Imam the Heavy-Handed Dapper Gentleman

Role

Chapter 11

Imam was born in Hamsah, not a child of a drow and a human, but of two
halfbreeds. His home was broken by a small local crime ring working through
the seaports. His father was a small time local merchant, and was intimidated
by this circle. His shops were looted, he was beaten, and paid tarriffs
regardless out of fear. Imam was kidnapped as a child and held for ransome in
a later attempt by the group to raqueteer more pay and goods from his father
for their piracy on the shores and seas. The men kept him in a room, and he
was not overly ill treated physically, a few slappings to try to find if his
father had money hidden anywhere and the like. Having watched what happened
to his family because of these men, he used what he could, deceit, to appear
frightened each time and beg for his life stating that there was nothing.

This was sorely not the case. One day the thugs, their leader among them,
came to the holding room and told Imam that his father and mother would die
if he did not tell them where a safe was. He explained a location, but said
he must lead them to it. By a stroke of luck, and to his delight, the leader
and many of the men followed him to a dark alley a few blocks from his home.
Finally, his chance to escape after an unnamed amount of days, probably a
couple of weeks. The men followed him, and lost him in the shadows. They
split up, the leader hanging back to catch a knife in the kidney, causing a
painful screech and a quick death. He carved the face of the man with two
words, 'Fear cowardice', and a note attached to the hilt scrawled quickly in
blood 'Your fate will be the same, we've seen the work you do, and its time
to move on.' The men came upon the body, surprised, and as yet another fell
from another lucky shot, but from a crossbow at a nearby roof. Thinking that
the gods or some power greater then them, the leaderless thugs disbanded
immediately, vowing to each other on the spot to not speak of this, and leave
now that their nameless leader and an ally had died without any effort.

Imam smiled darkly from his shadowy perch on the roof, throwing the crossbow
aside. His trickery had worked. His family could not know that he was a
murderer, and so he faded into obscurity, changing his last name and moving
out of the city for about thirty years. He returned to Hamsah, and joined the
thieves guild, seeking their protection, and to be a leader among them. He
pledged from that first day to never take a threat, to never falter in the
face of violence or aggression, and to strike back at those who would make
him or his own fear them with such fury that the horrible taste of the battle
and skulldugery he brought would put the same horror into whomever as he did
that day. His skill in causing fear has been honed to a needle point, and he
deceives all but those he cares about with such little effort it is
frightening.


He still watches upon his families business, but from the underground,
unknown to them as he was before. As a part of his deceit, he enlisted the
help of a transmutist to alter his appearance. Nothing really changed as far
as the pleasantness of his appearance, but he is surely unrecognizable to
anyone in all ways, save for his indomitable spirit and of course, the eyes,

Role

Chapter 10

Today I put the fear of fear itself into one of the residents of the refuge.
The wily ranger tried to cause fear with violence, attacking an ally in front
of me. The mere threat of the horrors that would come to be, with a dash of
deceit and lies, caused this outlander foe to abandon all future attacks
against a dwarf.

Fear, my favorite seasoning. Truly, a diamond of deceit in the dirt of the
bandits guild.

Role

Chapter 9

A page written late at night in Imam's journal is as follows...


I spoke to Lord Daevryn again, though this time with much more progress. In
our first meeting, I explained that I would soon rank over the King in
Hamsah, and spread my influence throughout the lands in a few short strokes.
And so I did, with a bit of hard work and blood.

We spoke of business, and of plans to come, and of victories past. Apparently
the lord enjoys hearing tales regaled of the spoils of thiefdom, and as it
turns out, I enjoy regaling them. Soon the lord of the bandits will pass, his
age making his life wane in his last years. On that day, there will be both
mourning, and celebration, as I take the reigns of this fine guild.

The talks seemed to go well, and I even gave a gift of one of the many fine
blades that I come across to the lord of the earth. He seemed pleased, as
well as pleased with my progress, as well as I. The number of those whom I've
robbed or slain grows with each passing day, and indeed I am sure in many
circles, my name gathers a lot of mention.

As a tribute to those slain with this new blade achieved in yet another
victorious combat, I've begun etching with the eldritch blade lacerations
into the back of my hand for each foe who falls eternally to the blade and my
hand. The eldritch blade seems to have its engraving for breaking the spirits
of others, although I am sure it's former owner would disagree. As of this
day, two scarrings are by this sword on my hand.

Blood will flow untill Hamsah is a shining gem of Thera. All the chests will
be loaded full of gold and treasures, and all of its members who work under
me towards this goal will be made men.

May the blessings of the lord of the earth Daevryn guide my hand.

Role

Chapter 8

A black journal is left in the coat pocket of Imam as he sleeps. He seems to
have been doing some writings, in recent times. Most of it is the status of
the guild, the status of the other organizations of Thera, and what some of
them think of him and the guild respectively. A more recent entry seems to
detail dealings with the marans.

"As it seems I have had little in the way of killing any of the light, I have
been ally to the marans by proxy for some time. Recently, I decided to test
the waters, as I tend to do, as well as the faith of those of the light, as I
also tend to do.

While murdering one of their ilk, and about to murder the second, a third
finally came as my blow struck, and sent me to the healer with a mighty blow
from the axes. After robbing me of all I own, his first words were "You have
some unfinished business with a drow". It seemed odd, and so I decided to
watch the actions of this dwarf, and see if his brawn exceeded his wit and
faith in other dealings. I offered the marans peace, in exchange for my lowly
belongings. It is of course my way to at least ask once, as I show respect to
the fallen, despite the seeming lack of respect it takes to make them that
way. And so it came to be, that the marans greed, all four of them, exceeded
their faith that day.

Of course, it is not that I blame them, being who I am. I simply wished to
teach them a lesson. And a lesson teach I did, as each of them fell within
the same day to my jack, and in turn, fell to their demise. I took only what
was mine from each of the four, and told them that this is the respect they
should show to those who are not their mortal enemies. It seems the message
held with many of them."

A break in the page and a change in the inks color signifies either a pen
change, or another day of writing. It seems the pages are not dated in this
part of the journal as they are in the sales and shipping sections of the
journal.

"On the particular name of Enarn, a transmuter who claims to be maran as
well, had robbed me a number of times as I fell, in righteous combat of
course. I took it upon myself to teach them a lesson as well. And so chance
presented itself today, as they struck centurions, Nilan and he. Enarn did
not survive our scuffle, and I left all that he posessed. I explained that I
should expect the same respect, not a permanent enemy as one who proclaims
protection of all who are not dark in their souls. He promptly Took me to the
spirit in Belator as I followed him, and let him do some of his dirty work in
response.

Moments later, His body had formed, and I had dropped his things before the
spirit where we stood, but seemingly...he had not grabbed all of them. When I
asked him to come back, he was made rigid, and beaten badly. When he fled in
the throws of combat, little but a shivering pulpy, and might I add still
looking rigid and emotionless, I came to him, and gave him his things.
Clearly, a selfless act can be the best form of deceit. As of the day of this
writing, Enarn lies betrayed again, and seeks nothing but my demise. The one
who is to lead the marans, oh how the idea pleases me of this.

The writing continues on the next page, seemingly about some tales of the
magistrates.

Role

Chapter 7

"Regarding the magistrates and the spire

It seems my dealings have always been positive, even during the enforcement
of my numerous warrants. Today, as I spoke to the magistrate Maethron of his
advancement from my city to Galadon within the spires ranks, we got again to
talking of how I had turned in more warrants than most magistrates. At least
a dozen by my count, and my count is generally poor. It was three the very
day of this writing!

A note is scribbled into the margins... 'Keep track of milestones in success
better.'

And so he suggested that the Provost be contacted. It seems that my
reputation has garnered another that is impressed enough to put what would be
my will forward without prompting. This one is not even guilded under me,
but, we have had many good dealings to keep me well into the black on his
ledgers. He spoke to the Provost on his own, and stated that it would be a
strict secret between him, myself, and the Provost. The Provost agreed to
take coins from the coffers of the spire, and to give them to me for warrants
returned. Clearly I shall have to discuss some advanced payments, as my track
record is already thick with the blood of criminals. No matter, it seems I am
secretly contracted with ranking members of the spire now. A suggestion I
made, as an advance payment or a later payment for a particularly 'difficult'
criminal would be to remove some of my old warrants from the record.

Imagine my delight, being a step or two from a hardened criminal, and yet
having the strength of presence to gain commission from the spire. Praise to
the lord of the earth for my chicanery today, as it gains even more wealth
for an already immensely wealthy man. And rightly so, I say. It seems all
within the spire save maybe one or two would hold themselves as my ally, and
yet I hold no allegience to them whatsoever. In fact, I'm nearly an enemy not
to be spoken of in their books.

It seems my way of respecting my guild elders has paid off, as the Provost
was formerly the Bandit King, before his timely demise at the hands of the
lords of time. As such, I played into it, stating that I had worked with the
spire before, and would make a strong asset as the Bandit King did. Hopefully
the protection would extend to even my thieves, at least to the moment before
they struck at a magistrate. That is really all I could hope for, the
advantage of the first strike."

A break in the page is titled 'A funny story' and it seems to go on the trail
of where the writing just was.

"A day ago, the thief Taytum of the bandits was attacked by a duergar, within
the city walls of Hamsah. Clearly unforgiveable, but I decided on a whim of a
possible deceit to deal with this one. He came to the guild, and when he was
explained that attacking guild members, the guard, and stepping foot with in
is a trespass against all of us, he seemed not to care. The negotiations went
on for hours. I explained to him my stance on the thieves in truth, that I
will stop fighting between them and those that can harm them. I told him that
being a duergar was his card of kings, and that the conversation would not
even take place could he not see my thieves. He seemed to agree whole
heartedly, and we came to the agreement that he would not attack my thieves
unless they a

Role

Chapter 6

A handsome dark skinned man is here, inconspicuously dressed in drab colors,
and silks of the deserts. At first glance, he appears like any other peasant
or laborer, his hands rough and calloused, a bit of dirt here and there on
his knees and elbows. First appearances, are of course, fleeting... A very
sharp blade, a black sap, and a coil of rope are visible dangling from his
belt. Clearly the working appearance of this man is due to his dealings in
the underground, or other devious happenings. His hair is mostly black, but
has quite a bit of white as well. A small goatee of pure white hair, and a
waxed moustache grace the visage of this handsome half-drow. On his hand are
two strange magical burns charred into the back of his hand. They are clearly
of a magical origin, and clearly must signify something.

Role

Chapter 5

And so my last warrant was finally turned in, but the circumstances of the
warrant are far more amusing to this thief. Many lessons learned, only one by
me: lieing to an immortal lich can prove difficult. The rest of the lessons I
knew when I began to teach them to this one particular spireling.

Another day in the city of Galadon, I stopped into the spire to check on
things, some fire giant walking in, perhaps an outlander, some easy
distracted prey. None but the fire giant Derntas. I offer a greeting to the
giant whom I do not recognize, and am greeted with the threat of a warrant.

And I think to myself, a magistrate of the fine city of Hamsah Mu'tazz being
so rude to one who is ever so helpful to the spire when it benefits my needs
mutually. And so, a short few hours later, the giant makes his way on foot to
Hamsah, puts his big old polearm on before he reaches the gate, and waits for
me.

How amusing, the lack of common sense, not only attacking at the gates of a
city you are charged to protect, but attacking one of its oldest denizens.
And so, I lured the giant around the two exits of the city for a while,
amusing myself greatly. Many threats came my way as I taunted him, and
gradually the giant tried to beckon me into an open fight.

...As if!

I informed the giant that someone with such pitiful strength in their duty,
and who is so rude to a citizen of his city of charge, would not be attacked
when he was prepared, or expecting it. And so, days passed, and the
magistrate waited in and out of the city, eventually going on to do other
things...and I waited, as I tend to do, for the right moment.

Days pass, and the giant comes to stand before the healer, bleeding badly
from arterial wounds as I watch him, and also, wielding his maces instead of
polearms. The last mistake he would make. His weakness was not only bad
timing, but, assuming that 'when you don't expect it' meant that I would do
it outside of the city. This giant perhaps learn a few lessons today, among
them not to doubt when I speak to him directly. I have not once in my day
been known to threaten and not come through.

And so, the blackjack fell, but a bit to the right on his collar bone, and
for the giant it was not enough to tap him out. He seemed to wanted to stay
for the fight, despite his condition. I obliged, sending him hurling to the
ground in tandem with his attempts to do the same to me, and shortly after,
the strength of the bandits proved itself again.

There were five witnesses to this crime, and all of them not only
congratulated me, but promised to deny all knowledge of this crime. And so,
an opportunity for a fun deceit arose as well from this display of truth. The
magistrate, and long standing ally as a thief, Maethron, informed me that
this giant had put out a warrant for me. Many long long stories came from me,
and I would contest to this day that the Provost would not have warranted me,
were the victim not a magistrate. The deceit was clear and flawless,
unfortunately the way the laws are written, there is no opportunity.

The thief had heard that the giant had been pestering me at the border of my
city, and so his motive for a false warrant was apparent. For some reason, no
witnesses would come against the bandit w

Role

Chapter 4

I am King now, and the guild is pleased. Business goes extremely well in all
areas, save for talks with my Lord, Daevryn. No matter, all pieces fall into
place for those who strive to achieve as much as I. In fact, the appointment
to this title was a long time coming, I had passed our previous king and was
unable to be surpassed again by him at about thirty six titles in the guild
of thieves. I stand with donations greater than all of the other thieves in
the guild, and by quite a healthy amount as well.

My first order of business is to do away with thieves like many who I have
seen come and go, those who are not useful to the guild. A guild is as much a
choice in life as anything else, be it career, or an organization to join. I
have chosen to join only this guild for a reason, it is my home, and I can
watch all happenings here in wealth, with a position of respect in an
identity that is my own creation. All thieves and shadows are friend to me as
of this writing, and so I am respected throughout the land with them.

Just the other eve, two thieves were spoken to, and both were given a duty:
Donate. The guild needs to be stronger, to shine like a bright diamond as I
do. All thieves that I speak to will now seek my throne, as it is what they
should do. Apparently this knowledge has been forgotten over our last few
leaders, and so I seek to bring it back.

The two thieves donated as I spoke to them, and I gave them coin to buffer
the guilds coffers. When the amount of their entry, what they donated as I
spoke, and my donation in their name was totalled, I asked them then to
double it as their next goal. Lord Daevryn taught me that goals are what
drives one forward to success. I had goals before I spoke to him, and so I
was successful in my endeavors. Now these two thieves, previously witless,
are armed with some advice from their king, and a will to fulfill it. They
both say that they will try and be the next King of Bandits.

And so they did, doubling their donations before I next woke. I am pleased
with many of the thieves in Hamsah. Though I enjoy the company of all
thieves, the likes of the Galadon guild, our only competition, will surely be
shuddering at the force of our bandits in no time at all.

But a fraction of what they must do, but apparently the voice of a named King
has the power to inspire. I shall use this position to benefit myself, and
all who call this shady guild under the Sultan home. I shall be sure to be
penning missives if I cannot contact all of our thieves, but the coffers
shall rise as do our number of members, and active members more importantly.
Another fine day in the City of Bandits.

Role

Chapter 3

The code thus far has been never to harm a woman. I have made the mistake of
knocking one or two out in my day, and even mistaking some for men, but none
were ever killed, and all were set free and befriended. I have a wondrous
appreciation for all of the fine things in this world, and therefore the
finer of all species must be only for my intrigue and pleasure, and not for
the pleasure of murder.

I do not fight those outmatched already, and in instances where more than one
or two combatants face another, I am the balancer. This is my service to the
balance, and to my will. I will not watch as others bully around the helpless
to defend themselves.

I will kill anyone who I have not met that is not a woman, and it is nothing
personal of course. I am a pure bandit at heart, little did my kidnappers of
over a century ago know. I seek to perfect my art, and fill the guild chests
with gold and treasures untold.

The life of an adventurer is deadly for all. For why did they choose to be a
warrior, an invoker of arcane destruction, and so on? Because the life of a
farmer did not present the risk they desired. It is quite unfortunate that
many forget this, and none, even I, are free from death.

I try to show as much respect as a kidnapper can, and even have set free the
occassional who is useful alive, or not as an enemy. Fear has an amazing
power to convert the most hardened evil man into someone who submits that a
bit of respect and honor is deserved even when you are a dealer of death.

I had once rarely killed those of the light, untill I discovered that their
trustworthiness is outweighed by their lack of faith in their own word,
religeon, or duty, whatever the case be. Testing the waters with a bit of
pain is a good way to discover this. It is still often that I rob and not
kill the children of the sun, but they too chose a life as I did, it is not
for me to be any less of a force.

I have never hesitated, never wimped out in a fight in my life, and have only
retreated for tactics of failing a strike. Hesitation has only been to
observe for a right moment, perhaps a shapeshifter giving me something more
to rob than fleas or more to tie than wings or scales, or perhaps just a
moment where they may not be paying attention to their surroundings.

Some perceive my lack of hesitation as suicidal, but...we all die one day. It
is not for me to decide, and hesitation is a waste of already short life.
This above all has come true and obvious most in my old age.

Role

Chapter 2

And so it came to pass, another threat to my code was witnessed. Three
magistrates sprung from their shelter in the spire, flying, phasing through
the dimensions, and with an Imperial Black in tow, to the sight of a criminal
on the eastern road. The dwarf Armonk did run screaming down the road, as
first the black, and then an osprey, and suddenly from another dimention,
Izuhlzin sprung a neurological blasting.

From the shadows, only silence. Izuhlzin was struck on his head, and silenced
with a dirty rag in his mouth. The word had been given by he or the
patrolmen, and so I waited, intent on that fact. An osprey landed, at the
time the Justicar of all of the lawful lands of Thera. He sent his
incapacitated comrade of lighter pockets home, reverting to an easier-to-bind
form, that of Iukulli.

Again, a dull thud was the only harbinger of a swift bringing of nightmares.
The Justicar was thoroughly tied, his wands taken, and left for whatever fate
would await him as he lay unconscious on a main road.

As he returned to his home, he issued one of my favorite things these days in
my old age, threats. As the many long-dead magistrates before him had done,
"You will not be safe outside the walls of a city." Indeed, most of the time
I took this to the next level, for it was not I who was ever bound not to
strike my opponents in the city. But this time, something tugged at me.
Perhaps the collection of my favored blade had brought more favor as it had
done in the past...and as in the past, the only spirits broken are those of
my enemies.

....how lovely this blade is....

For days I stood on the road, at first a distance from the city with a means
of escape handy from this well magically protected bird, so eager to abuse
his ability to see me. And then, it hit me... And so I began to wander close
to the city, even eluding to the fact that I had been on the road for a time,
knowing he watched from above, and prepared to dive at any moment. Since my
first meeting, he had become much, much more difficult to incapacitate, and
so I moved on to stabbing in all of its various forms. Anything to provoke
more of a fight, and to provoke either a mistake, or rage and madness.

Days had passed, closer and closer to the city I crept, from the piers in
Hamsah, to the outskirts of Galadon. Just today, opportunity presented
itself. As I spread dissent over the days to the magistrates who had never
been stupid enough to threaten a King, I passed to them that I would not
break laws during this wretched abuse of power, and that there were specific
men corrupt within the spire. It seemed to be working, and all said they
would be on the watch for these suspected turn-coats.

And as if a gift, the wanted man Golhyrr, the Relentless Persuer of Magi ran
from his village to the east road. I warned the first Vindicator, Pissudin,
of his location. More favor to an organization I do not subscribe to. And as
he made it closer to Galadon, I watched the fight, even followed the shadow
of this magehunter. The eagle landed, and shifted to a vicious tiger,
pouncing on Golhyrr after being stunned and knocked out several times, and on
he pounced...into the Copeham Inn. How wicked was this, and soon, the new
Vindicator, the former Justicar, Iukulli made sight of the fight as an

Role

Chapter 1

As the magic he recieved in his youth was powerful, Imam as he is called, was
secure in their identity for some centuries. Surely not even his own mother
would recognize her son after the changes that were made. This is likely
because she only had a daughter. The name was not really important,
especially after such extensive magics fell upon her, and so she chose one
she had heard of in the home town of Hamsah Mu'tazz.

The new body afforded him many things, among the deceit of his own family to
her demise, and the registry of the city to the same end. It also gave her a
convenient excuse to not attack other women, as she had experienced such
trouble for her looks in her youth.

After two centuries, however, the deceit begins to fade. Imam, as they are
called, has turned to hiding from view a bit more. The facial hair no longer
grows, and the raised cheeks and large features have faded to reveal a much
more slender figure. She hopes only to find another transmuter who can renew
the work that was done so long ago.

None the less, business continues to go well for Imam into old age, many a
half-drow would have perished long ago, and even more so ones who have lived
such a dangerous life. Though she sought a good honorable death since youth,
they have not yet been granted such an adversary. No pity for the bandits of
Hamsah'Mutazz, the sultans most disliked and dubious members of the city
population.

The only hope regarding this deceit, is that the members of the guild will not
notice, at least before she can find a transmuter. A likely happening, such as
the history that has been made in the past, and the respect earned.

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