Recruiting the Core Twelve of Vortex (Open but please PM first, Kalinda)

[Aradin Lastra]

Timestamp: 2nd of Ponutis, Spring of Era XIV PF

The Guild Underground was rebuilding its forces, but this time it was taking its operations Empire-wide and Arium was the beginning of it all. In the last month he had undergone extensive efforts to recruit and establish the GU in Paxia. In Ponutis he would largely devote himself to the establishment of the core twelve in Vortex. He expected it to be somewhat easier to find people who would be willing to join an organization of suberterfuge in Vortex, but then he also expected it to be much more difficult to trust them.

Vortex, well suited for his purposes, was a den of evil first and foremost in his mind. It was full of deceit and betrayal. Aradin was sure that one would be hard pressed to find a single honesty and decent person in the dark city. Why the Empire never bothered trying to do anything to clean the place up he didn't know - but nevertheless, it would be to his advantage now. Vortex, in combination with Paxia and Mileswick would serve as a base in Arium from which to strike at the House of Whispers in Nexus Prime, and perhaps to eventually even dethrone Jenius De Marchant.

Aradin skulked in a dark alley that had a dead end, his green cloak wrapped around him and his hood pulled over his head. Even if the hood fell back all that would be seen was his black iron mask. Under his cloak Aradin held his dagger that was covered in sleeping poison. All it took was a nick and it would cause it's victim to pass out relatively quickly. On his right hip his scimitar was sheathed.

Whenever sufficiently rich, hardened, or shifty looking individuals would pass by Aradin would step out of the shadows of the alley and say, "Might we interest you in a life of subterfuge? We can help you get thing and achieve things that you wouldn't otherwise be able to have, all you have to do is help us in return."

OOC: For convienience sake all those who post please assume you come at different times.

[Kalinda]

Oh, there were a few honest and decent people in Vortex. The hobbit that ran the clothes shop was nice. The former aedile, Minhiriath, had been a truly good person – before she had been murdered. After that she had just been dead. A lot of the common citizens of Vortex would not attract too much attention in another part of the Empire. They had unique views of necromancy, the Aeternian gods and the dark races, but they were decent enough, nice, helpful, polite. Actually there were more than just a few honest people here, the problem was that there were thousands of not so honest people that gathered in Har’oloth and the Southern Quarter, the corrupt constables, the many prefects that had happily accepted bribes from Vortex’ underworld.

The houses that were all around Aradin were made of black and dark grey stone, appropriate for such a dark city, surrounded by black metal fences. The alley was not only dark, it was also dirty. Somebody had dumped his garbage there. It wasn’t the best part of the city – or the richest, but it was perfect for what he intended.

Not a lot of people passed Aradin. People seemed to avoid this dark alley. No, it wasn’t entirely true, they just didn’t get too close as there wasn’t anything of interest there. The first two people came after several minutes had already passed. One of them was a man, a human, a bit overweight, but not so much that it was unhealthy or would hinder him in any way, just enough to show that he had enough to eat. He was dressed in a fur coat, expensive and warm. The Vortexian spring was harsh at best. This man was dark haired with a small mustache.

His companion was a woman, her grey skin marking her as half vysstichi and her revealing red dress as something else. She practically clung to his arm, not out of fear because they were walking past a dark alley, but rather out of a feeling of possessiveness. She carried a knife and he a sword. They were the opposite of scared, confident, fearless – and greedy as it seemed.

As she heard Aradin’s voice, the woman’s full, pretty lips twisted into a not so pretty smile and she came closer. “Things that we wouldn’t be able to have otherwise? Please tell us more. We are always interested in such tempting offers.”

[Dimitri Wladisyaw]

It was fitting the Duke of Vortex was also the worst of the lot. It was also never easy to sneak up on him. Dimitri rarely walked the streets of the city but today was an exception, softly he moved with two humn soldiers in plain garb behind him. He looked about from within his black robe making sure no Imperial aligned citizens or soldiers were neaby or if they were they did not recognise him.

A hand would come on Aradin's shoulder as soon as he spoke his words, dark elves followed their Duke always and never let any with weapons get too close. A dagger was pressed to his back and the wiry elven hand remained upon his shoulder, Dimitri could only smile but still he was interested and waved away his guard quickly, "I can acheive anything in this city wanderer, I have slaves, gold, power and soldiers. You are but one man, perhaps you should tell me your offer, I always like to hear out my people." He grinned and his guards moved before him making sure no attacks could befall him for now.

[Johan Riketz]

Another night of rigorous training marked Johan easily, his vibrant ebony tones covered in sweat reflecting the rays of the moon off onyx-laquered skin. Tight, black leather pants bit into Johan's lower-leg at the ankle beneath his like-colored boots. Yawning in defeat, he smirked, quite fatigued after the albeit-tiring sessions that almost always seemed to last late into the night. Pressing off his leading foot, Johan moved at an angle creating more space than usual between himself and an imaginary target. The power and distance of the great sword usually stood to compensate for speed and dexterity. Raising the blade above his head, he smirked, leveling Redemption out across his back as he grabbed his dark cloak, it hues almost completely stripping it's visibility against the smooth stone.

Making his way back from the outskirts of Vortex, the air seemed to change with such an immediacy as he breached the threshold of the damned city. Sighing deeply, even though he was free to roam with his appearance here, the Vyssie could almost feel the winds' smothering grasp clawing at his naked back. He would feel more oppressed here than anywhere he would have to cover his face. The toughest part of life these days had been keeping Shala beneath the surface where he did no damage. Rubbing his forehead, he paced himself, keeping a hand close to the sword at his naked-back and an ear to the uncaring seemingly-tumultuous streets.

Two braids of liquid-silver met at the ends, twining into each-other around the male's lower-back and with a haste unworthy of his swordsmanship, he turned only his head to address the voice of what could have been an assailant. He says nothing for a moment after listening to the mysterious-male and tightens his practiced hand over the smooth hilt of the age-old blade. "... and what makes you so sure you could promise me anything that would be of value?" Johan makes no sudden move, his lavender eyes roiling deeply with golden flakes, shifting runics singing silently in his pupils. Throbbing cooly, frigid mist rose from Redemption semi-numbing the back of his neck. He honestly didn't know what to expect, but if push came to shove, he could certainly defend himself.