Midnight RPG - Chapter 14.72

Kevin / Nazif

• [This scene takes place after Zal'Kazzir frees the imp-like Outsider from his bonding prison above Vrolk's bedchamber... Assume the imp speaks to you all with these words in public; if you have something private to speak with it about - do so in another Bluebook (please ASK me BEFORE beginning a new private article.]

NAZIF, as picutred here, naked and possible chilled was found as such captured seemingly as one of "the Vile's" pets or playthings. Once rescued, he quickly found his courtly cloak, rings, jewelry and other accoutrements. While not embarrassed by being without clothes, any good advisor knows the importance of "looking the part".

The little imp... like a tentative diplomat. The look in its eyes speaks decades. It keeps eye contact with you, slowly moving to each "lord" in the room as it cautiously moves, as to not insite agitation, and it seems to be processing this new information all the way... Listening prior to being set free the Outsider coughs, clearing its throat in ever so untreatening a way... Recalling the tonalities of the Erenlander tongue, it speaks...

"Information is life in the land beneath the Shadow, my lords... My friends...", as if slipping into conversation...

It’s little belly swells and shrinks with each breath. Then it bows before you.

"How EVER may I be of service, ma-lord?", it asks in a soft, mature and courtly voice.

The imp has a courtesan manner about it as it collects those things taken from it when imprisoned, it continues...

"Forgive me, I have you at minor disadvantage ma-lords. While I can see that you have wonderfully disguised yourselves to no doubt fool the fools about Master Vrolk's Black Nail, I have the advantage of knowing your race and creeds, as would my mother know her own childlings... Forgive. You may not be familiar with such as strange fellow as I...

My kind was sent to Aryth in ages past, unkownable to even the eldest of fey, our roles... to play privy to kings, queens, couquerors and courtly aspirations. Quite pointedly to negotiate with the wizards and kings of the day.

Sadly as the Shadow fell, the mountain that was hurled from the heavens RIPPED the very fabric of the cosmos in such a was that a large number of my kin, kith and kind were stranded during that Sundering.

It is my sole wish, NAY - responsibility, ma-lords, to aid those that seek refuge from the Shadow and mallevolent minions of Aryth to make deals with whatever channelers, wizards, and collaborators will have us. We Outsiders remain natural ambassadors, bridging the divide between earthly mortals and unearthly evils.

"It is with newfound thanks that I must offer now, to you my new MASTER", it says looking at Zal'Kazzir.

"You have certainly let loose my perverbial chains, freeing me from my decades of torment at the hands of an elf, barren of elven sensibilities... Not to speak of his lacking in the manner in what makes mortal man into kingly might. Though it is with great sorrow that you have learned my True Name...", as his finger flutters a touch at the ashes resulted from Zal'Kazzir's burning of the skin marked with the word "NAZIF".

'Tis true you, good sir, have freed me. Yet in knowing the ture name of my kind you now hold me sway, beneath your benevolet brow. It is with this, MASTER, that my heart weeps... For rescued me from doom, you are my samaritan, my conservator, my deliverer, my knight, my liberator, my rescuer, my salvager, my hero, you are my salvation... You ma-lord, I would have followed unto the Shadow-Scar., the little courtisan looks away in humbled thought (at the same time glancing to see if your heart-strings are pulled as intended!)

For unlike many of my breathern, I would have followed a true pathwalker, a heroes-journeyman unto the Gates of HELL!

And now... bound as I am, I shall march, to your drum. Though, forgive my insolence MASTER, but I feel it is my duty to unveil my heart as much my mind - my mind grows heavy that it must be without choice in the matter. More a slave than a devout. I only wish there were way that you might see my loyalty to the cause without the necessity of the incorporeal shackles that tie my bond to you forever ma-lord..., Nazif looks up with whimpering eyes.

(ADAM, for your eyes ONLY, see below for a Sense Motive check on this)

Pushing the mist from his bulbous eyes the little ambassador nods to each of you.
Looking you in the eye - not to make ANY one of you feeling less than the other...

"As I said ma-lords, my TRUE name is Nazif how EVER may I be of service."

Adam/Zal'Kazzir

Hail and well met, small one! *Zal'Kazzir smiles warmly*

It seems I may have met my match in word-smithing, and certainly my better in garb and taste. *Zal'Kazzir gives a flourished half-bow*

Be welcome, but be mindful of such harsh words; you are no slave, no more than a Beeshi is slave to his Sussar, and it is ungenerous to accuse one's liberator of enslaving his friends.

Please, sit and let us talk; there is much for us to discuss; have you eaten? *Zal'Kazzir gestures to a plump steak* There is food aplenty and I don't think our rudely absent host will miss it.

[Adam: I'm sure this conversation will probably confuse and/or annoy several characters, but I guess that's the price of diplomacy :P ]

Kevin / Nazif

The little imp... looks about as he slips on his cloak, a dull violet - that had formerly been the color of kings, now faded with filth, denoting that perhaps before he made his way into the insect-infested Spire, the tiny Outsider had walked his way through the Dead Marches as you did but a few days ago. The cloak's fur wreathes its squished neck - a lion's main perhaps, one as white as snow... (in reality this is the fur of some northern dire bear, the cloak of a Dorn or Dwarven king cut down to size, and showing its years)

"Harsh words MASTER? Oh, forgive. I did not intend to twist my tongue to make you feel as though I discredit your kindness. Nay, my liberator. Quite the opposite. I wish to dance in joy and share the day with you and your lovely companions. But it is with sad regret that I cannot dine at the MASTER's table. For I am now bound to you, by the name that your mouth does carelessly whisper. Yes, it is true that no better a MASTER you seem to be that I have ever had - but yet MASTER you are still.

However, it is with my most humble request that I beg, as it lowers to both knees, face to the floor I plead your forgiveness my MASTER. now a little garbled by the fact that its talking into the ground... I had not formerly considered the notion of Beeshi to Sussar... The ways of the Sarcosan people are wise and willing, are they not...? as its bulbous eyes flicker across the faces of Durgaz, then Kyuad, then the Erenlander, then finally resting on Eranon - before refocusing with his head raised, yet still in a kneeling position - as if waiting to be relieved to stand...

Humbled ma-lords, am I. I had not wagered that such a vigilant and venerable member of the mankind would be the one to let loose my chains. Forgive my insolence my MASTER, I knew not to whom I spoke. You have a cautionary tongue that I have not seen the likes of in one hundred and eleventy years. It was the error that my tongue fell forked for but that moment of accusation. I shall take forty lashes on the morn if I take a one for my ungenerous behaviour.

...thank you again for not beating my tongue, MASTER... There is much to discuss. You have told me you are not a king. We must yet discuss which nation you wish to become king of, which people you wish to call your subjects, perhaps we can discuss what your coin will read while I capture your likeness for the backside of your gold piece. As for the food, I will dine only after the MASTER has eaten. When at the heel of one's lord, so first must the MASTER be satiated.

Nazif recalls all that he has said, as if weighing his words but then lets slip something that he had not intended. The words prior were of natural training. But these are from the heart - perhaps even more genuine...

...hmm... wh...whaaat did you call me?... Ma...Master... did you utter and speak the word of bond... did you call me friend?", a tear wells up in the Outsiders eye as he looks up from his prone position...

Adam/Zal'Kazzir

*Zal'Kazzir's face becomes stern*

Speak no more of lashes and boot-heels!

I need neither fawning toady nor grovelling slave. I whisper no name carelessly, and my authority does not imply your servitude; Sarcosan ways, whether wise or not, respect freedom. They demand fealty and offer respect in just measure. I offer you my respect and yes, my friendship, but I demand your fealty.

Bill / Kyuad

Kyuad attempts to interject, "Erm, excuse me Za..."

Adam/Zal'Kazzir

If you would honour my generosity, however, know that it is gravely discourteous to treat my companions and I as though we were starry-eyed fools; you speak to us of kings and coins in a world where kings lie slain and coins are worthless. I understand the value of offering such things, and the intelligence you can gain from our responses, but spare us empty words and hollow promises; speak fairly and be welcome, but fork your tongue ungenerously and know scorn.

*Zal'Kazzir extends a hand to Nazif*

Take my hand and rise my sworn rider and herald, if you would accept my terms.

Bill / Kyuad

"Excuse me, Zal'Kazzir? The old beast makes a point. Perhaps this is a good time to bestow a new name for the creature. Both to mark a new era of service and covenant, and to give it a less personal name in order to protect it from your enemies."

Adam/Zal'Kazzir

*Gently and Sincerely, to Kyuad* Yes, a fine idea, thank you Kyuad.

A new name... a new name...

*Turning back to Nazif, quickly as if inspired* I have it! Your name is as it is, and we have no power to change that, however a title we can bestow! If you would rise as my sworn-rider and herald, then be you known as Belal, the First, just as it was in the old legends; the first and most faithful.

*Zal'Kazzir looks to Nazif, called Belal, questioningly, hand still extended*

Kevin / Nazif

The little imp... with water dripping from its bulbous eye, looks up pupils darting back and forth between the Channellers. The Imp looks at Zal'Kazzir's extended hand and remembers...

"It is with genuine hope and heart that I take solice in the open offer, Nay - reward of your hand MASTER. However, forgive, that I must protest the nature of your preception of my intentions and falsehood. Not, did I seek to sew hollow promise in the ears of starry-eyed fools. There are no seeds of deceit and deception in my flowery speak. Nay, ma-lord - I have given my service to lords and lieges, kings and queens, sinners and saints over the centuries and never have I made the hastey assumption that any were less than I.

I give you this first foray of advice and advocacy ma-lord... I cannot be of better service if my mind is not spoken of full prescription. Were I to twist my tongue to hold back caution and the advices of sages, sorcerors and centuries, then it is the disservice that I portray consultation. Would you have that lack of forewarning of your 'first and faithful herald'? Should I take your hand, it is with the telltale conceit that my will is my own and I give you the words you do not WISH, but rather the words you NEED. At times you will hate me. At times I will hate myself for making it so. But were I to do less, I would rather roam the ethereal planes above Eredane with my less fortunate Outsider brethern.

I ask you MASTER, is it wrong to have wings on your heart, to hope for a new tomorrow?

Is it wrong to cast dreams and wish for fulfillment?

If that is wrong ma-lords, I cannot follow where you tread.

I MUST seek the things of yester-year. I must think of times less VILE. I must take care for the things that mortal forefathers once dreamed of.

Is the thought of kings and coin so lackluster in the veil of Shadow that we cannot hold steadfast to thought that which would make men glorious in the eyes of ancestors and descendants alike?

Make no mistake MASTER, I donot speak lightly when I speak of such wish-fulfillment.

I speak of intention and action. I speak of valor and victory. I speak of that which men fear to speak in the pale dark...

I speak true. In the eye of the beholder. Pray and pennance that my master's eye has room for hope.

If you, Zal'Kazzir Ghulvenne, have the heart to walk with me, we will see a day when men do not fear. We will see a day when dwarf sings song again. We will see a day when the fires on Erethor are no more. And forbid the day that I see you lay down for such goals, I will tell your children's children of the man... the Sarcosan Lord that walked with me into the firey chill of the heart of darkness.

So you ask, Zal'Kazzir Ghulvenne, and I answer...

I kneel, Nazif Kor'ahn - though if you lords have heart I accept your kindness and rise just as it was forseen in the old legends as Belal, sworn-rider and herald of hope, first of the faithful.", as his head dips for the last time, standing to take up this new duty.

---

Midnight: North & South Portal