Fading Smoke
Fourteenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
The Ash-Bloods were gone, the rumors in the souk claimed, not killed by the dervishes, not chained and sold off at some devil's pleasure, just
gone. Their contacts could not find them to cut deals and even the smoke merchants, notorious for knowing all the best rumors from the lips of addled customers, didn't know anymore than that. Maelor did not like surprises, he especially didn't like surprises that involved former associates falling off the face of the earth. The last time that had happened... well, that had been in Mantarys just before the Listeners' thugs caught up to him. He would probably be able to gut those bastards with his eyes closed these days, but this was the City of Brass and there were far more dangerous foes to be found under the burning skies.
"You set 'em up to take the fall for the Fakir, didn't you?" Bronn asked carelessly when Maelor explained his worries. "Looks to me like they took it and there's no bloody thread binding us honest merchants to that nasty business to the Fakir of Fortune."
"And if they were all hung 'r drawn and quartered I'd be a lot more at ease about the whole thing," the boy counters. "It's this not knowing shit. Sarel..." he turned to the devil oiling her armor in the corner of the room. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Incomplete knowledge is always dangerous in war," the fury agreed. "However, it is also unavoidable. Have you attempted to scry them?"
The boy shook his head defiantly; "I know Agha's got some kind of trap of mages' wandering eyes set up. I don't want to get the House of Mirrors in the middle of that. If he has some way of knowing where he's being scryed from that would be more explaining than any of us can manage. And if he's a prisoner or dead we have to assume anyone who could beat him is at least as skilled."
"I could probably kill him with a bit of luck and I don't know shit about magic," the sellsword pointed out, still untroubled.
"Could you make him and his whole gang vanish?" Maelor pressed. "Even the priest of Yss gave me a riddle that's clear as mud."
Seek in places you have already found
Bone dry it shall be yet by the ages drowned
By treachery condemned are the lost
And you shall be left counting the cost
"Isn't counting what we have all these assistants for?" Bronn asks, though in spite of the jape his gaze is more serious. "Reckon we should call in a favor with that Silas fellow to find out what happened, he said he was a seer too."
"Two birds with a single stone, eh? Get him used to trading favors, ask him for something small so he's not spooked and have our answers, risky though if he gets caught. The mage who captured him is still out there and even in good standing too since Silas doesn't want to involve the guild masters lest they stumble on his Mossovite trade."
What does Maelor do about the vanished Ash-Bloods?
[] Try to find out more with present resources
-[] Write in
[] Enlist Silas' aid
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: Quite short, but once again it's really late for me so it was a short update or none at all until tomorrow.