Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20150708222546/@comment-5583506-20150713035412

Teius-Kei was the name of the innkeeper. He was a middle-aged Argonian with a vibrant brown hue to his scales, although the age had caused them to detoriate into a sickly dark grey. He had a pair of watchful slit eyes, which spoke lengths of things that he had both seen and experienced.

"Don't tell me", he said as a couple of the Investigators entered the inn. "Investigators? Am I right? I would know the look of those people anywhere. We are however pleased to serve those who would bring the murderer of Theomyr Cordius to justice."

Anjhira seemed surprise that the Argonian knew about the murder, but then she had somehow gotten the impression that the alchemist was well-liked and locally known in Leyawiin. The news of his death had probably spread more widely than a common flu.

"This one is Anjhira", she said a bit quietly, as if she didn't want to raise any questions. "And this is..." She knew the Dunmer's name. She was good at keeping herself up to date with the identities of active Investigators. Especially those who considered her rise among the ranks to be shameful. "Ta... Talyn..." she said, correcting herself at the time. "We would like to order a few rooms for an unspecified time."

The Argonian nodded in understanding. "Of course, of course", he replied as if it meant the world to him. "Anything for the Investigators. Anyone who wants to bring the... the psychotic son-of-a-bitch who did this to justice, is a friend of mine."

He bent down behind a dark, cobwebbed counter and brought up a ring of rusty iron keys, counting them on his fingers to make sure he got the right numbers.

"There", he said. "They are all rooms built for two so that you can discuss what you have found out during the end of the day."

Anjhira nodded vaguely and shied away to the room at the far end, holding her key.

''Built for two? ''she reflected with some dismay.

She preferred solitude. She didn't work well with other people. Mostly because of her condition. She could just as easily become a burden as she could become a liability, and she didn't trust these people enough to know whether or not they were the kind of Investigators who used to gossip behind her back about how she had only gotten this far due to her "gift"... or "curse". It was all a matter of perspective...

''The sights will take their toll on you, sweet child... ''Her mother's words echoed in her head.

But perhaps they were right about her. It was all due to her sixth sense she had gotten this far. Without it, she was nothing. Without it she was just as capable as any regular man or woman of a local City Watch. She was by no means unintelligent, but in comparison to other Investigators she definitely lacked some initiative. The majority of all of her cases had been solved thanks to the fact that she had been able to "see" the solution laid bare in front of her. She called a part of her nature, her personality... a part of whom she was. Others called it fraud...

She entered the room with the number 14. It had grey, dull tapestry; a bunk bed; and a desk with a chair, all of which were possibly held together by rust and dead termites rather than sturdy wooden frames. She imagined that the oddly discoloured mattress was crawling with all kinds of critters and insect life.

She shuddered as she sat down on the bottom bed. It was soft, but that didn't mean that it was comfortable. She just wanted to rest up for a short while before doing what was expected of her on this assignment: her job...

(Alright, time for the plot to thicken... and hopefully turn more eerie than it already was...)

(Music )

"THE FORMULA WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND..." hissed the hoarse voice from within the dark, damp cellar. "HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?"

A crude, disfigured hand, more looking like a paw or something in-between human and animal swung around in the darkness and knocked a bottle over with its long claws in a fit of rage, shattering the glass and spilling out its contents all over the floor.

The servants were awkwardly quiet as they observed their master sliding over the dirt floor with his slow, lumbering movement, almost limping over the surface. His body was now distorted beyond recognition and they could sometimes barely stand to look at the face hidden underneath the hood of the black robe.

''What face? ''remarked one of them, although he would never dare to say it to his master.

The large, robed figure gave out an odd sound from its throat, halfway between a whine and a guttural snarl. "WHATEVER THEOMYR CORDIUS KNEW DIED WITH HIM. BUT THE OTHER THREE BASTARDS ARE STILL ON THE RUN... THEY WILL ALL PAY... PAY FOR WHAT THEY DID TO US... WHAT THEY DID TO ME..."

As the servants' master turned around they could discern some of his facial features hidden beneath the hood. A chill of discomfort found its way down their spines, but they did their best to hide it, lest they invoke his wrath... They needed to remain true and loyal to him... and to the other five... The Order... If the Great Work could be completed they would all revel in the secrets of the Order. Become as equals to their masters who would share with them of everything, but only if they were there till the end. To the completion. The completion of the Great Work.

But there was still a long way to go. If Theomyr Cordius had known something about the contents or the location of the formula to complete the Great Work, he had kept as silent as a wall in some forlorn tomb, right until his dying breath. At least the man had been so dedicated to his arts that he had chosen to take the secret with him to the grave. That much was admirable. But the fact remained that he was one of the reasons behind their masters'... condition...

"AGGIO", wheezed their master, as if he struggled with his breath to get the word out of his mouth.

"Master?" said a young Imperial with markings on his face, depicting the alchemical alphabet. He had short, cut black hair and purple bags underneath his eyes.

The large hand with the claws cupped the chin of the young man and held his head forcefully so that he would look his master directly into the eyes. The long claws were perfectly formed around his head and didn't even as much as scrape his skin. The other servants looked on in awe and envy... and fear... Even though they were all loyal to their master and his four other accomplices in Cyrodiil, they had never really had much courage to face him directly. They knew what was hidden underneath those robes. A big shapeless, lump of monstrousity and terror. But the most unsettling detail was the eyes...

They all remembered well their initiation to become the servants and henchmen of the Order. But they could never have imagined that beneath that hood a pair of white, sickly-looking eyes with piercing pupils, which seemed to stare into the very bottom of their souls, would judge whether or not they were worthy to participate in helping the masters to fulfill the creation of the Great Work.

"I CAN TRUST THAT YOU WILL NOT FAIL ME ON THIS ASSIGNMENT, AGGIO?" asked the hoarse voice.

"I will never fail you master. You have brought enlightenment to my life, but I know that only the completion of the Great Work will truly be worth an entire lifetime."

The large form seemed to clear its throat, though the sound was more that of perhaps a cat... slowly choking... "GOOD... GOOD..." coughed the voice. "I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A PAIR OF SHARP EYES. THE CITY WATCH WILL PROBABLY HAVE DISCOVERED CORDIUS' BODY BY NOW... HOWEVER, THE NEXT NIGHTFALL I WANT YOU TO SNEAK INTO THE MANSION AND THOUROUGHLY SCOUR THE ROOM FOR ANYTHING WE MIGHT HAVE MISSED... ANYTHING... YOU HEAR?"

Artus Aggio nodded. "It will be my greatest honor, master."

The voice seemed pleased. "THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WE MAY HAVE MISSED... A DOCUMENT... A VIAL... A REAGENT... ANYTHING... THE TRAIL CANNOT END WITH CORDIUS' DEATH... I... NO... WE... MUST MAKE SURE THAT THE GREAT WORK DOES NOT END WITH THE DEATH OF THAT USELESS BRETON. HE MUST HAVE HAD SOME SORT OF CONTACT WITH HIS COMPANIONS... SOME SORT OF CORRESPONDENCE. I DON'T WANT THE TRACE TO GROW COLD... I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE TO WAIT..."

There was a long, burred sound coming from their master, supposedly the sound of a long sigh. "I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE TO WAIT FOR THAT LONG AGAIN... PLEASE, MAKE SURE THAT YOU FIND SOMETHING, AGGIO. BECAUSE IF THE TRAIL TO THE GREAT WORK GROWS COLD, SO DOES YOUR CHANCES OF EVER BEING A PART OF IT."

Artus swallowed hard and nodded in understanding. "Anything for you, master. I will begin my search by the next moon... or die trying. Long live the Order!"

The other servants looked on in slight discomfort as if they were all simultaneously having the same morbid thought: Hadn't the Order lived long enough?