Riazle Sih-Ilune the Agitator of the Cadre, Nightreaver of Thar-Eris

Role

Chapter 9

The Grand Exit:

Know when to get out. Have an escape route. Have a secondary escape route. Have
a third escape route. Know how to get out at a moment's notice. Know your team
well enough to communicate the time to flee the scene, the time to abort the
mission, or simply the time to make off with your goods. Review the security and
location section again. Now work backwards. Take the same post cautionary
measures that you did for precautionary measures. Always try to make your exit
clean and quiet, but be prepared if it needs to be murderous and noisy.


Be Prepared:

Before launching into action you must make sure you are prepared. Do your
research in all the above areas and then some. Keep your bribed persons happy.
Keep your lockpicking skills practiced. Have the right companions at your side,
ones you can trust. Make sure your disguises are flawless. Forge the right
documents, art, etc. Prepare all the right poisons, sharpen your weapons, stay
in good physical condition. Make sure everyone knows every detail of the plan,
inside and out. Keep your eye on the prize, do not be distracted by other loot.
Do not change your plans during the event itself unless you absolutely must.
Adapt and overcome when necessary. Know when to cut your losses. Have a plan
ready to fence your goods or complete your contracts immediately, or simply
enjoy your loot at your own leisure upon successful completion of whatever
you've schemed, swindled, stolen, or taken.

Role

Chapter 8

Security Measures:

What specific interventions were intentionally put in your path to prevent
exactly what it is you are trying to do? The best capers bypass all forms of
security. Security is the only thing standing between you and a clean getaway.
Knowing what you are up against is the biggest part in the success of this
entire process and I cannot stress enough your knowledge of all security
measures must be perfect.

Guards - Obviously patrolling guards can make an area or location seem secure.
These are the most easily avoided, incapacitated, killed. Please note that not
all guards patrol, some hide in the shadows and simply watch. During my time in
the Underdark pulling sentry duty for the House of Misfortune's Hoard I spent
hours upon hours inside a drow sized crevice carved specifically for that
person. I was completely invisible to all passerby's be they natural or
intrusive. Please note spirits, ghosts, etc can be coaxed through magic to guard
various places. Please be aware of guard animals as well. I have seen a trained
ferret that alerted it's owners of intrusion.

Magic - One of the most challenging security measures to face. One of the
biggest counter measures to magical security is employing a more powerful mage
than the one that is in charge of guarding your prize. There are also various
items and artifacts that can cancel magic in a small area for limited periods of
time. This is not my strong suit and I cannot begin to cover all the various
magical security measures, perhaps one of you can update this section one day.
Employ a powerful mage is the only thing I can recommend.

Physical Barriers - Doors. Windows. Locks. Chests. Caravan Wagons. Gates.
Fences. Walls. Motes. Figure out how to overcome the physical barriers including
picking locks or breaking them.

Persons of Interest:

These are the individuals you are going to swindle. Also those who are close to
them. You must know everything about your persons of interest. Their routines,
their history, what they eat to break their fast, for dinner. What drinks they
like, what fashion they prefer. Who they spend time with. Where have they been?
Where are they going? Likes? Dislikes? Are they allergic to anything? Would
anyone notice if they're missing? How long would that take? What martial
training do they have? What magical training, what priestly training? What
talents in general? For this information gathering you are going to need someone
on the inside who is close to the persons of interest. This can be you in
disguise, you as yourself, or you bribing somebody else who is already close to
them. What is the best way to extract information? Threats? Kill them? Torture?
Do not rush through the process of getting to know your persons of interest.

Role

Chapter 7

The shelves in my dearest Marvel's collection are empty. I intend to start
remedying that specifically with a few journal entries that perhaps one day
might be added in a more formal capacity.

My time spent at the House of Misfortune's Hoard was not ALL drudgery and
stagnant guard duty. At times we spent our hours in camaraderie plotting and
planning various robberies, heists, rip-offs, schemes, however you wish to call
it. The conversations all had a similar ring to them, basic themes. In this
journal I am not covering basic stab and grabs, I intend to write on more
elaborate plans and how to formulate them properly.

All drowish schemes came down to the same basic format during planning with the
subjects as follows.

The Loot:

What is the prize to be acquired? This is the most important question. You must
know everything about that which you're seeking, everything possible for you to
know. Every item will have it's own history, it's own list of owners past and
current. The value and importance of the loot will determine everything about
the rest of the planning. Some examples of loot can be as follows.

Rare Artifacts - Unique Books, Scrolls, Tomes, magical items, anything rare or
unique.

Art - Joihe herself made her presence known to the world by swiping a prized
painting of Twist from the Celestial Lyceum. Paintings, statues, figurines,
ornamental weapons or armor, tapestries. Art can often be imitated with
forgeries.

Jewels - Gems, rings, time pieces, necklaces, broaches, hairpins, any body
ornament.

Information - Rumors, Diaries, Letters, Records, Journals

Slaves - Self explanatory, but let us not forget the value of the collective. In
drow society slaves play an integral role. In Thar-Eris, not as much. I do not
condone slavery as loot unless the object is freedom.

Commodities - Rothe, fish, crops, wool, cotton, big picture items used in a much
broader setting. Many cursed cities were founded upon land itself being swindled
from one person or another.

Lastly weapons and armor, legendary and historical, magical and unique at times.
There is much personal value to weapons and armor.



The Location:

When planning a caper you must know everything about the location. This includes
the areas the prize is directly located in as well as the surrounding
environment. Include the time of day in your location as details of your
location will change many times throughout the day time and evening. Guards will
change their shifts, light will hit differently, and of course the best hiding
spots are in the shadows. Many businesses have owners living directly above
them, what is your distance to the local city guard headquarters? Is the
location on a patrol route? Are their significant natural barriers that may
hinder entry or exit? How high are entry and exit points? What tools will you
need to bring to gain these heights? Location gives information towards
the next category...

Role

Chapter 6

His conversation with her was pleasant enough though he doesn't remember exactly
what he said as for some reason he was quite distracted. No, I will recall it as
it was, he was nervous. He put on a face of confidence and pushed forward all
the same. He spoke of his passions, his history, what led him to her
specifically, his desire to spread his new found passions to his new found civil
friends in the cities. He was hoping that by agreeing to spread aspects of her
faith to the masses she would realize quickly that their fates were intertwined
and his views were in line with hers. He remembers the promises he made to
himself in the Underdark well and they guide his actions. Keep moving and
shaking things up for himself. Avoid stagnation and a life of dullery. Move and
shake things up for others even if he makes himself the anti-hero of the
surface. For is an anti-hero not as inspirational as a hero, just on the
opposite end of the spectrum?

He heard of a great Tree, a refuge for castaways like himself that refused to
conform to civility. They even did things like shun the use of coins. He
realized that their history was the history of the world, the entirety of Thera.
It brought him back to his ominous visions of imprisoned Ancients, as they are
called here. He felt that his divine power had intentionally led him on this
specific path, to the faith of Joihe, to the Refuge of the Outlanders.
Thar-Eris, the great world was called after it was formed. The goal of the
Outlanders was to restore Thar-Eris. He knew by freeing the imprisoned Ancients
Thar-Eris could be restored and the world could have a bit of a reset, a washing
away of the rules and the conformity, the stagnation and the living dead. He
felt this was in line with his agreements with Joihe, so he pledged himself and
was quickly accepted. He found the Nightreaver Mastra to be simple of mind and
purpose, but wise enough to see quickly see his value.

And so we come to the Adventure itself. He wishes to find himself closer to
Joihe that he could more easily wield her power. Entertainer. That is one
reputation he did not seek. To have people of the world asking him if he was to
be a Herald of the Eternal Star only to have to explain away that no, his aim
was destruction of all things civil not entertainment. Yet he will carry on with
whatever reputation she desires so long as it brings him closer to her inner
circle. Her 'Cadre'. The best of the best. And what is his place in her Cadre?
He is to figure that out. Yet he already knows he will be her right hand in it.
To wield her power, her magics, her great and vast magical artifacts and
weaponry. To wield other members of the Cadre to further his and her own goals
while being ALIVE and seeking new thrills, things, and adventures.

Role

Chapter 5

He cursed to himself as he swung down the ropey vine and into the rushing water.
Leap of faith they said. His sources at least hadn't been wrong, and there was
for suredly a certain rush to be felt leaping towards a watery death. He once
again gave a small thanks to accurate information as his feet hit the ground
before him.

It was fairly simple looking from the outside and he walked in with confidence.
Immediately he felt the presense of magic even greater, tendrils of pure mana
licked at his skin in an oddly intimate way as he wandered the empty dwelling.
He entered a room that was covered in so many maps of unknown places and worlds
that he wasn't certain if they existed in reality or were just artist
renderings. There were empty spots for adventure journals that he wished had
been a bit fuller. His life on the surface hadn't exactly been easy thus far,
but he isn't one to not come out on top of situations and he was making a fair
go of it. Udgaard, Galadon, Hamsah Mu'tazz...they all had the same feel to him.
Overcrowded places devoid of life, true life. The life of the living is not to
be confused with what the stagnant sheep of the city do as they do the same
thing day after day after day. His hatred of these places compounded greatly at
the horrid and rude ways in which he was treated. He was cussed at, spit on, and
disrespected in all sorts of ways by the mostly human population. Growing up he
had always heard humans were soft mannered and ripe for the plucking. Not so
with the manners.

He snapped out of his reverie and moved on to a different room, vowing to come
back to the map collection and potentially adding to it. The next room he began
to explore completely overwhelmed him. There was...wealth. Not just riches. Not
just treasure. Gold, silver, gems, artifacts, LEGENDARY magical artifacts at
that. His eyes likely doubled in size as he wandered around observing the space.
He was careful not to touch anything. The mana and energies had been following
him around since he entered, but especially here he felt the pure energy humming
beneath his feet as if the ground was going to explode upwards should he make
the wrong movements. Best not to tempt fate for now. He pulled himself away from
the hoard and went out back to a burning camp fire where his future goddess
awaited.

And there she was awaiting him by the fire. He felt her even before he began to
walk near her. Magical energies hummed from her body and washed over him, much
like the mana inside the building behind him but far more directly centered
around the divine creature before him. She was tall, though a little shorter
than he. She was lean but not too skinny. Her appearance and overall look wasn't
displeasing. She had a large tattoo sparkling down the right side of her face
like twinkling stars. The power he continued to feel began to remind him why he
was here, to take part of that power for himself and use it how he pleased.

Role

Chapter 4

'He's coming around, lucky bastard. I still don't know how he knew they were
flanking us from the fields. Look at his eyes, you can see them taking root in
there. He isn't long for the world if he doesn't get into some sunlight.'

He was blind. He was hungry. His mind wasn't his own. He heard but not with his
ears. His ears felt full of spikes. The spikes listened and he heard through
them. He was paralyzed. He didn't like this. He went back to sleep.

Another scene of creation. This time the sky. A great dragon breathing fires of
creation. Forming planets. Stars. Suddenly trapped in a great rock of living
stone. Imprisoned.

Blinding light. He was a worm. No. He was a bat. No. Terror. Burning. This must
be holy fire. 'Aye just keep him fed until he comes around. He'll either live or
die. We owe him this much. Tell him keep to the surface for at least a year if
he wants the spores fully gone.'

And so it was fate would put Riazle on the surface to bask and burn in the
beauty of the sun. He was left with enough coin to get by. But upon recovering
his wits he began to spend less and less time in the disgusting city of Udgaard
Loke. Too crowded, no room to distance from anyone else. It reminded him of the
business of Teth Azeleth without the cavernous surrounding.

He did spend enough time in the shaman guild to finish out the basics of his
clerical training. Now he lives with the knowledge of various prayers he could
grow into, a disgust of the rules and overpopulation of civility (especially now
that he is actively being treated with the disdain of the dark-elf race by all
on the surface), a commitment to himself to never be bored again and live life
with vigor, spirit, and passion. He has a hunger for artifacts and treasures he
was denied and swears to never be obligated to another for employment or coin.
He has random visions from the spores living inside his head that will impact
his future in the form of great gods trapped in prisons seeking freedom that
only he has seen. He is bound to the surface and knows the spores will
eventually be burned away by the sun but he doesn't tie this to his visions. In
short he has an open and adventurous future ahead of him.

Role

Chapter 3

Memory failed him. His brain was replaced by an urge to feed, a primal hunger.
He felt his body change and grow. His fingers turned to jelly and floated
through the darkness around him, detaching from his body. He grew larger and
larger, his limbs turned to serpents and slithered away. His eyes fell to the
ground and bounced like rubber projectiles all around the cavern until they
began to swirl faster than his brain could follow around his head like a halo.
His body elongated then. It grew great scales. He grew fangs the size of giants,
three rattles sprang from his tail. Their shaking quaked the earth around him.
Lava spewed from the ground and he noticed he was under the stars. He had a
great hunger, he wanted to devour. He was a creator, a god. He dove beneath the
surface of the world, he swam through the stone and magma like a great worm. He
devoured stone. He curled, he made great caverns. Devour. Create. Deeper.
Devour. Create. One of his rattles detached. It hissed and bubbled and birthed
the first cavefishers and other underdark predators. Devour. Create. Up. Up.
Water. The ocean drained. Too far. Dig. Devour. Water rushed around him from
above. He curled in circles, he made a vast bowl to catch the water. The
Underdark Sea was created. A second piece of rattle broke away, it dissolved
away, each hissing bubble transforming into a new sea creature to swim the
darkness. Dig. Devour. Create. Deeper. Deeper. Too deep. An abyss of emptiness.
A place not of the world he knew. Demons. Great shackles of adamantite. Pierced
through his mouth. Through his tail. Weighted down by great magics. Imprisoned.
Sleep now.

Role

Chapter 2

Riazle had a great knack for self preservation. In fact, it is what led him to
The House of Misfortune's Hoard. He himself was a very low born male in a lesser
house of Teth Azeleth. He loathed the games they played as much as he loathed
being at the bottom of the ebony totem pole. Such rigid structure where nobody
is even given a singular chance to rise based on the merit of their character,
on the skills and talents they bring to the house as a whole. He swore if he was
ever given the opportunity to escape the life of mundane society he'd never take
it for granted. And so on the fateful day of him guarding some high faluting
priestess as an advanced scout to her entourage, as they were overrun by
brigands, he didn't even lift a finger in her defense. He joined the brigands.

Riazle, his self preservation, his twice sworn oaths to moving, shaking, and
freedom, they all were presented with a golden opportunity for a new life. It
came in the form of the fall of the House of Misfortune's Hoard. Luckily the
raid upon the house came while Riazle was mercifully NOT at sentry duty. He was
drinking and throwing knives at a wall with his fellow outcasts. He heard the
telepathic cry to go to arms for the defense of the house, and he moved to
gather his crossbow and take his position on the walls. As he was moving to
follow orders, he crossed the vault room where his leadership was pulling out
various weapons, treasures, and enchanted armors. Yet he noticed they were in no
hurry to defend. They were going through the vault taking the things they
considered the most valuable. He knew he was about to get left to die in the
House of Misfortune's Hoard.

He took the opportunity to head out back. He had seen on two occasions senior
members of the House go into the fields of fungoid doom. And so he moved to
abandon his life once more, he entered the fungus. He immediately had the most
life changing, trippy, out of body experience he'd ever imagined. Oops.

Role

Chapter 1

Sentry duty. Always sentry duty. He was a minor gear in a great defensive cog of
a rogue merchant House in the Underdark. The position of the House of
Misfortune's Hoard, as it is known to the residents, is a very defendable one.
Behind the small fortress nestled up closely are vast fields of spores and
mushrooms that no sane creature would willingly enter. It is said there are
escape paths that the veterans of the house know, but Riazle Sih-Ilune was not
privy to such information.

His stomach growled with hunger and his eyes opened. He didn't like moving when
it wasn't absolutely necessary but he also didn't want to become a meal because
of his own lack thereof. He slowly opened up a small pouch and began to nibble
on lizard jerky. It was mostly tasteless, but more importantly it had no odor.
Smells traveled even further than sound in the vast warrens of the Underdark and
his position was furthest away from Misfortune's Hoard.

His duties were simple. He had been taught the bare minimum of clerical skills
to aid with any creatures or roaming drow scouts passing by. He was to not
engage or come out of concealment, but to commune a blinding prayer and send a
plume of fairie fire south towards Misfortune's Hoard where it would be picked
up by the next sentry and passed back until the house proper knew there was an
issue. Any deviation from this process would result in harsh punishment. The
only break from the dull task of watching and waiting would come in the form of
groups going in and out of the house carrying, via slaves, great chests of
pilfered or traded goods. One had know way of knowing which was which. Often his
imagination would run away with him as he waited.

Riazle had far too much free time to sit and think about things he would rather
be doing. Participating in raids upon caravans fat with gold, mercenary work
that Misfortune's Hoard was sometimes hired out for, simple robberies,
pilfering, shenanigans, anything other than watching his hair grow as he sat in
the dark crack of a side cave. Always waiting, always watching. In silence.
Forever. He swore if he ever got out of this life he'd be out *doing* things.

Immortal Comments

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