Chapter 1: The Shadow Moot

Beneath the streets of the Free City of Greyhawk…



The hollow, watery sounds of a Cistern echo through the room, becoming one with the clamor of shuffling feet on stone, idle talk, and mugs being drained and plates scraped.

Principal Nicastro Saloman: "All right, ye lot! Order! I know, yer naught but vagabonds and scoundrels, but I know you know what Order is! So, ORDER! … … *casts his eyes from side to side as the din subsides* Yes. Fine, fine. Well, you all know why we’re here. The word travels quickly enough… Maestro Pavel has gone missing.

What may be news to you is he was not on any official Guild business at the time, and he is not believed to have been about any of his Council duties either, indeed he was at his leisure – or at least recently so – on the Docks. And in the span of maybe 30 minutes and less than 1 kilometer he went missing. Of course he has his enterprises like any of us, but he was to be on his way to Guild business so we don’t believe it was any of his private affairs either… With the War and the unrest in the City, we are looking at many avenues.

So yes, to get this official business out of the way; while he is absent, I will be acting and speaking in his stead as decreed by the Writ. You will bring your dues to me, you will bring your Guild issues to me, and that is how we move forward in what is undoubtedly his temporary absence.

Now, Capo Sharyn Messandier has volunteered to allocate some of the Quarter Boys – and gals, yes – to pursuing the Maestro's whereabouts more vigorously. If you have information that we should know, take it to her. She will be my hand in this for the foreseeable future.

With that I will open the floor up to questions, and new business."

Capo Repnel Porton: "You’re mad if you think Gallow Hall is going to bring you their Dues, Saloman!!"

At the Capo’s outburst, the clamor erupts with the renewed vigor of heated argument. It is several moments before there is a lull in the colliding voices. Nicastro is clearly biting his lip, staving off anger.

As Nicastro grips the edges of the table, his knuckles white, Messandier raises an eyebrow in return to Nulgha and snorts.

"Hear, hear!", comes the vocal reply to Gord from a handful of parties around the room. However there must be an equal number expressing displeasure at his words... Nicastro's slams the Silver Skull down on the table once, and it is the only thing that keeps the room from descending into cacophony again.

Capo Helfdan clears his throat: "What of Heimart, Nicastro? His Yellow Jackets have the Foreign Quarter by the balls, the Low City under heel, and the Artisans by the throat! Maestro Alektri was promising us results soon. This is your burden now." The weight in his words evident.

Nicastro takes a long drink from his flagon, staring at Helfdan the whole time... Repnel Porton stands abruptly and leaves the room.

Helfdan looks to Nulgha and says, "I don't rightly care who gets his Lordship to lay off this business of turning the whole damn city on us, if you think you have the means, I'm sure you'd make more than a few friends doing it."

Nicastro butts in, over-enunciating each word, "I will speak with Heimart when next the Quintumvirate meets. You know I sit for the Landed... The Maestro already had his ear, all that I am wanting of now is his Word. And that is what I shall have." he glares at Nulgha.
...
The room is ill at ease as Principal Saloman continues to hear some new business from one of the minor gangs. Aside from Capo Porton's - whom you know has a personal history with Saloman, Nulgha's words were the only ones spoken in outright defiance of Saloman. But you also know he is not a popular figure in the Guild.

There are many conversations going on about the room, but the only people bothering to conceal their words - and you would wager then, the only one's saying much worth hearing - are the Capos Marlent and Messandier.

Nicastro blinks as Nulgha edges Orazia aside he's clearly surprised by the interruption, his eyes begin to bulge at the mention of Dues, and by the time you invoke Messandier's name he's scrabbling for the Silver Skull. He bobbles the relic as he hastens to slam it down onto the table and it flies from his grip off the side of the table - clattering on the floor with successive clarion tones.

He is on his hands and knees and several meters from the table before he retains the Skull. The entire room is silent, save for the muffled, hollow sluicing of water and Nicastro's feral breathing. All eyes are transfixed. He thrusts the macabre gavel out in one hand, taking slow steps and pointing it accusatorially at Nulgha, "I don't ... he shakes his head once as if dispelling the words he was going to say, ... you! ... his voice cracks as he draws a couple heavy breaths, ... I here-by revoke your title of association with the Thieves Guild of the Free City of Greyhawk, and all rights that entitles you." He stumbles as he regains his position by the head of the table. "I suggest you take your treacherous tongue from these Halls, before I carve it from your throat, and have you swinging from the Cross Street Bridge for your insolence!" His voice is a rasping hiss.

As Nulgha utters Saloman's name again, he sets the Skull down, turns calmly from the table and raises his voice to just beneath a shout, "Cease her!" as he walks towards the Maestro's door at the back of the room.

Three Guild Enforcers break into a run, drawing weapons.

All previous conversation in the room have ceased, and as the Enforcers exit the room in a rush, more people begin to leave as the official proceedings have apparently ended and it seems nothing much more exciting can happen than what already has. Several Capos still linger, and many new conversations start up as people marvel at the events of the evening.

Porton's majordomo, who had remained after the Capo had left, goes to the hallway down which the Enforcer's pursued Nulgha and looks down it searchingly for a moment before turning away to leave through the door his boss exited from.

Messandier stops talk abruptly as Capo Marlent does a double take, and kind of cocks her head at Gord, her eyes narrow curiously for just a moment. She smiles thinly to Messandier, nodding slightly as she steps toward Gord, "Quite the night at the Small Table, hmm? How has the Fence network fared thus far through Heimarts sudden... zealousness?"

Capo Marlent sniffs sharply, her brow knitted, "Things have been tough actually, we've kept our toehold in the Arena, but otherwise have been shut-out from nearly all of Clerkberg. From the taverns, to the temples, to the various schools and Collegium. Ever since Adzet screwed up his racket with the Alchemists every institution there has been on ... an aggressive ethics kick."

Capo Messandier strides to the table, picks up the Silver Skull and turns to the Maestro's door.
...
Down the hall from the Cistern and up a long flight of stairs at the door to the alley, the lead Enforcer slams into the door when he was expecting it to just open in his grasp. He frowns and leans into it, grunting as the other two arrive. "She thinks she can keep us in boys! Put yer back into it!"

She ponders a moment, "Honestly a lot of us, myself included, are depending on the Principal right now. The Maestro had something in the works with Heimart that was supposedly going to help us all out by taking the City's attention off of the Guild. Heimart threw Us under the wagon wheels when things started getting rough with the onset of War, and now he needs another scapegoat or a success or a distraction, if we want our reigns to be loosened." she shrugs and looks to the Maestro's door as Messandier goes inside, "That's all in Nicastro's hands now..."