The Redbelly bandit leader was nervous. His hands were in the pockets of his red court and his black beard and long black hair were hiding his taught muscles. Â He watched the robed figure next to him.
The figure in black robes was picking  over a pile of dead bodies for one he wanted. Of the twelve dead corpses, the figure in black had selected four and dragged them aside. The figure was short but the bandit leader had no idea what race the figure was. Certainly not a roe or lalafell but that left three options.
The figure's flowing black robes, large hood' and extoically painted porcelain mask hid all distinguishing characteristics.
The figure clicked its tongue and spoke in a thin, whisper of a voice, like roaches scampering over dead leaves.
"These will be all."
The bandit leader shuddered at the necromancer's voice. The necromancer that called himself the "Mask of the Seven Frozen Horrors Shrouded in Nald'thal's Mists" or "Myst" as he told the bandit to call him, had come to them recently offering ten thousand Gil for each -suitable- corpse the bandits brought him.
Myst rose to his feet and turned to stare at the bandit leader. Two icy blue eyes gazed out from behind the mask.
"Aight. Forty thousand, per usual." The bearded man grunted. His greed was greater than his fear. Myst made an inhuman clicking nose and reached into a sleeve. The air temperature dropped several degrees.
"Take your worldly goods." Myst hissed, tossing a bag of Gil onto the floor.
Before the bandit leader could move, the door to the stone hut opened and two Redbellies entered.
"Hey Boss, Grimsong is back. Someone beat the hell out of him and kept him from getting Korbin's payment. Says a hired monk or something stopped him."
The bandit leader raised an eyebrow. Grimsong was an ass but he hadn't failed to get a job done till now.Â
"Aight, grab some of the boys and go round and gut this monk and take both Korbin's ears for defying us."
"Want us to kill him?" one of the Redbellies inquired.
"Naw, we need him to keep running the inn so we can shake him down. Just the ears. Get going."
The bandit boss looked at Myst.
"Excuse me, business calls. I'll send someone by to load up the bodies for you"
Myst bowed his head while speaking.
"Much appreciated. Also, could you send Grimsong to see me?"
"Why?" The bandit leader asked, suspiciously. He knew Grimsong had been working with this necromancer for some dark end, which they claimed had nothing to do with the bandit's business; but the bandit leader had sniffed out betrayal before.
"I need to discuss the matters of -our- arrangement. If you want the details, speak with him. It is not my business to repeat what I know."
The voice was a whisper but it held an icy edge as if he was considering something foul and unnatrual.
The bandit leader didn't push the issue. He simply nodded and followed his men out the door, leaving Myst alone with the dead. Myst preferred it this way.
The figure in black robes was picking  over a pile of dead bodies for one he wanted. Of the twelve dead corpses, the figure in black had selected four and dragged them aside. The figure was short but the bandit leader had no idea what race the figure was. Certainly not a roe or lalafell but that left three options.
The figure's flowing black robes, large hood' and extoically painted porcelain mask hid all distinguishing characteristics.
The figure clicked its tongue and spoke in a thin, whisper of a voice, like roaches scampering over dead leaves.
"These will be all."
The bandit leader shuddered at the necromancer's voice. The necromancer that called himself the "Mask of the Seven Frozen Horrors Shrouded in Nald'thal's Mists" or "Myst" as he told the bandit to call him, had come to them recently offering ten thousand Gil for each -suitable- corpse the bandits brought him.
Myst rose to his feet and turned to stare at the bandit leader. Two icy blue eyes gazed out from behind the mask.
"Aight. Forty thousand, per usual." The bearded man grunted. His greed was greater than his fear. Myst made an inhuman clicking nose and reached into a sleeve. The air temperature dropped several degrees.
"Take your worldly goods." Myst hissed, tossing a bag of Gil onto the floor.
Before the bandit leader could move, the door to the stone hut opened and two Redbellies entered.
"Hey Boss, Grimsong is back. Someone beat the hell out of him and kept him from getting Korbin's payment. Says a hired monk or something stopped him."
The bandit leader raised an eyebrow. Grimsong was an ass but he hadn't failed to get a job done till now.Â
"Aight, grab some of the boys and go round and gut this monk and take both Korbin's ears for defying us."
"Want us to kill him?" one of the Redbellies inquired.
"Naw, we need him to keep running the inn so we can shake him down. Just the ears. Get going."
The bandit boss looked at Myst.
"Excuse me, business calls. I'll send someone by to load up the bodies for you"
Myst bowed his head while speaking.
"Much appreciated. Also, could you send Grimsong to see me?"
"Why?" The bandit leader asked, suspiciously. He knew Grimsong had been working with this necromancer for some dark end, which they claimed had nothing to do with the bandit's business; but the bandit leader had sniffed out betrayal before.
"I need to discuss the matters of -our- arrangement. If you want the details, speak with him. It is not my business to repeat what I know."
The voice was a whisper but it held an icy edge as if he was considering something foul and unnatrual.
The bandit leader didn't push the issue. He simply nodded and followed his men out the door, leaving Myst alone with the dead. Myst preferred it this way.