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Laennec Manor

Holding Dorian back was a wise move to make, as Nora's arm lurched a bit to hold the now-enraged scion back. For all the bluster he had displayed concerning his father earlier, it seemed Dorian's facade had crumbled to something resembling regret.

The Dunmer standing did not react at all to Dorian's motion, but the surrounding assassins could be heard shuffling closer. As Grelok's suggestion reached him, he smirked. "Cobbled-together leather bindings, 'groomed appearance' centered among grease, dull daggers of a glare... You must be with the Thieves Guild." he said, coming closer to Grelok and holding his tanto closer to the orc's throat.

"You guess correctly, thief; we are of the Morag Tong, and I am known as the order's grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu. The exploits of your little group has not escaped our notice, given the sacred artifacts you pursue and mishandle, but the finer details are as of yet beyond our scrutiny. We are here to determine just what the scope of your hunt is; if you face opposition as we expect, what your goals may be, how exactly you are finding the Threads of the Webspinner; and we will decide from there where we are to proceed. Now speak, for your life depends on it; what was your relationship with this man? Was he friend or foe, and why does he lie dead before us?"

Hlaalu retracted his blade from Grelok's throat, but kept it pointed as his brows perked. The air was tense, thick...

Dorian merely growled from behind Nora's arm. Another member of the party would have to speak for them.

Nora felt a half temptation to let Dorian go as the assassin neared his blade upon Grelok, whether it was for boast or intent. The other half was her just wanting to meet his cheekbone with her fist.

"Foe?! Ye be [&@%!]' daft? In front of tha't man's own kin?" She said, keeping just as much her fury in check to keep Dorian's more so "Grandmaster or so ye say, tell yer blades to pipe down o'r I'd hav'te ask em where better to shov' em" momentarily pointing at the grand assassin, and not so an idle threat even a Prince would be spared from

Arellius Afer III - Laennec Manor

The Imperial maintained a firm grip on his tanto--a sneer rising with the same vulgar pugnacity as the strike he threatened. "I'm not sure yer in much o'va place t'be askin' questions ri'now." It was emitted as a low pitched growl. His gaze darted to the dead man as if to confirm the exact reason why.

He managed a more defensive posture as his voice rose. "Perhaps y'should be tellin' us how ye came across this man 'n' we'll decide how t'proceed with you.

Ravel
"Sera..." said Ravel, holding their hands up and smiling anxiously. Ravel was smart enough to know not to anger a run of the mill member of the Morag Tong, never mind a grandmaster. But given bad blood between the Great Houses, they elected to keep their own allegiance secret for now. "I barely know these people, they're adventurers I met on the road. So I'm, I'm hardly the one to ask. Or blame, for that matter. Innocent bystander, honest." Ravel pointed at the corpse the conversation was focusing on. "And I've never seen him before in my life."

Niralie

Niralie held her breath, heart pounding fiercely enough that she was certain the others could hear it, as the Dunmer put his sword to Grelok’s throat. Grandmaster? So he’s the leader of the Morag Tong? This isn’t good...

She felt a little better when he backed away from the orc, but was horrified at Dorian, Nora, and Arellius’ responses. This wasn’t helping! She barely heard Ravel’s comment as she stared wildly around at her companions and the assassins behind them.

The Altmer turned to face the rest of her group so that she was facing sideways between the assassins and her leader, and raised her hands pleadingly, one toward the grandmaster, one toward the group behind them. Finally finding her voice (as tight as her throat felt), she looked around at her companions and the Tong members alike, and urged, “Please, there’s no need to fight!”

Eolwyn

Running into an opposing party, on what should have been a reunion of family and acquaintances, was a less than favourable scenario for the group.

Upon hearing the unsheathed blades behind them, Eolwyn made no move to do the same.

After Niralie, the Bosmer chimed in.

"Grandmaster Hlaalu. I'm sure you are aware that a coherent discussion does not come well when blades are drawn and tempers flaired. You say you are aware of our antics, and we, of some of yours. If you want all the answers that you seek, and it's true, we are seeking some of our own, then let us talk like civilized folk and not like a group of bandits on the roadside."
She raised her eyebrows in a persausive manner, and glanced at his sword.
"Fighting is a fruitless endeavour, I'm sure you'll agree."

Nora turned her focus to Dorian as the others spoke in softer tones. She switched her hold to pin him by the shoulders, and dared to look him brow to brow "Don't ye dare die a fool, I be not hav'n it. Once close breath was'z en'ough." She said trying to steady him just as much as herself. Even a slap back to his senses for good measures if she thought she wasnt getting to him. And an eager shoulder should he have need of it either

Laennec Manor

Eno raised a brow at the mention of 'kin'. "Ah, you must be the wayward scion mentioned in so many letters and missives hidden away in this place."

The threats from Nora and Arellius prompted Grandmaster Hlaalu, leader of all of the Morag Tong agents surrounding the party at the very moment, to laugh rather audaciously. "Oh, you're all quite the diplomats, aren't you? Blades all about and still all the bravado. I applaud you, and I agree with you. You did not kill this man."

Hlaalu stepped back and lowered his dagger from Grelok's throat, but did not sheathe it; neither did his company waiting in the dark. "Very well. We came to ask Lord Laennec a few questions about the Threads of the Webspinner not a few days ago. His guardsmen were easy enough to dispose of; non-lethally mind you, for we had no quarrel with them; but when we came upon the study, the Lord of the Manner lie dead just as he does now."

The dark elf paced as he examined the group standing in the doorway. "We investigated the premises of the manor and the surrounding town to gather some evidence of what could have transpired here. We have found no lead on the assailant; whoever did this covered their tracks quite well to hide from the Morag Tong; but one out-of-place detail did arise our concern. The crypts in this city have been for the greater part depleted of corpses that should otherwise lie in rest. I suspected a necromancer, and a powerful one at that, had left the body of Lord Laennec as bait for a trap, and so we awaited said assailant to return with the coerced butler on the lookout.

"We thought perhaps that you were the vanguard of the probable necromancer's return, or that one of you were the necromancer themself; the Telvaani waif, perhaps; but it is evident that you are not. That leaves us in an interesting theoretical position, especially when night falls."

Eno paused for a moment and Dorian lowered his sword, though anger still shone on his expression. "Not a drop of remorse or care for the scene of the crime, hm? My [&@%!] of a father is dead, and you seem none too bothered." Dorian interjected, his clenched hand twitching.

"Death is my business, Mr. Laennec. Were it not for the involvement of the Threads, I would have left this manor and it would have likewise left my mind entirely." Hlaalu replied, folding his hands behind his back. "Now, I've shared with you what I know, or at the very least believe to be true. Now I ask the lot of you this; if my prediction is correct, and they often are, then you are all in grave danger. Who would wish you harm, and why are they interested in the sacred relics of Mephala?"

Eolwyn

At the mention of a necromancer, Nandrnil cropped up in Eolwyn's mind for a moment.

"Have you heard of The Hollow Council?" She enquired.

Laennec Manor

Grandmaster Hlaalu looked to Eolwyn and blinked. "I must admit that this is a rare instance of my intelligence sources failing me. This 'Hollow Council' is unfamiliar to me. Are they rivals of yours?" he asked in turn.

Grelok - Laennec Manor
"Rivals of yours, as well, actually." Grelok interjected, both amused and unnerved that the Morag Tong didn't know who they were contending with. "The short version is that they're killing indiscriminately to get their hands on the Threads. And we, uh... ...we need to get them first."

Niralie - Laennec Manor

Niralie debated how much they should tell the Grandmaster. Eno’s answer about Dorian’s father and their role (or rather, lack thereof) in his murder did reassure her, but she didn’t know how the Tong members would feel about her group collecting the relics they viewed as sacred and giving them to another Daedric Prince. Grelok seemed to have decided to tell them the truth, however, and Niralie had to agree that honesty was probably the best policy here: if the fate of the world was at stake, she’d rather have the Tong as allies against the threat.

“We’re not sure what their ultimate goal is,” she put in, “but the means through which they intend to achieve it could mean a dragon break - or worse. Apparently they’ve had an omen that we can stop them - though we didn’t even know of their existence before they attacked us - so they wish to eliminate us and anyone else in their way.”

She paused as she thought again over what he’d just said. “What did you mean, ‘when night falls’?” she asked.

Nora the Fox

Nora sighed in frustration. "Aye. Let'us not beat around this already blood'd bush." She pushed her way away from the group and towards the grandmaster, prodding at him as if she had the gal of a mother or someone who chastised a Prince himself "Them Hollowed [&@%!] be no less ou'r friends as te would be any of yer's. Bunch o'f cultists up te no good, playin a dangerous game n got te wee horned Prince himself playing the dice"

"We, Windhelm, te Empire, aye even the whole of Tamriel it'self be upon their mark, an best ye too. So.." She digged around on her person, not so for her blade, no instead she grasped out a small ring, one of the threads. "Do ye plan te stop us n' make one more foe? Or do ye want'ta call it civil.." she grasped the ring beneath a fist as she held it up "Either it be, we aint stoppin' till our deed be done"

Laennec Manor

Eno gazed at Nora and Grelok with great interest. "You must understand our interest in the welfare of the Threads of the Webspinner. Their rightful place as gifts to Mephala is with her followers. To hear of any attempts to take them away from the Morag Tong, well... that would make any claimant to the Sanguine items our enemies."

He paused a bit for emphasis, and then continued. "Of course, by your telling, it seems that you seek them out of self-defense or prevention. This measures up with what our watchers have seen with you. We do not have to be your enemies; far from it, we wish to help you combat these thieves. All we ask in return is to take the Threads for ourselves. I can assure you that, given our longstanding and very observable worship of Mephala, that we seek only to curate them and keep them safe from people much like your... Hollow Council."

To Niralie, he nodded. "Oh yes, nightfall. Have you ever heard of the Necromancer's Moon, and the phenomenon known as the Shade of the Revenant? It is a dangerous night to be the enemy of a determined necromancer; and the moon will be high in the sky tonight."

Nora pondered for a moment, before speaking but for herself solemnly and not of the group "Ay do not know of ye.. but I condemn these accursed relics true n' true. Had I but te means.." she looked down at the ring Teldril bestowed her "..I would see the's damnable things smite'n from all th'at there be.. an' that horn'd [&@%!] smile along wit'th it."

She turned and look at her fellow comrades, familiar faces alike from back in that destined dungeon "Aye, but I have not te means.. an so I conceded it best to return back from whence they came, where it be safer than here.." she turned to look at the grandmaster finally, ring still in hand "..An it seems there be but another way, to keep 'em from the hands of mortals alike.. my very heart tempts me on this"

Niralie - Laennec Manor

Niralie was distracted from her anxiety by the scholarly thoughts that the Dunmer’s words brought; the names sounded familiar, as if she’d seen them somewhere before. A few moments later it came to her, and she answered the Grandmaster, adding in an explanation for her companions’ benefit.

“I remember coming across a mention of the Shade of the Revenant in my enchanting research; it is said to enable the creation of black soul gems.” The disgust in her tone made her feelings on the topic clear.
“I do not know much about it or this ‘Necromancer’s Moon’, but if it’s as dangerous as you say, and if we do indeed have necromancers after us...” The implications of what they might be facing hit her. “...and you say the crypts were emptied...” She stared back at the Dunmer. “Gods. Oh, gods.”

There was so much more to process, especially the Tong’s offer to collect the Threads, but Niralie was unable to find the words just yet.

Ravel

Oh, so when he accuses Niralie of being a Necromancer, given she's a talented mage who's looking for the same artifacts, it's a reasonable deduction that was worth looking into. But when I do it I'm mean and should apologize? Ravel was going to voice those thoughts, but hesitated when her panic set it. Then Ravel's own face dropped with a realization of their own.

"They're after these Threads you've all been looking for. And you think they killed this man..." said Ravel, pointing at the late Laennec. "...to lay a trap. Now his death's just gotten their two biggest rivals in the hunt in the same room?" Ravel swallowed. "Please tell me you searched this house thoroughly."

Eolwyn

"If I may interject." Eolwyn addressed the Grandmaster.
"Though originally gifts to Mephala, it is now Sanguine himself that asks us to collect the Threads. He has a little game," she raised her eyebrows in disapproval, "going between our group and The Hollow Council. For every Thread we give to you, is one less Thread on our score. Sanguine favours whomever wins this game, that is, if he is true to his word.
So you can see why we would be reluctant to hand them over to you."
The Bosmer paused.
"And of course, no disrespect, but for all we know, your group could also be players in this game."

Laennec Manor

Eno was truly a little thrown off my Nora's manner of speech, but maintained plenty of composure regardless. "What is infernal to one, is a treasured relic to another. Surely you know this, northerner. Your ways of life may seem foreign to the people you've encountered here, but they are dear to you regardless. Such is our relationship with the Threads and the works of Mephala."

To Niralie and Ravel, the grandmaster nodded. "You can be assured that it is so, young master Telvaani. We had planned for any instance of your entrance, be it from the secured back entrances or the front door. This remains true for our potential visitors. I do not think we could hope to stop a horde of zombies from breaking down the doors, however. Better to let them funnel in for the slaughter." he said, then looking to Eolwyn with great interest.

"You are correct to suspect us. I would be disappointed if you didn't." Eno admitted to Eolwyn. "Your insinuation that the lord of revelry is involved, however, is fascinating. Do you realize how rare it is for a Daedric Prince to directly interact with a mortal, let alone many, be it for a grand errand or frivolous game regardless? Yours is a quest that has great implications for a greater scope than you may realize. Tell me, what does Sanguine wish to do with the Threads gathered? Are they to be sequestered away in the Myriad Realms of Revelry, far from mortal hands, or something else?"

"We know't not why, just th'at they be away from other's pryin hands" Nora said immediately "As'if that sly devil tellin us te full of it"

Niralie - Laennec Manor

Niralie thought back through all the different interactions they'd had with Sanguine - some of them more hazy than others, due to the drunken euphoria that they'd often felt in the Prince's presence. She seemed to recall the answer from early on, though: "I think he said that he wanted to place them in locations of his choosing. We don't know where or what for, but as far as we're concerned, Nora's right: by collecting them we can at least prevent the Hollow Council from misusing them and avert whatever disaster they have planned - and hopefully save our own lives in the process."

Ravel

"How..." Ravel began under their breath, wondering how the Grandmaster knew their allegiance, just how long had they been spying on them? How much did they know? Then Ravel took one look at the Telvaani robes they were wearing and blushed from embarrassment. Comfy, stylish and practical? Yes. Discrete? Not so much.

Ravel shook their head and tried to get back to business. "If history is any prescient, Daedric artifacts never stay in one place for long. Could be years, sometimes decades, but eventually they seem to find their way back into the world. Sanguine wants them now as part of this game, one you'll agree it's better we win than this Hallow Council. We'll have no interest in them after that and I doubt Sanguine will either. If this game is any indication, he's more interested in what mortals will do for them than the artifacts themselves."

"Point is, in a few years, he may decide to play this game again, scattering the gems and such to the wind, see who'll track them down. And when he does, there's nothing to stop you from sending a team of your own recruits on a hunt across the empire, threatening to expel them if they fail in finding some absurdly powerful yet obscure artifact..." Ravel trailed off, the frustration on their face and in their voice clear.

Laennec Manor

Eno smiled and nodded. "You make a fair point. I believe it would be preferable to keep them out of the hands of your dear 'friends', then. They can be gathered once more in the coming days. I trust you will not interfere once this business is finished... and I certainly hope you aren't lying. Cooperation with the Morag Tong can be as beneficial as betraying us can be... problematic."

As Eno spoke, Dorian stood still, unable to take his eyes off of his father's body as the contrastingly cordial conversation carried on... that is, until the twinkling of purple caught his eye through the main window on the far side of the study. As the celestial bodies in the night sky lined into the proper arrangement, the purple tones of the Shade of the Revenant crept slowly into the room, stretching out like a shadow under the setting sun.

As the shade illuminated the study with ominous light, a soft glow began to shimmer through the window, taking on the image of a translucent-purple humanoid figure that began to gently float down. The figure was dressed in long robes with a drawn-over hood, all shrouded in the same purple ghostly glow. The image held aloft a in its right hand, and at its hip rested.

Most striking of all was the figure's Hollow Council mask, which it promptly removed upon touching down to reveal a that was all too familiar to a few of the party's numbers.

"It's been far too long." spoke the shimmering image of Nandrnil. "I regret that our reunion must come with the pretense of your demise, but I promise you that it will be quick if you allow it."

Niralie - Laennec Manor

Niralie nodded along agreeably as the Grandmaster spoke, but tensed as the purple light began filtering in. It looks so unnatural... it has to be the Shade of the Revenant, she thought, gazing wide-eyed at the light descending into the room.

When the figure materialized before them and revealed its face, she gasped loudly and stumbled backward into the door frame, and gripped it tightly. This was the face of the man who had nearly killed her twice. Hadn’t Eolwyn mentioned that she’d captured him and that he’d been imprisoned? How had he escaped? Niralie remembered how powerful a mage he was, and felt her blood run cold.

The shock of seeing him was causing her fear to border nearly on hysteria, but she managed to choke out the word, “Why?” She swallowed and continued pleadingly, “If... if you wanted us dead, why did you spare me back then?” Perhaps he had simply been toying with her, but she didn’t quite feel like that was it. She prayed to Stendarr that if there was any shred of mercy or goodness in the man, that she could reach it.

Ravel

Ravel took on a guarded stance when the figure appeared in the window. They looked him up and down but their eyes paused on the tome by their side. "That book..." Ravel muttered. They couldn't be certain, especially with necromancers, they were prone to doing all sorts of strange things when it came to decorating their lairs. But the binding on the tome seemed to match descriptions they'd read of the Oghma Infinium. This could be it.

They looked at Niralie and then back at the Hallow Council member. "You all know each other then." Ravel stated. I hope they weren't close. He is threatening to kill us, but if that is the artifact he's not parting with it willingly.