Then we are agreed (Vis I)

“Then we are agreed.” Vis said to Aarkand with the slightest of grins. “You do this for me, and I shall put you in the way of what you desire.”

              Aarkand laughed. “Very well friend. It is not a small thing you ask, but the reward you offer is far too tempting to pass up.”

              “I shall see you when the fates decree we shall meet next.”

              And with that, Vis phased out and walked out of the room. Walking quickly and with purpose, He sang his invisibility spell quietly to himself. Hitting the final word, just as he stepped over the body of the ignorant fool that was guarding the door, he vanished. It was approaching dusk in Waterdeep, the sun hanging low over the ocean like a fat bottomed firefly, shimmering waves coruscating off the water as the light faded gently.

              He decided to bide some time in a local tavern, to put his ear back to the streets as it were for a time. Unfortunately, after a few hours of idling turned up nothing of interest except a few silvers for a song he sung to quiet a tavern brawl. Tonight was not the night to get hauled off in chains by the local authorities. Waiting until well after dark, the assassin refreshed his invisibility spell, after topping up his stoneskin enchantment. One can never be too careful. He hoped the Mage he was to kill didn’t heed that sage advice.

              Moving silently on his Elven boots, and gliding from shadow to shadow, Vis moved slowly and carefully to the tower’s entrance. After a moment’s hesitation, he invoked a minor power of the ring he wore and began to ascend the tower. Like a ghost he stole up to the stained glass window. Examining the stonework around the window, and finding some cracked mortar, he put his ear to the crack, and focused all his concentration on hearing any noise inside. He heard only the slow, rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping. Taking his time, and moving slowly, he set to work on the windowpane. Checking for mechanical traps first, he found a clever little device that would have triggered a loose brick or two to fall out. Just where a common cat burglar would have anchored himself while attempting to break in.

              Chanting under his  breath, he began the spell to detect the use of magic. Just as he thought, the window was magically locked and warded besides. For a moment, he waited, thinking furiously. And a plan slowly began to develop. He used the spider climb ability to climb above the window, head down. He paused for another spell.

              “Magical darkness envelops my form, light bends around me hiding my body, the darkness fades, my body stays,  Now, nothing is seen but a memory” he chanted as the improved invisibility spell took hold. More magic here, A lock, a lock, all disarmed by a simple Knock Counting to 3, he reached down and rapped the windowpane once, sharply. The ward flashed out, seems it was a simple trap, one involving fire of some sort. The window slammed open, and Vis heard the mage sit up in bed, bolt upright, He heard hurried footsteps as the mage crossed the room to the window. He saw the mage’s head poke out to see who was there and the Bard pounced on him. Swinging down from above, and twisting in midair, he planted his boots firmly in the mage’s chest. Rolling into the room atop the mage, Vis struck quickly. Lashing out with a mailed fist, he punched the mage in the jaw neatly dislocating it and breaking it in three or four places. Bounding off of the stricken spellcaster, he turned to face him. The mage put his hands to his stricken jaw, moaning in agony. Vis grabbed out and took hold of the mage’s hands. The slender elven fingers, crackled and snapped under the powerful grip of the assassin.

              “There now, don’t scream, or I may have to start breaking other things.” Vis said as the mage howled in pain from his knees.

              “Oo broh muhh eengers oo athterd!” the mage cried. Then, looking up at Vis, more immediate matters came into his mind. “Oo thii, dunn kii mee! I ive oo aayhing!”

              Vis crossed to the window to close it so further screams would be muffled. “Now now, I’m not going to kill you. I just want to know where a couple of items are, then I’ll be more than happy to be on my way. Before you get any ideas on how to escape, be wary that I’m not in a mood to be trifled with. Now, lets see if this works… Forgotten languages long unknown, foreign tongues never learned, a spell of power, your words and mine are now understood”

              “What the hell was that?” the mage asked, now perfectly understood.

              “Just a simple tongues spell so I can better understand you. You have some things I want. One is a staff…” Vis went on to describe the staff to the mage, and the mage’s eyes widened a bit, “… and the other is a desiccated heart. Used in some spell or another. Tell me quickly, where are they?”

              “If… if I tell you where they are, you won’t kill me?”

              “Perhaps. But I know for certain that if you don’t tell me, your last moments in this realm will be filled with the most glorious pain. Quickly now. The sooner, the better.”

              “How do I know you’re not lying?”

              Vis moved quickly, like a cobra striking. He grabbed a pair of daggers from his bracers and plunged them deep into the mage’s collarbones. The mage screamed in agony as Vis turned the blades left and right, twisting them in the man’s flesh. “Go ahead, doubt my word.” He withdrew the daggers, and let the mage slump to the floor. The spellcaster flopped around a bit, like a fish, now that the muscles that enabled him to use his arms were nearly severed.

              “The staff’s in the rack by the stone slab! On the second floor!” The caster gasped, now in more pain than he had thought possible.

              “And the heart?” Vis asked coolly, picking at a bit of dirt from under a fingernail.

              “It is an evil thing, too powerful for me, I don’t know why…”

              Again, Vis moved quickly with his daggers. The blades sinking deep into the mages thighs, neatly severing the hamstring muscles. The motion carried him so he was face to face with the mage. Scowling fiercely. “Tell. Me. Where. The. Heart. Is. Now. Please.” He enunciated each word with a twist of the daggers.

              “Its in a box,” the mage panted, “Under the bed. There’s a secret cubby.”

              “There now, was that that hard?” The bard removed his daggers and stowed them neatly away. He pulled out a flask, and palmed half or the poison he was given into it. “Here, drink this. It’s a healing potion. Like I said, I don’t want to kill you. Oh wait, you can’t take it, your arms don’t work. Never mind all that then, Open wide, down the hatch!” The mage looked panicked as Vis poured the contents of the potion into his mouth. Instantly, the poison Vis had palmed into the healing potion took its deadly effect. Even as the potion healed the mage’s grievous wounds, his nerve endings ceased firing. The mage died quickly, but not before the healing potion was able to heal all of the wounds. A perfect, unblemished body lie before him.

              The bard trotted down the stairs to the second level. He saw the staff he was looking for in a rack on a wall. It reminded him faintly of a billiards rack for some reason. There were a couple of other staves on the rack, but he wasn’t sent for them. Glancing around after taking the staff and securing it to his pack, he took stock of the room at a glance. He wandered about a bit in what seemed to be the laboratory, absently taking several small objects of art that he deemed to be both valuable and portable. “I see the powers glowing, I detect the magic flowing.” He sang as he refreshed his detect magic spell. Glancing around, he picked up several small objects, a ring or two, a wand or three and whatever else caught his practiced eye. He jogged down to the bottom floor and repeated his search. Seeming cursory, he didn’t want to waste his dwindling time on frippery or trash. He used his bardic knowledge and cunning to determine what would fetch the best prices. The rug on the floor fascinated him. He checked it for traps, and seeing none, he rolled it back. To his surprise, there was a trapdoor set in the floor, with an iron ring pull. He hesitated for a moment, and after checking it for traps, he pulled it open.

              Dropping nimbly onto the stairs, Vis realized he was in a store room of sorts, cheeses wines and other foods hung neatly out of the way of vermin. A long stick of fresh hard sausage caught his eye and he pulled it off its hook to nibble at it. Beef, with a hint of spices it seemed. He savored the flavor for a moment before stuffing it idly into his pack. He ventured further into the basement, his dark vision picking up everything, even though there was nothing interesting to see. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the seam of a secret door. Running his fingers across the edge, he took a moment to puzzle out the mechanism. After that moment, he noticed a false stone that as a slightly different texture than the others. Chert, instead of the granite that the tower as built of. He pressed it and the door swung open. He had found the mage’s “treasure room” or so he thought. The mage seemed a poor man, or one to spend his coin foolishly on trinkets and art. More than likely, he spent a great deal on the alchemy that he did. No matter, he won’t be needing the remainder of this. Taking the platinum and gold, and stuffing his pouches with gems, he lost track of time while enraptured by the money.

              He was snapped out of his daze by a distant cock crow. “Hellfire!” he thought, “it’s almost dawn!”

              Hurrying up with the spoils, he rushed up the stairs. The mage’s body lay where he left it, blackening quickly with the action of the poison. He shoved the bed aside, and saw where the false door was. Pulling at it, in his haste, he failed to remember to check for traps. Luckily, the trap was magical in nature, and the fireball that erupted when he pulled the door open didn’t kill him. It did, however, set the bedroom alight. He fumbled inside the niche, and grabbed the two boxes that were in there, a sickly pulse emanating from the one. Stuffing them unceremoniously in his pack, he tossed out a couple of flasks of greek fire, fully intending to fire the tower anyway. Making sure they landed where they would not be seen as odd, one into the rack of alchemy supplies, and another onto the workbench.

              “Cat, dog, rabbit or fox, ogre, troll, cow or ox, I change my form to deceive my foes, I polymorph myself to destroy those I oppose” Vis sang as he cast the spell that would enable him to escape easily. Fortunately, the fireball had blown out the glass window, and singing on the run, Vis turned into a large raven and flew out into the dawn. The tower was wracked by another explosion, and he glided softly down to an alley. Again, invoking the magic, he changed into a common mongrel dog, and trotted off towards the city gates.

              He had a meeting to get to.