THE GUILD OF SILENCE

The Guild of Silence is a secret organization of thieves, assassins, spies and bounty hunters. Not really evil, but definitely self interested, profit motivated, and morally flexible. If it's questionable and profitable, The Guild of Silence is involved. Something has brought you to them. You are alone and you've waited for days to be called upon. Now here you are in the kitchen of a tavern, the wine cellar of inn, the cargo hold of old ship, in a barn on the outskirts of town, the attic of a church or in an empty tomb in the cemetery. You get the signal and you enter before three black cloaked, stark white masked figures.

One of them speaks but you cannot tell which one. "What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?"

Apply with a description of your 1st level character and an answer to the question. I'll give it at least few days for replies then they'll ask another question. We will proceed in that fashion until a group is selected. Anything goes  with the character concepts and I'll sort through what I want. :-)

Standing before the council of three is a male Tabaxi with dark purple fur with white spots standing just over 6 feet tall and very nimble looking. "Well you can help me giving me new places to go and a reason to go there." As he makes this statement he begins to wonder around the room looking for anything of interest. "As far as what I can do for you, well there are many things I am good at. I tend to find myself in other peoples houses with out invitation, bits of information are easily gathered by my eyes and ears." With that last word you see his ears shift back and forth as if picking up a sound that is not there. "I am also good at blending in to crowds."

Torrin, a green dragonborn with 2 different colored eyes (one green, one yellow-black), stands before the three robed figures, eyes constantly darting from one to another, never staying on one for more than a second. "What can I do for you?" he says, a hint of manic restlessness in his voice. "I know secrets that have been kept so long, most have forgotten to look for them. Secrets so terrible, the world would quake with fear if they knew they existed. I have found a link to the Night Serpent, and have seen some of the nightmares she's eaten. I know what lurks beyond the imaginings of mortals. I have seen, and I am not afraid. So, what can I offer you? Eldritch knowledge to further whatever ends you wish and an insatiable desire to discover that which others would remain hidden. In return, all I ask is for the resources to continue seeking out the secrets the Night Serpent holds."  The last few words are spoken both audibly and telepathically in the minds of the three figures.

The craking wood around them was the only sound that could be heard on the cargo hold of the abandoned ship, after a few seconds while the three hooded figures looked down to the half-elf that was standing before them, Doltras, pulled down his own hood. Black hair, pale skin and grey eyes. He was nimble and his grin smile was a little bit disturbing, as if he already knew something about each one of them. 

“Well, I’ve heard that you often trade with secrets. I am good knowing the secrets of the people. Information is power they say, and I have a talent to obtain that information... “ 

Zerxius scans his grey eyes across the room, taking in the shadows, his beloved shadows. He pauses a bit and answers

"What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?"  hmmm

for me a place what i can do for you,  What do you need doing? he asks in a low voice uncomfortable with being in the open

A tan half-elf leans against one wall of the wine cellar, eyes flirting around the room, taking everything in and trying to see if he can spot any rare or expensive vintages from his current spot. Nothing about his looks stand out, as he is quite average and fairly forgettable in appearance.  A rapier hangs from his belt on one side, matched by a dagger on the other. He barely even looks at the three figures until one talks to him. At that he finally looks to them, inspecting the robes and wondering which spoke. 

“What can you do for me?  Plenty. Guild backing is always helpful for a thief.  Easy access to a fence or three. Safe houses. Connections.  The usual.

As for what I can do, might be easier to ask what I can’t. I’ve yet to meet a lock or a pocket I can’t pick.  I’m a skilled forger, and more than passing fair with a blade to boot. 

I’m new in town, figured I should make myself known to you. Would much rather work with ya than against.”

As he sat at his favorite table near the backdoor of The Yellow Harpy and told the “fortunes” to those he could convince, Monio Otzoa made notice of a few others filing their way into the kitchen, most trying to be unassuming as they do so. This was not the first such occurrence he had noticed in all his time of visiting the tavern.  He had heard stories of meetings occurring for some less-than-reputable organization - The Guild of Silence, he though he overheard one evening. Prior to this night, he made some inquiries and discovered when another meeting was to be held. 

Taking a look at the clock he decided it was time he made his way to the kitchen as well. Hastily flipping over another card for his another villager seeking some manner of good news, “Oh my! Great wealth I see coming your way… Now, if you would excuse me, I believe the, uh…cook forgot something on my plate.” He snatches up the few coppers his customer had placed on the table -  a table that has no plate of food on it. The shorter, barrel-chested man moves with some amount of grace which his frame betrays. Those who care to notice may see some discolored skin in two places: running up the right side of his neck, then along his jaw line; and on his hand below his left thumb, running down the inside of his arm then disappearing in his undershirt. These patches look “scaly” perhaps, and are an almost golden color, but considerably duller. Some would say they have a brassy sheen.

He strides through the door confidently and looks around. “Oh good. I didn’t miss the meeting, did I?” he asks in a hushed voice to no one in particular. Noticing the queue of a handful of individuals awaiting their turn to speak with a trio of white masked figures sitting at the table in the corner, he takes up his place in the line. While waiting he scans the room for something to nibble on and finds a half-eaten loaf of rye and a few crumbs of a blue veined cheese.

Not sure what to expect he tries to listen in as those in front speak to the masked figures. As his turn comes, he casually steps up to the table for his apparent interview. "What can we do for you?” one of the figures asks him. “Or more importantly, what can you do for us?"

Trying to think fast on his feet he closes a hand and concentrates for a moment. “My needs are few at the moment. I would definitely like a way to make a bit more coin than the few silver I can make telling fortunes. My tastes in food can sometimes be expensive. Also, I do have a more immediate need... Being short on gold at the moment I could sure use some more - or just even one - of these,” opening his hand, he produces a diamond about the size of a copper piece. “I bet you could use a few of these well,” he says arching an eyebrow. Somehow detecting that these individuals are not too impressed with this ruse, he drops the illusion. “Some say that I have a way with words, but I also have a few other ‘magic’ tricks up my sleeves.” He quickly reaches out and touches a quill on the table, causing it to glow rather brightly. “Hmmm…? No? How about I give you a free reading of your fortune, or I could cook you a nice meal?” He stands there awaiting his judgement, as beads of sweat beginning to appear around the rotund man's forehead though he doesn't look nervous.

A half elf woman with long dark hair, wearing the crisp white robes of a priestess of Lathander walks up to the figures confidently. She has a kind smile on her face and stops right in front of the middle figure, gently taking their hand in hers. "I see you are greatly troubled, my child, Talk with me and tell me about your concerns. The light of Lathander will help ease your mind." Then she drops his hand and her smile turns into a sarcastic one, the kindness on her face gone. "Or some shit like that. You wouldn't believe how far you can get wearing priest robes. It opens up all kind of doors. Hire me, and the light of Lathander will always be by your side."

 A large Human with no visible weapons steps up with only a simple chain vest and some manacles dangling on his belt.  A nose that has been broken numerous times and cauliflower ear...  "What I do is crack skulls and kick ass.  Name is Bunko Rastweller.  Been a bouncer, enforcer, head basher, and art dealer"  He grins slightly at the last.  "Likes me some art I do."  He cracks his knuckles through his leather gloves.  "I'm just looking for some serious coin..  I;m sure this could be the start of a mutually beneficial relationship."

A tiefling snapped his tail a bit nervously. He rarely froze at questions, but this is something Allure really wanted, so the words must be careful.

"Well, you could give a boatload of gold and a few tomes of eldricht knowledge, I'd say thank you and we'd call it quits", that came out way cheekier than expected. "But I'm guessing that's out of the question. Let's see... I'm charming, for one. Normally that would be enough, but oh well. I also know every lowlife in the city worth knowing, I can make most people think I'm an elf given the right tools and oh, I'm a Warlock of no small talent."

With the last words, ominous whispers filled the room, as the Warlock used his magic. He regretted this instantly, as the figures were, obviously, harder to impress with a simle cantrip than the commoners he used to trick. Were the situation less serious, he'd congratulate himself on a spell well done.

"Will that suffice? As for what you can do for me... Now that's the question I should be asking. What I want is gold, pure and simple. Prominence, even if it's among the shadows. Knowledge, but that's not new among those who wield magic. If you can give me any - or all - of those, than I'm hooked."

Ulf stares at the figures stoically, eyes slowly moving between the three of them. The dwarf's scale mail is well-maintained but has clearly seen some use, and his dark hair and beard, both pulled into short tufts at the base of his skull and chin respectively, are flecked with grey. At his waist, two handaxes and three wooden stakes are shoved into his belt, with two pouches whose shapes suggest they contain single vials fastened beside them. The pouches are identical except for the stripes painted on their flaps: one is black, one white. A longbow and a quiver of arrows are visible over his right shoulder. He looks back to the figure in the center and speaks:

"Sometime in the next year, I am going to kill a hag." His words are matter-of-fact, with no doubt that this will happen. "Any help the Guild could provide will be much appreciated. As for what I can do for you, I'm tough as a mountain boulder and a terror with two handaxes, and I've spent the past six years learning all there is to know about killing fairies." He pauses, then adds, "And other monsters besides."

The three figures stood silently, their expressions a mystery behind their alabaster white masks, which seemed to blend naturally into their snowy surroundings. The only sound in the air was the howling wind and the creak of the wooden shrine behind them. Beyond that was nothing but open air, an jagged cliff that led to a seemingly endless, rocky slope. Eventually, if one fell, they would reach the bottom of the mountain, broken and bruised.

 "What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?"

Wraanar grinned. His teeth were razor sharp, a faded yellow color that contrasted deeply with his pure white scales. The Dragonborn loomed over the 3 figures, a hulking mass of bone, furs, and blood. His scales were exposed to the elements, but he breathed deeply in the frigid air, relishing its chill as only a White Dragonborn could. At his sides hung two wooden handaxes, caked with the blood of those he'd hunted, and those that had hunted him. Wraanar was a predator, a warrior in his prime, but as he stood face to face with those pale white masks, for the first time in a very long time, Wraanar felt like prey.

"What I  am wanting with you?" The words came heavily, and through a thick accent, each word a slow growl. "I am wanting new prey, strong prey, prey worthy of Wraanar." 

He huffed, his breath coming from his nose and rising in the air like hot steam. "And you. You are all very small, yes? You are needing someone big, strong like Wranaar. To protect you.

Wraanar's grin widened, his lips curling back around his fangs, revealing the blood that lingered after his most recent meal.

"Do not worry. Wraanar will protect you."

OOC: PROBABLY ON TWO SOLIDS AND TWO MAYBES SO FAR: KEEP SUBMITTING!

"Names, Onyx. I'm a bounty hunter of sorts, for me all I ask is a task worthy to my skill set. as far as what I can do for you, I've been around these lands many times, I have made various friends both in the upper echelons of society and those, although may rank high within their circle, their not as welcomed in your average city"

Darùn heard them way before he saw them. A faint staccato emanating from the duet of worn-off boots and the cragged ground outside the warehouse, announcing the arrival of three. Interesting. We finally commence our next tragedy. He could feel a smile blemish his face. The Guild of Silence normally wanted it the other way around, one had to meet them at their signal, but today wouldnt be played according to their rules. His smirk widened. With that, the frontdoor was pushed open. The scarce light of a torch now banishing the darkness, Darùn saw three figures standing in the doorway. The one to the right still had his foot midair from kicking the door open. "Hey there, friends. I figured we could just get this over with quick." Their black cloaks were merging with the night outside, while their purely white masks now focussed on the man sitting in the middle of the room. White faces for the most black guild around. Thats what i call humour. What the messengers saw sitting on a few wooden planks appeared to an ordinary, male human. He wore leather armour in a dark grey tone, covered by a cloak just like their own ones. He had dirty-brown hair paired with intriguingly green eyes, and a long, thin scar was running across the right half of his face, ranging from his brow down to his jaw. The only weapon he was carrying was a rapier lying on the floor next to him. One of the messengers raised his voice.

"What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?"

"What i can do, huh." Darùn slowly rose up. He then grabed the rapier with his left, the palm of his hand embracing the blade until a little rivulet of blood ran down the edge. "I guess i could end all of you here, but that's not what any of us came for. I am a hunter. I am what makes evil flee in the night. And for the moment, i'll be willing to work under your command. That too is what i ask of you. I must admit, i am dying of boredom. I ran out of prey worthy being hunted and i was hoping you could change that. And who knows, if we are to help each other out for longer, i might even trust you to take care of me in the end. Should i ever join the Fallen, that is."

Standing in front of the three figures is a young female drow with dark blue skin and white hair. She has chain tattoos along her collar bone and across her arms and legs that she tries her best to keep covered. When she was a child and starting her training as a priestess she opened an ancient tome about the deity Tharzidun in the cities library and saw things unfit for a sane mind. She burned the book, but it’s words and images are burned into her psyche. Not long after that she started hearing a voice calling to her but no one else could hear it. Eventually her entire family was slaughtered in a raid from a lesser house and she managed to escape and survive. She cast aside all her teachings, traditions and beliefs in Loth and drow society for they had forsaken her and her family. She fled to the surface world where she lived where ever she could find shelter. To find work she started disguising herself as a male as being a female drow people assumed she served Loth and would curse them. Over the years the voice kept haunting her not only in her dreams but every waking moment so she started studying about the deity and thought that maybe he would have the power to get rid of whatever was haunting her. She started praying to Tharzidun asking for his help and power, he obliged and without knowing it she sold her soul to him and became a Cleric of Tharzidun. He granted her power, which until that moment she could only dream of. After awhile of studying and practicing she started to learn of her divine powers granted to her by Tharzidun. And with these newly found powers she started doing mercenary work and other job done by unsavory folk all while secretly spreading the belief of Tharzidun to others she could try to manipulate. Until one day she heard of a guild known as The Guild of Silence. She eventually was able to make contact with them which is why she is currently standing in an empty tomb in the cemetery out side of town. 

One of the cloaked figures speaks up from behind their alabaster mask: "You have been trying to make contact with us and now we have a question for you, What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?"

Her eyes dart between the three and finally rests on the center one as she speaks: "My name is Mystla, all I am looking for is a way to make some coin while gaining knowledge and power and what better way than to have to work for best guild in town. In return I could do many things. From doing small things such as stealing to gaining information from a dead adversary to assassinating someone and then interrogating them after they are dead. I could also keep some of the guild members from dying. I also bring the blessing of a very powerful god and information on the Abyss and the Hell's that was lost when the only tome containing it was burned years ago." She tilts her head slightly and smiles under her hood "What do you say, do we have a deal?" She stands there with her hands behind her back waiting on their reply.

 "AYE, CONSTABLE! WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!" Raze yells over her shoulder as she entered the tavern. She turns inside and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. "At least, not to your knowledge" she mutters as the door slams behind her. She squints towards the what must have been the kitchen due to the delicious smell of whatever the Slop of the Day was. She nods to the patron on her left, who looked thoroughly displeased at his meals interruption, and strode across the creaky floor. Brushing the locks of hair out of her face, she says to the barkeep "I'm meeting some -err friends? What was that damn phrase again... Oh, 'The night is brightest when the moon is new' or uh... something" she trails off lamely.

The gruff barkeep takes a minute examining the small young woman, washing the same spot on a glass with a dirty rag. Raze stands impatiently before him. Her hair is shoulder length and looks as if it was cut with rusty kitchen scissors. A smatter of freckles trails across her pale face and her lips pursed in a stubborn line. Her bony frame seemed more of a sign of a malnourished childhood rather than a result of active sport. No one would call her pretty and if it wasn't for her bright locks red hair, she would undoubtedly be called plain or mouse-like from the less than fond. The barkeep breaks the silence with a grunt and jerks his head towards the door behind him. Raze pushes past the kitchen door, the pleasant odors of fresh bread and spices making her stomach rumble. The Slop of the Day bubbled merrily in hearth as Raze made her way to the back of the kitchen. It was empty. Whipping back towards the doors, Raze yells "OI. WHAT THE H-" A wave of cold washes over her and the sounds of the outside seems to muffle. She goes to draw her swords and turning back, Raze is confronted by three black cloaked, stark white masked figures. One of them speaks but Raze couldn't tell which one. "What can we do for you or more importantly what can you do for us?" Off put by the sudden change of atmosphere Raze stumbles

"Well, uh, shit... uhm, Well I guess I just like stuff. Wait, that sounds stupid. I like magical stuff. Artifacts and shit that are rare and uh... magical." She pauses, collecting her thoughts. "It's like, a collection thing. Like a dragon? The more the better. I haven't necessarily been successful on my own. My street guild usually took the jobs involving coin and it just didn't scratch the itch for me." She nods. "Yah, that's pretty much it." The figures stand in silence. Raze fidgets nervously under their unseen stares. Realizing there was a second part to the question, she continues "Oh! Yah 'What can I do for you'", She thinks for a minute, "Well, my ma dropped me on the street when I was a young lass and joined a gang from there just to survive. I'm the ripe ol' age of 17 and have yet to turn to prostitution to feed myself and all my parts a relatively in tact beside a scar or two. I usually like to avoid a fight but I'm a decent scrapper, and what I lack in strength, I make up for tenacity. Or at least that's what I've heard. So, Am I In?"

Any update on this thread?