Game: Through the Looking Glasses

As they continued through the thoroughfare, Kessel reflected upon this. Deep in thought, he was quiet the entire way (an incredibly rare occourrance) until they arrived at the abode of Ssromn. Upon crossing through the archway leading in, the dragonblood turned to Maarten. "So, you lied? You don't work for Lord Cavendish?" the question was not malignant, but playful. An alopecia brow arched.

"As the bard Dylan wrote, 'You gotta seeeehrve somebadeeh.'" (In this, the dragonblood approached the statue and uttered the quotation in a nasal whine that gave the impression the bard in question wasn't a very good singer...) He sat down on a cushion and awaited the parlayance.

[Another figure steps out of the shadows, wearing a hat that reads "DM #2". But what dire news does this new figure bring? MJ is going to be out of touch for a little while. So I'm stepping in. Sorry for any disruption this may cause.]

Ssromn takes a few creaking, grinding steps to the center of the room and then stands. The being is made of multifaceted stones, seemingly cut in rough imitation of a human figure. The Delver seems to subtly command your attention with the weight of its presence. Its words find their way into your head without Ssromn even turning. <Indeed. Secrets are but knowledge contained in a shell, but with patience and effort even the deepest may be excavated. It is lore for which I delve. Knowledge is among the keenest of tools, and with the proper crafter may cut the sharpest facet. But so many visitors as honored as you would not visit me for any common lore. You seek something important, I sense. It remains to be known whether or not I have such knowledge.>

The well-dressed diplomat had dealt with such beings many times in the past. Strange beings, these knowledge brokers, always mysterious and always powerful. He enjoyed their usually philosophical approaches to their trade and considered that some distant day, he might take up this particular calling himself. Some day. After all, he had *all* the time in the world.

Speaking in Common so that the others could follow the exchange, Victor responded to the Delver. "Common knowledge, being common, has little value. The knowledge we seek is not so common. What price would you ask of us? Or perhaps that depends on the question?"

OOC: Am I the only player left?

[Are we still waiting for somebody's haitus? MJ is running around, but he's covered. I'll toss this in. We can at least continue this conversation while we're waiting to regroup.]

Your ways are strange. You still have not explained why you have sought me out or what it is you seek. What precious vein attracts your efforts?
The faceted being turns a bit more, setting down an emerald it had been holding in its hand and, apparently, contemplating. Every movement creates a grinding din from its crystalline limbs. You can feel the weight of this creature, the weight of its stone body and the weight of the ages. To learn my secrets, I must learn yours. And what I require is this: From where do you each derive your strength? What deep lode feeds your quest? From what secret ores do you forge your resolve? What, in your terms, is it that drives you and lends you power? To unearth these secrets would please me much.

Victor listens to the Delver's price with growing trepidation. His secrets are his own and his peoples', not to be shared lightly with others, especially strangers. He chooses his words carefully.

"As I said, I'm a man of secrets. They are both my merchandise and the tools of my trade. My strength comes from secrets dearly paid-for and closely guarded, and from deceptions carefully constructed." Knowing that this would not satisfy the Delver, Victor steels himself to reveal much more.

"We spanned the realms once, walking and working side by side with men, though we kept our nature hidden even then. Now, ravaged by a war we did not want, we hide from enemies whom we have deceived into believing us wholly destroyed. That was no simple feat, even for us. But we have hidden too long. Our people suffer for it. Our spirit is... dying. We will not let that happen. *I* will not let that happen."

Feeling suddenly exposed, Victor's eyes dart from face to face, searching for any evidence of recognition or intent to betray him. He makes no threat, but the threat is clearly implied - I will kill to protect this secret.

"Now, Delver, you know my secret, or at least that part of it that I can afford to give you. What we seek is perhaps trivial by comparison..."

Victor briefs the Delver on their mission to find the would-be assassins, the trail that lead to Deleur, and the apparent oddity of the waiter's name and appearance. Somehow all of this is connected, and the well-dressed man wants to know how.

Nasim nods slowly. 'Interesting...' he mutters, in that voice people use when they're not intending to speak to anyone but themselves. 'I concur,' he says. It may be unclear what he's referring to, as he said it nearly a minute after Victor had said the others must share their secrets, too, but then he goes on to clarify his statement.

'We could use more information from the Delver, thus we must all share.'