Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140602194217/@comment-24449631-20140602225115

That night.

A large portion of rotten meat had only just been dumped out of the window from a cheap restaurant and lower district rats were already gorging themselves on the stinking flesh, filled with maggots and flies.

But when the long silhouette of a man walked across the streets, the rats quickly hid again, waiting for the cloaked man to pass.

The cloaked man's face was completely covered in darkness, the cloak itself was made of very fine materials, not so wise to walk around this district with certain attire.

The man hurried his way to a run down Inn somewhere near the water.

The Mudslide Tavern was build on mossy ground, and was therefor lifted right above the waters of lake Rumar with rotting wooden poles, carelessly used as scaffolds and supports under the inn. They creaked like oblivion whenever clientelle above the thin wooden floorboards moved but an inch.

The hooded figure quickly walked in.

In the Tavern you'd mostly find lowlifes and thugs, working folk would be better off in more up-hill facilities. This really was a textbook shady establishment. People watching you constantly, Gambling; most likely without permit, weapons allowed in the bar... etc. You get the idea.

Outside a board hung out, saying that only a maximum of twenty people was allowed in the Inn at the same time... otherwise the dodgy supports might give way and the whole wooden contraption of a building would go tumbling down.

The innkeeper was just cleaning up some mugs when the hooded man walked in.

"We're about to close, get lost."

"The Bell tolled ten times..." The mysterious man said from under his hood.

"When the feather fell down, yeah yeah... I get the password." The innkeeper said seemingly unphased by the secrecy he was required to take part inn then again... nothing phased him, as long as he got coin. A lot of it.

"There all out in the back, you're little bookclub..." He joked, as he pulled a robe, which pulled away a curtain behind the bar to a secret room, only few people knew about.

Inside that room, there were five people waiting around a wooden table, no drinks though, so clearly not a fun social occasion

All wearing the same cloak, but they had done their hood off.

"You're late Venoratti..." One of them sounded from within the shadows of the room.

"I was delayed... Court case. You know how it is..." The man pulled down his hood. It was indeed head of the elder council Venoratti.

"Gentlemen." He said as he took his seat.

"We've done it... The emperor is dead." The imperial spoke with his soft voice.

"Thanks to the poison Geronius Maxus here has provided for us, with compliments of his Secret Intelligence crew at the P.O. We've managed to kill the emperor without the poison being tracked. Bravo..."

"This leads us to phase three of out plan."

"The Cold War between the Adamantine and Imperial Empire will not remain Cold very much longer..."