Trickster or fool?

[Adara Mathias]

(( Cassandra’s Cottage – Willow Weed River )) 

To say that Cassandra was surprised by the invitation was an understatement. It was next to impossible to realize just what was simmering beneath the velveteen flesh of the witch; let alone understand what her true intentions were. That was why, at first, she considered the invitation nothing short of a trap. It was the courier that received the brunt of this mistrust and it was not long after his arrival and the placement of the message into her fingers that he found himself trussed up like a chicken on market day. He was hung upside down by a hook through his foot in a shed at the back of her cottage. His blood was dripping upon the ground, congealing with the wood chippings and remnants of herb and plant cuttings. There was a pungent smell upon the air, which was making the poor fellow turn a strange sort of yellow.   

“What do you think, Apex? Is he a trickster, come to entrap me?” Apex did not seem to care one way or another; he was much more interested in the pools of crimson congealment at the head of the courier. “Or perhaps this is a test by the authorities? Mmm, I will not be strung up again!” The very thought made the wounds at her wrist start to ache. It was psychosomatic, they did not really hurt anymore, it had been hundreds of years since the fire but it was the only wound that still bothered her. Not that she would ever let that fear find the light of day. Despite her paranoia, she was silently intrigued by an organization which proposed such dealings. If such an organization existed, she imaged it would be amusing to watch it slowly crumble from the inside… from all the in-fighting, conniving and general betrayal of each member towards the other. 

Cassandra let out a long sigh and soon, after a motion of her head, the hook was removed from the messenger’s foot by ghostly hands and dropped to the ground, unceremoniously. It was a pathetic sight, watching the man curl up on the ground in the foetal position. “Well, if you are the sort of creature this place employs… I do not have high hopes. Apex, have at him but I want his eyes.” Eyes were her pleasure plus, she wanted to make sure that whoever had sent this message realized that she did not appreciate people just appearing at her cottage door with damning evidence of her ... leanings.  

(( Time-lapse – Navahla, Sarkotos )) 

It was not unusual for Cassandra to take on the guise of a crone when she was traveling between places. It allowed her to get away with things that she generally would not otherwise. There was a thing about respect and elders amongst those that cared about things, she supposed. That was why she drew up to the chapter house entrance hunched over, with her walking stick pressed firmly against the cobbled stone of the street. Apex was sat diligently upon her shoulder, the red of his eyes a glow in the dark of the night. The distinctive trait was also Cassandra’s ‘curse’ and those that were unlucky enough to get close enough to see into the shadow of her cloak would see the same shade of red in her eye. Fortunately, there were none around to try such a thing and so with her invitation and her reply, which was a small black velvet drawstring back with a nice pair of recently removed eyes inside, she knocked upon the door with the end of her walking stick.  

Whoever answered the door was going to have some questions to answer. 

[Rhyldrin Ken'rae]

The Guild Master had informed Evelyn of the possibility of an influx of members due to the recent recruiting campaign. As such she knew to expect a wide array of individuals. While she had come to the surface with Nefarious Works she hadn't always been a citizen of the underdark. She knew the various personalities, even in the same family of the same race, that could exist. She had seen handsome males and beautiful females thus far, though, none had been so civil as to knock up to this point. At the time of the knock she was reading a scroll, a response from another individual that NW had reached out to, and the echoing sound caught her off guard ever so slightly. Nonmembers were surely unlikely to knock and the fact that the probability it was a member knocking was rather high brought a small frown to her face. Not that anyone else would be allowed to see such a horrid expression appear on the surface of such stunning beauty. It was quickly erased while she stood from her desk. A glance was made to an unseen point but she still continued down the hallway toward the door.

Upon opening the door her gaze would start out where she assumed the individual would be standing, however, that proved incorrect as soon her eyes were lowering their target to the hunched over crone. Now this was just ridiculous! Evelyn knew age meant little when it came to power but surely the guild master didn't send an invitation to a walking skeleton with some skin left on her bones! She may be powerful but certainly by the time she managed to get up the first flight of stairs, let alone a wall, the whole quest would be completed and everyone would be back at headquarters divvying up the loot. She almost felt sorry for the woman at that moment, almost. Or perhaps the woman simply was lost, or was begging, and hadn't received an invite. Yes it was true the elderly were cared for by those of the nicer variety, and even in some rare cases the less than nice variety, Evelyn was polite but hardly friendly. 

"Sorry, not interested."

She then went to close the door though it was doubtful such would be allowed.