Of Seemings and Shadows
Twenty-Seventh Day of the Second Month 293 AC
There is a time and a place for complex plans, carefully balanced to obtain the most gain for the least effect, indeed do the wheels turn over Tyrosh this day, a plan a month and more in the making, but there are also times to count upon speed and sheer power to see you safely over hurdles.
You take on the guise of a member of the accursed conclave as best you canm for they were not accommodating enough to carry some simple easily seen mark of their allegiance according to Garin. Black robes, a cowl, a mask to hide most of the face and a leprous green glow to your eyes rather than the steady blue of the sight is the best you can do. Besides you Dany once more draws on the well of dream-rooted power to take on a still markedly inhuman appearance, a scaled monkey with a trio of black insectile eyes wide and staring...
"How could anyone have smuggled a daemon into the camp?" Ser Richard's voice comes seemingly from empty air as he is meant to be the one to subdue the treacherous sellsword.
"The same way we actually smuggled ourselves in, by magic," your sister shrugs, her hideous glamour making it a nightmarish boneless thing. "The best lies are rooted in truth. More to the point, it will be a show of power that will hopefully see 'our friend' be far too concerned with getting the deed done than questioning us."
Unlike his commander Mero had taken chambers in the halls provided by the Tyroshi, though that is hardly suspicious in and of itself, for he is the commander of the vanguard and thus the light horse of the Second Sons. It is only good sense that he sleep near the stables to ensure the beasts are well-treated and not harmed.
That reasoning, however, runs very thin indeed once you reach the man's chambers, avoiding the guarded doors in favor of simply materializing past a second story window into a set of rooms that is made up in equal parts of opulence and poor taste. Lanterns hung on long copper chains illuminating a patchwork of tapestries showing neither rhyme nor reason in their themes, while the only thing binding the monstrously ornate furniture together is the fact that it all looks hefty enough to brain a man with in a pinch.
Fortunately no Daemons lurk in the shadows between the trophies of past battles and gaudy baubles of all sorts. The apartments seem to be as free of otherworldly power as the captain's tent. That is until you come face to face with Mero, very much awake in spite of the hour. A tall man with bushy red-and-gold beard grown wild and tangled, his pale green eyes are like thin glass behind which darkness roils. He has already been possessed.
"Who the hells are you?" he unknowingly echoes his captain, though his tone is much different, almost frenzied. "Come to take it back, are you? Well I'm not giving it up!"
"The belt," Dany hisses.
So warned you manage to force your eyes to look at the sellsword's belt which seems more an indistinct shadow than a thing of matter, so strong is the glamour upon it. From the tendrils of tainted radiance that stretch out from it like distended veins you easily guess that this is the seat of the dark spirit. By the same measure it appears quiescent for now.
What do you do?
[] Fight Mero and whatever rides him where the stone walls will hopefully muffle the sounds of battle
-[] Write in plan
[] Try to lure him into his commander's presence. Having a fiend tear its way out of his flesh would be among the best proof you can engineer
-[] Write in plan
[] Write in
OOC: You can't tell what sort of daemon is possessing him, but from the look of the artifact it must be decently strong.
Time to use Imprison Possessor.
