially unlikely suspect who, upon some digging, has ample motive for such a deed." He pauses then and draws a few deep breaths before continuing. "This is a difficult request, I realize, and one that undoubtedly demands a very high price. What are your terms?"</font>

Timmy paused for a moment seemingly thinking about what what was said.
"A very complicated task to say the least, but one that could be accomplished, say for 5,000 GP, which is a very reasonable sum for this type of thing. Of course 1/2 will be paid up front in approximately one week, and the rest paid upon the completed service. There is only one stipulation, and that is at some undetermined point in the future, you will be asked to perform a task. Nothing too riske, and nothing beyond your" a slight pause "abilities. It could be something as simple as having a package delivered, but you will need to perform this task when asked to, then our deal will be complete. Also know who you are dealing with and realize what the penalty will be for refusing this service if you choose to do so after this job is completed," Timmy said. His small form carried a aura of complete confidence, something very rare in one so young, and in his situation in life. His posture said that he was calm, even bored, but his eyes reflected back everything, and were completely unreadable. Silas could see why he choose this boy as an agent. The impatience was mearly an act to try and get him flustered. "So FRIEND" Timmy placed stress on the last word. "What say you?"

[ 09-04-2002, 05:09 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue> Friend .... an interesting choice of words to follow a thinly veiled threat. A curiously ambiguous word. How much like the language of the court this conversation in the darkness of an alley has proven to be! ~ Silas smiles in the darkness. This is now familiar ground and he has terms of his own, small but vital things that his own circumstances require. Reaching into the folds of his garment he withdraws a purse heavy with gems and without releasing it settles it into the boy’s hand that he might feel it’s heft. “You should easily be able to sell the contents of this pouch for the initial fee you have requested – even more if you are as talented as I believe you to be. Another bag of gems like this one shall be yours upon completion of this work.” He pauses to let his words register with the boy and the unseen Dastil who somehow listens through the ears of the youth. “And I assume you are well aware of the potential benefits that my good will toward you offers. Indeed, I do hope that I should be so pleased with the results of our little arrangement this night that I might avail myself of your help in one or two other matters.”</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: The pouch holds about 3000 gp worth of gems of mixed sizes and types with one or two stones that might be cut to increase their values. Silas is obviously quite willing to pay for results and to avoid the risk of multiplying meetings. Should Dastil accept this payment he will release hold of the pouch and return home.</font>

Dastil mentally signalled for Timmy to accept the proposal, which he did, and rendezvous later with him t give him the gems. Everything was working out perfectly for him. Little did this Silas know what kind of 'favor' that he had planned for him. The money was of little enough consequence. Dastil was pleased with himself as he travelled home that day.

<font color=silver>ooc: Azrael - now that the job has been agreed upon how would you like things to proceed?</font>

OOC: im thinking you could RP the part of the victim, and I will study his habits for awhile and then do the job, or something like that. maybe he gets hints as to somone following him, maybe even offers the assassin more money to spare his life, or to not kill him, i really don't know, nor do i want to (make it a surprise) but thats half the fun of it. play it however you want to play it mate, just have fun with it, while we breeed intrigue :D
[img]graemlins/dancing.gif[/img] [img]graemlins/shooter19.gif[/img] [img]graemlins/starwars.gif[/img] [img]graemlins/beheaded.gif[/img]

<font color=silver>ooc: Sounds good. [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img] Just give me a day or so to come up with a few ideas and I'll be good to go.</font>

<font color=white>The Falstaff Estate</font>

<font color=plum>Life ~ thinks Thomas ~ is good. Very good indeed. ~ He savors the taste of the wine, a gift from the duke's own cellars, as he reclines in his chair before the fire. "Yes," he says quietly, a pleased expression on his face, "a good vintage, and with my coming marriage to Mariella, a vintage I am sure to be savoring regularly for some time to come." To be so young and already to have found such favor with the duke ~ Even Silas does not hold the ear of the duke to such an extent as I do! And my power will only grow after the marriage. Think of it! Heir to control of North Road Mercantile and heir to the Dukedom as well ..... His smile broadens and he raises the crystal goblet again to his lips -- a truly excellent vintage. Yes, it would seem that nothing can prevent his climb into power.</font>

Silent and nearly nonexistant Dastil watches from the shadows of a tree outside of Thomas' window. Dastil sees the merchant smirk, and see him savor the wine out of a crystal goblet.
"Look at him" Dastil thought, "feeling so secure and so sure of himself." Dastil smirked. "How quickly things can change" Dastil thought, and this thought brought Dastil a smirk of his own. Dastil had been following Thomas for three days now. He had seen him have and altercation with one of his employees that he ended up firing. Dastil thought that this was the perfect target to pin the perfect crime on. The man's name was Zedrin Tarmoff. He was a vice president up until yesterday, when Thomas had accused him of stealing and had fired him. Dastil had watched as Thomas took the money out of the company coffers, and pocketed it himself. Dastil had also watched as he planted the seeds of doubt into the minds of other employees and then confronted Zedrin about it. With the other employees backing him Thomas fired the man. All of this was of no concern to Dastil except how it related to his current mark. This Zedrin would be useful. Dastil had already Made plans on how to lead the ignorant authorities back to Zedrin. Now he just needed to wait for the right time to put his plan into action. Waiting was always something Dastil was good at. It came with the profession.
OOC: check your PMs mate ;)

<font color=silver>ooc: Sounds good, Azrael! [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img]
Hopefully this should give you plenty to work with.</font>

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>Even as the complacent Thomas savors both wine and possibilities under Dastil’s observation, Silas, unaware of these things passes the night at his desk. ~ So my confident young friend, you have made a bold move – with the news of your engagement to Mariella still ringing in the ears of those at the court no one is likely to challenge you over something so simple as the termination of an employee. ~ He sits back in his chair and reflects once more upon the details of this incident as it has come to him through the usual chains of sources. The young man does have some fine instincts for the rather brutal gamesmanship of power, instincts yes, but experience no. He has successfully removed an old and loyal presence from the company, one whose old loyalty was firmly in the camp of his uncle Richard. “Yes, Thomas,” he says quietly, “a very well-played defeat of your uncle, but you have not yet learned to see the hidden dangers in such victories.”

Silas thinks a moment. At the end of the month there is to be a reception at the Duke’s summer home for the young bride and her husband to be. The invitations to that reception had been sent out just a few days before the firing – Zedrin Tarnoff was among those invited that day, as, of course, was Richard Falstaff. ~ Dastil should have more than enough tools with which to work. ~ He smiles. Sometimes the simple and mundane efficiency of a well-trained secretary is all that matters. “I must see to it that I give Johanna and the rest of the staff a generous bonus this year.”</font>

[ 09-29-2002, 01:13 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

OOC: :D OK lets see what we can do with this. In the mean time check PMs

Nearly a month had passed since that shadowed meeting in the alley. All had fallen into place as Dastil had silently stalked Thomas, from the shadows. The fool was still unaware of just what was being planned around him. This would need to be a job of exact precision and decisive timing, luckily Dastil was easily capable of both, and more. . . Night has fallen, but this was no ordinary night for either Dastil, Thomas, Zedrin, or Silas. This would be a night silent deeds done unseen, in the shadows, but for some it was a night of celebration. This was the night of the party at the duke's summer home. A heavy fog had descended over the land, very unusual for this time of year. Dastil had been very busy over the past few weeks, following Thomas, and tracking his movements, and learning his habits, and how he interacts. He was also busy with other things, such as sowing rumors, about Zedrin's now supposed fuming hatred for Thomas, and Thomas' distain for Zedrin as well. Zedrin had gotten a job almost immediately after working for a rival merchant company, and he was still a well respected member of the upper class social community of Sword Coast. All was playing perfectly into Dastil's plan, but the hardest parts were yet to come. This would be a night none would forget for one reason or another. . .

<font color=white>Thomas Falstaff</font>

<font color=plum>Mariella is speaking happily with the Duke, her father, her delight at how the day’s events have gone apparent in her eyes. Thomas catches those eyes with his own and his face brightens with the smile that he has practiced for just this occasion. The young woman whom he is soon to marry smiles in return. That her devotion to him is clear for all to see pleases Thomas as it can only serve to secure his own position and that it is perceived that his own devotion to young Mariella is equally strong has made this day and this evening a true success. Turning once more to his father, he exchanges a knowing glance with the elder Falstaff who has instructed him so well in the art of giving the proper appearance of unfeigned affection. As surely as young Mariella is smitten with Thomas, just as surely shall her doting father soon be a ready puppet in their hands.

Still there is an undercurrent of potential trouble which must be addressed. “I have still heard nothing from my sources other than the same vague warnings of plots against your life,” the elder Falstaff says quietly.

“Then either there is no danger at all or our opponent knows us well to have left so little information for you to discover.”

“My thoughts exactly. Still, I am quite pleased with the performance of the bodyguards we have emloyed.”

“Yes, father, and judging by the ease with which they have blended into the gathered nobility here they look to have much potential for future employment in our service.”</font>

OOC can I join in?
i'm a wizard/ninja/blackbelt friend of dastils we meet whist on a mission toghether and sometimes work toghether I have an item/skill he needs for his finall mission remember:we've been friends for a long time.

OOC lets make it skill so he cant just kill me/rob me like he to did demon boy (cant remember name)

<font color=silver>ooc: Welcome, Chi master! [img]smile.gif[/img]

I'm looking forward both to seeing what you and Azrael work out and to gaming with you.</font>

<FONT COLOR=GRAy>LILYBLACK(She sneaks back to he kip, clutching a sodden bundle)

OOC
What should I be called? (I'm not good with names)

<font color=silver>ooc: Looks like one of Galadria's Hazardous Times posts found its way here by mistake.

But that comment is merely an excuse to <font color=turquoise size=+2>BUMP</font> this thread back up top.</font> [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img]

Cmon guys help me out here

Dastil watched from the shadows of the windows, invisible. He could tell by the easy, measured gait of some of the party goers, that they were experienced fighters. Not a crowd Dastil would want to have to fight one on one, but that wasn't his style anyways. A few thugish partygoers would not ruin this carefully planned event. Dastil quickly and silently moved away from the window. And began his ascent to the appointed window, he planned on sneaking into the party at.

<font color=white>Silas Jefferson</font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>With a movement whose innocent appearance has been honed over long years of intrigue at the court he glances in the direction of Richard Falstaff, the estranged uncle of young Thomas, in such a way as to draw the duke’s eyes toward Richard as he scowls at the exchange of smiles between Thomas and Mariella. Noting that the duke fixes his gaze upon Richard Silas looks up distractedly and says, “A formidable man. Indeed it is unfortunate that he seems to have included young Thomas in whatever quarrel he has with his brother.”

“Yes, he shall bear careful watching, that one,” the duke says in reply.

“Indeed he shall,” Silas says simply. While his face betrays no emotion, inwardly he smiles. The proper seeds have been planted.</font>

OOC: just to let you know this thread isn't dead I am just thinking, a task, which of late, has been very hard for me. I'm trying to think of a cohesive unique way to pull this off, and I think I might have stumbled on it. There should be a post within the next couple days. Sorry about the delay though it is really only cyril and I participating. [img]smile.gif[/img]