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Lightbringer
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Links Sign Up - Here Discussion - Here Thread - You are Here Background The Black Lotus Syndicate is a small secretive society founded nearly 200 years ago, living tucked away along the outskirts of Kraegios. Years ago their society was funded by the help of a dying church community, who had been manipulated into giving them money for a cause they did not know the true intent of. Due to the feuding between Kraegios and Rayong over the years, they have thrived because of the advantages that feuding kingdoms bring by lending their aid to both kingdoms for various reasons. Now, years later, their funding has greatly died out, and their society has been pushed underground into more secrecy. The group is smaller and more desperate to regain the wealth they had at their beginning. They are afraid of losing further wealth as the two kingdoms are trying to make peace. If a treaty is made between the kingdoms, assassins like themselves are at risk of being rooted out and killed for their crimes. The signing of the peace treaty is taking place soon, which means there's a limited window of time to strike. Will they succeed?" Edited at July 29, 2024 02:32 PM by Sir Froggington
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Lightbringer
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Black Lotus Syndicate Masterlist Leader/Zealot [Cassian|Male|Portrayed by silhouetteissleepy] Deputy/Zealot [Sylphiel|Female|Portrayed by The Bewitched] Disciples [Draven|Male|Portrayed by Caribou Creek] [Kieran|Male|Portrayed by Honey] [Adelaide|Female|Portrayed by Nirvana_Sky] Alcolytes [Mavros|Male|Portrayed by Edling] [Vixen|Female|Portrayed by Sir Froggington]
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Lightbringer
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Prompt Draven has returned to the Lair, the Church of Fallen Brothers, after contacting Vixen who told him that Kraegios and Rayong are going to make a treaty to finally have peace between the two feuding kingdoms. This news has caused the Syndicate to be concerned and they need to plan how to prevent this event from happening. Cassian is allowing everyone to meet at the lair as they plan the heist to stop it. The meeting starts in the morning inside a dilapidated church made of wood. Only zealots are allowed to know about the singular black lotus in the garden. Name | Gender | Age | Rank | Mentions:
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Neutral
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Cassian Amaris | Male | 36 | Leader | Mentions: Draven (directly), everyone else (indirectly) Cassian stood behind the lectern at the front of the decrepit little wooden church that the syndicate called their lair. It smelled damp, the air hanging heavily over everything within. He had always mused on how much it reminded him of a casket buried in a cemetery. A dark, rotting, resting place of saints that was inhabited now only by sinners. Though Cassian never regarded himself as one of the wretched. The sun had just begun to bleed upon the horizon, bringing in the new day. This had always been his favourite time for meetings, the subject could remain fresh within everyone’s mind for the rest of the day, after all. This was no simple gathering though, it was a reaction to a very concerning threat. A possible peace treaty between the kingdoms of Kraegios and Reyong had been reported to Cassian by Disciple Draven. It had been within the shadow of their mutual hatred that Black Lotus had been able to flourish, and now all of that was about to be thrown away. They had been more opportunistic then anything in regards to the conflict, offering the syndicate’s services to whoever was paying the highest at the time, however it would be highly likely that both kingdoms would decide that Black Lotus was too dangerous to be left be, and should be stamped out at the nearest opportunity. There was also the issue of money. No more feud meant no more wealth taken from the deep pockets of the nobility themselves. Now that just couldn’t do, could it? That’s what Cassian so figured. He smiled about it all to himself, but he could feel his chest burning with internalized frustration. His subordinates came trickling in now. He had staggered out the time for each rank to arrive to cause as little of a scene as possible. First came the Zealots, then came the Disciples, and Cassian had even allowed the Acolytes to come along too. He waited for them to take their seats in the rows of pews in front of him, watching with that same calm smile. “Good morning, everyone,” His soft voice carried easily throughout the church, the room dead silent. He wasn’t one to shout to gather the attention of a crowd, instead his tone was quiet and controlled. “I do hope you all are in good health and spirits for today’s meeting. I won’t draw this out, so let’s get right to the reason I summoned you all here today,” Cassian’s gaze swept across the audience. “Important news was recently received from one of our Acolyte informants in the royal court of Kraegios. Word of a peace treaty between her kingdom and that of Reyong.” He observed the reactions of his subordinates, letting unease settle within the air. “I’m sure all of you can understand that I don’t have any intentions of allowing such a thing to pass,” He leaned forward, resting his left elbow on the wooden lectern with his head in his hand. “I’m sure none of you plan on standing idly by either, considering how likely it is that you all would die.” Cassian was aware that statement may not have been true, especially with Acolytes present. Someone of that rank within the syndicate trying to back out was rarely a surprise for him, no matter how much he made it clear that simply leaving was not an option. He’d have them brought back dead or alive, and any deserters brought to him still breathing were not shown mercy either. He hoped anyone above the lowest rank knew better then to leave, but it wasn’t like he trusted them either. Nonetheless, he carried on, straightening up once again. “We have a few routes we could take with this mission, and I would like to employ all hands on deck unless proven unnecessary in the near or distant future. I have considered perhaps inciting another scuffle between them by poisoning a member of one of their royal courts, pinning the blame on the other kingdom. This may only lend to suspicion if we fail to leave a subtle yet still convincing trail of evidence behind, however, so I am not set on it,” He spoke flatly, without stumbling over his words. “I would like to ask my wonderful subordinates their thoughts on what our actions moving forward should be. Please speak in an orderly fashion, and know that if any arguments break out both parties will be duly punished,” He emphasised the last part of his statement before continuing. “Feel free to take your time as well, we wouldn’t want to act on a hastily made plan, after all.” He smiled a little wider, patiently interlocking his hands together over the lectern. Edited at July 30, 2024 12:17 AM by silhouetteissleepy
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Darkseeker
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Sylphiel Valroris | Female | 28 years old | Deputy | Mentions: Indirectly: Cassian and other Members Sylphiel approached the decrepit wooden church with a sense of purpose, her steps light yet deliberate. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the churchyard, the air still damp with dew. As she entered, the familiar scent of damp wood and decay enveloped her, a reminder of the Syndicate's hidden existence within this forgotten sanctuary. Trailing behind her, a large, dark brindle Mastiff mix followed closely. Sadhbh, the dog she had rescued from the streets as a puppy, had grown into a formidable companion. The dog's presence was a comforting constant for Sylphiel, acting as an extension of the woman. Sadhbh was not just a companion or a guard dog, but also, at times, Syl’s better set of eyes—ones that were always watching. She nodded subtly to a few fellow members, her expression composed. As Sylphiel took her seat near the front of the pews, Sadhbh settled beside her, her large head resting on Syl’s foot. The dog’s calm demeanor and watchful eyes mirrored Sylphiel's own focused gaze. Her pale blue eyes, partially obscured by the waves of her white hair, focused intently on Cassian as he began to speak. As Cassian outlined the dire implications of the potential peace treaty between Kraegios and Reyong, Sylphiel's mind began to churn with the gravity of the situation. The prospect of losing the delicate balance of conflict that had allowed Black Lotus to thrive was unsettling. She felt a flicker of anxiety, quickly quelled by her determination to find a solution. "Peace between Kraegios and Rayong," she murmured to herself, feeling the weight of the statement. She felt Sadhbh huff softly, almost like the dark dog understood the gravity of the situation. Cassian's soft, controlled voice filled the room, a stark contrast to the decay around them. His words painted a bleak picture: without the feud, their operations and very existence could be threatened. Sylphiel took a moment to observe the room as Cassian concluded his speech. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their leader's words settling heavily on the gathered Syndicate members. She could feel the unease and the underlying desperation. Cassian's calm demeanor and sharp smile were almost unnerving in the dark, damp atmosphere of the rundown church. Sylphiel's thoughts raced as she processed Cassian's proposal. The idea of inciting further conflict between the kingdoms had merit; it was a strategy that could potentially keep Black Lotus in the shadows and secure their position. However, the inherent risks were substantial. A single misstep could lead to exposure, jeopardizing everything they had built, and the threat of death loomed if they were discovered. She weighed the options, balancing the chances of success against the potential fallout. Alternatives that might achieve their goals with less risk and greater precision began to take shape in her thoughts. When Cassian opened the floor for input, Sylphiel felt a surge of resolve. She knew that the plan needed to be executed with impeccable precision. Every angle had to be meticulously considered, and every potential outcome accounted for. The survival of Black Lotus hinged on their ability to adapt and outmaneuver their enemies, and their approach was both cunning and effective. For now, she chose to remain silent, her attention fully absorbed by the reactions of her comrades and the flow of the meeting. Her gaze stayed locked on Cassian, her mind a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies. Each suggestion and response was evaluated with careful consideration as Sylphiel prepared to offer her insights when the time was right. She was curious to see what ideas the group would present. Even Sadhbh's large black head had risen, her ears perked and attentive. Edited at July 29, 2024 04:48 PM by The Bewitched
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Darkseeker
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Kieran Lagorio Male | 30 | Disciple | M: Cassian, Draven (ind.), Sylphiel (ind.), other members (ind.) Kieran trudged through the layer of slick leaves covering the ground. It was still early morning, and the dawn dew lay in a fine sheet of droplets across every surface. The rising sun cast a brilliant halo of rays around the silhouette of the church. Its light managed to disguise the decrepit condition of the church for a while, but its decay became obvious as Kieran drew closer. The outside was an unappealing shade of brown, darkened by years of exposure to the elements. At least half of the shingles on the roof were missing, and the window shutters were either absent or hung on by a few stubborn pieces of wood. It was as good a place as any for a hideout, Kieran supposed. The locals assumed it had been abandoned for years, just biding its time until it collapsed on itself in a heap of rotted wood. A local legend floated around that the church was haunted, which always made Kieran chuckle; that was the work of a handful of Acolytes who had been ordered to stomp around and make all sorts of odd noises whenever someone strayed too close. Kieran shoved the door open with his shoulder - it had a tendency to stick, practically falling off its hinges as it was. The inside of the church was a bit nicer, but not by much. They had fixed it up to the extent that the roof would likely not fall on their heads in the middle of a meeting, and called it a day. It was damper inside than it was outdoors, but that was perfectly normal. The interior of the building was always muggy and sticky, leaving the members of the syndicate feeling uncomfortably damp whenever they were called to a meeting. Cassian, Sylphiel, and Draven were all present already. The rest of the Disciples should be along shortly; the syndiate liked to stagger the arrivals of their ranks to avoid raising suspicion. Kieran slid into the pew behind Sylphiel and her dog, Sadhbh. More people than he'd expected were filing in. Usually, the Acolytes were not permitted to attend meetings among the upper ranks, but he was certain at least a few of them were shuffling in with the crowd. He glanced at Cassian as the final stragglers took their seats, but his leader's face betrayed no emotion. The crowd was silent as Cassian spoke, though Kieran could feel their nerves spike once he mentioned the possibility of a peace treaty between Kraegios and Reyong. Not only would they all be out of a job if the treaty came to fruition, but its terms would likely include the destruction of the syndicate and its members. The Black Lotus had thrived for so long thanks to the distrust and deceit between the two kingdoms, and they had carried out no small number of political assassinations over the years. Both kingdoms would likely agree to put a stop to their activities to foster a new peace and put their past of backstabbing and lying behind them. The Acolytes in particular seemed anxious; Kieran suspected that they had no idea that they would be in for something of this magnitude. Kieran chewed at his lip as he let Cassian's words sink it. Their leader was right; the risk of leaving a trail of evidence was far too high to consider poisoning. He mulled over their options in his mind, and when no one else spoke up, he cleared his throat. "We could go to the signing of the peace treaty," he offered. "It'll limit our window of time and be risky, but it might work. If we take out the main supporters of the treaty - and others, so it doesn't look like they're being targeted - they either won't have enough support or will be too panicked to actually sign the damn thing. We'd need all hands on deck, though, like you said. Everyone would have to go, including the Acolytes." He cast a glance at where their new members sat. That was the most obvious flaw in his suggestion. Most of the Acolytes had joined the syndicate within the previous few months. Very few, if any, of them would be ready for the kind of high-stakes assassinations they would need to pull off. Kieran leaned back in his pew and crossed his arms, fighting off the urge to shiver in the cool, moist air. "Do you know when and where they'd sign it?" he called to Cassian. He assumed somewhere in neutral territory, some place not affiliated with either kingdom. That could add another complication to the plan. If the signing took place somewhere remote, then just getting there would be its own problem. Or the kingdoms could keep the location a secret in anticipation of something just like this. The idea of dragging along the Acolytes continued to nag at him, though. He didn't want to have to babysit and try to focus on carrying out such an important assignment simultaneously. He generally steered clear of them for that reason, and they were usually so intimidated by their superiors that they didn't approach him, either. Perhaps it was because he could barely remember his time as an Acolyte. He'd joined the syndicate when he was just a kid - fifteen or sixteen, if he recalled correctly. He had been orphaned at eleven, when his parents and siblings had died of a fever that spared him for some sick, twisted reason. He spent the next four years in some rough places, doing whatever it took to survive, until he was recruited into the syndicate. The room buzzed with low voices murmuring to one another. They would fall silent again as soon as Cassian spoke, Kieran knew, but it was interesting to hear what everyone around him was saying and suggesting. He hoped someone else would pipe in with another idea; the idea of the syndicate's entire future and wellbeing resting on the first thought that had popped into his head made him feel a little queasy.
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Mavros Kerridge | M | 26 | Acolyte | Mentions: Cassian {ind.}, Kieran {ind.}, others {ind.} Fate, Mavros had decided on in the presence of the church before him, had an interesting way of expressing irony. Places of worship have somehow become a staple in pivotal moments of his life, though this one, he hoped, was to be his last. Not even raised under a religion long forgotten by this land did Mav ever feel a particular connection to any divinity, higher powers, or cosmic intelligence. He found no comfort in the tales of beings living in the sky above, and if there ever had been, surely whatever divinities that could have existed are long dead. Though maybe the Syndicate itself was more of a twisted variant of religion. It seemed more like an unorthodox religion, actually, considering its own rituals, beliefs, and hierarchies. It offered a sense of structure and purpose to everyone who joined and was expected to dictate their lives by. Throwing a glance upward to the tangerine-tinged inferno that had engulfed the sky, Mav cleansed himself of pointless thoughts and traded them in for a lungful of air before he passed through the threshold of the door. Mindful of not making too perfect of eye contact with anyone in particular as he silently seated himself a few pews behind more or less familiar faces, Mav couldn’t help but find himself studying the body language of those already seated, and anyone else who had trickled in after his own entrance. There was little incentive as to why such a large gathering had been called judging from Cassian’s stature alone, and by the attentiveness of everyone else he had a visual on, Mav was satisfied to conclude that he wasn’t the only one in the dark at the moment. Not that it was necessarily any more comforting to be in a room mostly filled with killers, but he supposed as long as he never became an object worth killing to the Syndicate and its people, he had little to fear while living among them. The atmosphere that seemed almost too heavy for the church itself to withstand became a testament to the news Cassian had begun to divulge to the group. The work of processing the weight that the information of the treaty brought was done for him, as Mav observed from the spike in dread and otherwise concern that had begun to circulate. Thoughts of his own hadn’t begun to churn until Cassian had directly laid out how his own life could be impacted by the treaty, and suddenly the heavy gravity in the room weighed on him as well. Leaning forward in the pew he sat in, Mavros listened carefully to the idea that Cassian had proposed. He had no experience in going through the efforts of covertly poisoning someone, but he did understand the precision required to pull off anything that would impair the event of the signing to take place, no matter how it would have to happen. Group efforts were not Mav’s specialty, but there had been times in his life when he needed to be in kahootz with other equally ambitious thieves and criminals for the sake of obtaining things impossible to grasp at alone. Of course, there was absolutely no honor among thieves, and Mav had personally sold his allies short for his own gain on one or two occasions. However, he knew better than to even consider the idea of pulling one over on both the Syndicate and its members. Not when it was in his better interest to devote himself entirely to the Syndicate and its well-being for the sake of preserving his own. Inclining his head enough to look at the back of Kieran’s, Mavros took his insertions of ideas into the air and began spinning a web of his own ideas in his head. Mav liked to think he was better acquainted with the pragmatics of risk and reward than most, and he weighed such thing with Kieran’s proposal while considering his own. Even if the signing happened to be months in advance, at best, Mavros was still only good for the things he was recruited for to begin with. He was not a true assassin, not yet anyway, and yet he still felt the need to maintain his value, or risk being another thing in these people’s way. "Not that I have much experience with orchestrating schemes of this scale," Mavros began tentatively, trying not to shift too uncomfortably in his seat from his own sudden vocalization, "but if these kingdoms are so desperate for a peace treaty, we might be able to exploit their pre-existing animosity to our advantage. Personally, if I were anyone with value in either kingdom, I’d already be bracing for sabotage from my former rival during the signing. And - while it might sound a little counterintuitive at first - stirring up these fears and putting these people on higher guard could be for our own ultimate benefit. If we get a head start on properly inserting rumors and gossip about potential betrayals and reservations in the right social circles, we can more or less control the growth of mutual suspicion the kingdoms probably already have for each other. That way even if they go through with the signing, their paranoia could serve as leverage for us." He paused, briefly contemplating his own approach to the situation, then continued, "Hypothetically speaking, a smokescreen tactic could work in unison with the pre-established setup of suspicion between them. If we did manage to infiltrate the signing and created a significant diversion - something chaotic enough to pull everyone's attention taut -. that might give us an opportunity to take out important figures from both kingdoms, all while making it appear as if loyalists from each side were responsible for both the chaos and assassinations." Clearing his throat, Mavros added with a thin smile, "But of course, I’m still learning the ropes of . . . all of this. So the logistics of my ideals could be a bit wishy-washy." He glanced away, trying to hide his mild unease behind a facade of casual confidence. Most of these people lived and operated on stealth and subtleties, but Mavros had also found success with survival through theatrics and loud displays. People, he’s found, tend to look where one directs them to. If one is capable of utilizing both distraction and betting on a herd mentality, then chaos is more structured and easy to manipulate than it looks to be on the surface. Then again, this was no operation he had any exact experience in compared to his fellow Syndicate members. But even if his own ideas were spit on and tossed aside, he could learn how to think like them through this. Overall, this was still a great opportunity for Mavros to learn from everyone around him, because one day, he was bent on completely becoming one of them. Edited at July 30, 2024 12:14 AM by Edling
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Lightbringer
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Vixen Nightshade alias: Angeline Jane Howard | Female | 21 Years | Acolyte | Mentions: Cassian, Draven, Sylphiel (ind.) Vixen looked up at the rickety dilapidated building hoping it wasn’t quite as bad on the inside as it was on the outside. Although it was a hideout, in her experience buildings that were so obviously rotting on the outside were worse on the inside where the rot was harder to spot. She smoothed her cheap green woolen dress trying to calm her nerves. She had changed into something plain so that she did not stand out amidst the band of ruffians she had attached herself to. She touched the door frame as she went in and a bit of rotten wood fell off into her hand. She hoped no young excited males ever ran through jumping and touching the top of the doorway proving that they were tall enough or skilled enough to touch the top of the doorway. She could almost swear such a violent movement would shake the whole church and cause it to collapse. It was not much better inside and she still wasn’t confident that it wouldn’t collapse on their heads. Hopefully, Black Lotus meetings didn’t get too loud and rambunctious as people debated. She found a seat in a pew near the aisle and gingerly sat down trying to make sure it could hold her weight and she wouldn’t get a splinter in an awkward place. She hoped sitting close to the pew's support would mean it would be able to bear her weight. She had seen other Syndicate members sitting, so she assumed it would hold her weight and it was what was normally done. She sat down an aisle behind Draven as he was the first member she could recognize and she did not trust one pew to hold both of their weight. As an Acolyte, she had not been here before and Draven had had to come immediately back to fetch her for the meeting. As she got used to the eerie setting she started to see some beauty in the old church such as the patch of moss growing on the floor in the corner. In another, she squinted her eyes hoping those weren't actually mushrooms. She wondered what religion had been worshipped here and if the Syndicate’s tenets had any carryover. She watched the meeting progress unsure if she, a lowly Acolyte, was allowed to speak. She knew much of what Cassian said because she was as far as she knew his main source of Kraegiosan noblemen politics. She felt her stomach start to twist and churn at the thought of stopping politics in her own kingdom. So far she had only observed and helped assassins into place to manipulate the politics. Now, she was getting the opportunity to make a difference.She waited to see what the temperature of the audience was and what was normal. Finally, she got up the courage to speak after a few ideas were laid out. “The treaty will be signed in six months. There needs to be time for travel of dignitaries and preparations for the ceremony and celebration. They are going to sign in Kraegios at the capital city Gasper. If we need some to infiltrate I could get some Syndicate members to work as servants and then offer them as help for the preparations.” She wasn’t actually certain of that, but she wagered she had a good chance and was willing to gamble. “It is true. The nobles of Kraegios do not trust Rayong, but with the treaty, it will be clear when someone commits a crime against the other. They’ll have a law and an agreement to enforce instead of constant hostility everywhere. I do think that raising up the old misgivings is a good idea. There are plenty who are not pleased with the treaty where it be that it was formulated at all or they wish a different treaty had been written, but I think the commoners of both kingdoms are tired of the constant feuding and assassinations. They want peace and the politicians are going to try to give it to them. They fear an uprising.” She spoke with confidence that joining the Syndicate had given her and being highborn should have instilled in her. She would not have been able to address a foreign group before. She knew that Cassian had kept her far away from Syndicate politics or at least being able to observe them for herself, but she was curious. He was the leader. They were supposed to obey him implicitly, and leaders she had heard normally did not ask their subordinate for advice on how to run a mission. He was. What was going on that she did not know? She had expected to come here to listen to Cassian’s plan, not have to help build it. He wasn’t even framing it as a test. Well, maybe a test if he’d keep you around alive, but more because he was testy not because it was a test. Her eyes widened as she ruminated on what she had said out loud. The people’s desire for peace was a big push on the nobles to finally form a treaty. They were afraid of rebellion, although they would never let a commoner know that. She said her thoughts out loud. “I realized that I said what we need to do. As long as the noblemen feel that their people want peace and might revolt they will probably feel forced to continue with the treaty. The commoners are tired of continuing to starve and die as they are drafted into armies and die untrained, or armies trample their field and they are forced to starve because their meager supplies are ravaged. There is also the heavy weight and cost of war through taxes. We have to find a different way to relieve these things and perhaps cause a rebellion where the commoners want this different solution." She went silent for a moment hoping her words weren't foolish. Perhaps someone had a better idea. "What if we used to religion? The biggest scam this kingdom has ever seen. We could spread a prophecy. Something about the treaty being the end of civilization as we know it," she mused. Well, her ideas might be far-fetched, but at least she was being creative and bold she might add. She hoped that Cassian had the sense to not denigrate his members who were giving ideas when some were silent, including his deputy who probably should have come to this meeting with a plan if she knew what was good for her. Not everyone knew beforehand, but she assumed Cassian would have told his second-in-command. This was a brainstorming session. He needed to let people say stupid things so they could work through to a good idea.
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Neutral
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Draven Facilier|M|24|Disciple|Mentions: Vixen (dir) Other Members (indir) Draven's mind was anything but empty as his steps led him down the familiar trail to that old, rotting building. The light of day had just barely begun to show, filtering ever so gently through the trees. His pair of steps were not the only ones echoing quietly in the space around him, for along with him followed a somewhat new acolyte and valuable asset to the Syndicate; young Vixen Nightshade, daughter of a noble in the kingdom of Kraegios itself. How delightfully messy it was to have such inside information...
The young Disciple was a man of very few words, even more so when it came to conversing with the young female acolyte. Following her recruiter's (and one of his closer friend's) death, Draven had regrettably been assigned the task of being her handler, which unfortunately entailed spending more time with her alone than not. He'd hardly spoken a word to her throughout their journey here, and his expression was one of tired determination. He'd been up all night, practically serving as a goddamn message and retreiver boy. I thought it was an acolyte's job to relay such informations, but no, of course I must be assigned to the one welp who can't even do that majority of the time. He grumbled to himself. The smell of rotted, dampened wood filtered in through his nose as soon as the old rickety church came into view. Draven stepped rather gracefully over fallen branches and overgrown ivy that coated the old worn path up to the doors. He carefully opened it, stepping aside to let Vixen inside first before breezing in behind her. For the moment, only himself, Cassian, and Sylphiel were here. He glanced up to their leader, his stride unbreaking as he passed by Vixen, taking a seat in one of the pews. His fingers looped into the hood of his cloak, removing it from his head before bringing his hands to rest in his lap. It wasn't long at all before other members began to filter inside, and he could hear the pew shifting and creaking behind him as he assumed Vixen was finally taking her seat. Draven's gaze had not drifted from Cassian, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive and take their seats. Finally, the Syndicate leader's voice calmly echoed within the old church walls, explaining the very information Draven himself had just relayed in the midst of the night. It wasn't any less terrifying to hear it a second time. He was sure he wasn't the only one to feel the heaviness that seemed to coat the air as Cassian finished speaking. When the floor was opened up to everyone, Facilier remained silent and stoic as always, his hazel gaze drifting quietly to look at Kieran as his fellow Disciple spoke up. His brow furrowed slightly, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of dragging along the acolytes or working in a big group at all, for that matter. He knew his fellow man well enough by now to know that he probably felt similarly about it, and would be hoping for others to pipe up. Thankfully, they did. Draven shifted in his seat to cast a glance at Mavros, another new recruit and acolyte. At first, Facilier found himself annoyed at the other man for speaking up before even the deputy had said her peace, but the irritation quickly subsided upon listening to him. He had many fair points. As he finished, Draven's eyes narrowed only slightly in thought, taking a brief moment before speaking. "I find myself agreeing with the idea of a smokescreen tactic," He said carefully, slowly, his voice rumbling throughout the quiet space. "Chaos, as dangerous as it can be, may not be as risky as trying to be covert and stealthy with it. Creating some sort of mass diversion under the guise of loyalists could prove useful. The animosity between both kingdoms is still present, and if I know anything about people, it always will be regardless of if a treaty is signed or not. That's all the advantage we really need." His attention was turned to Vixen as she too began to speak, the first words she'd said since arriving. As much as his irritation towards her burned, he couldn't help but understand she held the most valuable information in the room. It bugged him that their fates rested pretty much on her shoulders, and they were just supposed to trust that whatever information she gave them was coming from a place of loyalty to the Syndicate and not to her kingdom. Draven wasn't quick to trust, especially not quick to trust someone like her. But he had to admit...if what she said was true, perhaps a rebellion wouldn't be such a bad idea after all... He shifted his gaze back to Cassian, wondering if he or the deputy would speak on matters for themselves. Edited at July 30, 2024 12:43 PM by Caribou Creek
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Cassian Amaris | Male | 36 | Leader | Mentions: Vixen, Mavros, other members (indirect) Cassian thoughtfully heard out the ideas of his subordinates. He expected that most of them would be subpar, but what was particularly important to him in this instance were their perspectives from different sections of the syndicate. Of course, he valued the Disciples’ opinions higher than the Acolytes, but they both had different enough roles for it to inform how they would see the matter. It would be interesting, incredibly interesting.
He waited for the chatter to die down somewhat before speaking. “Six months in the city of Gasper…” He addressed Vixen’s words first. “That is plenty of time, at least. We can work with that.” Cassian didn’t seem visibly concerned at all. If anything, he appeared to be at ease. “I suppose we could supply those who wish to rebel with the manpower and materials to do so. We’d need to do some snooping around though, to make sure we wouldn’t just be falling into a trap. Religion is also a possible method, yes, but far more difficult for us to control unless we manage to take over an existing church,” He looked around briefly and laughed. “A church that is not currently in a state of ruin, I mean.” He now regarded Mavros’ idea. “A smokescreen tactic, hm…depends on what the diversion is, I suppose,” He tilted his head a little. “It would have to be something big and showy enough to make the risk of operating so openly worth it. Like…” He paused for a moment. “....A fire. Arson could be easily pinned on Reyong if we played our cards right, and we could find ways to trap members of the Kraegios royal court within the flames. It would be dangerous for us too though, being caught up in the fray and all. If anyone has any alternatives though, I’d be simply delighted to hear them,” He shut his eyes lightly as he finished his sentence, feeling somewhat lightheaded. He opened them again after a few moments, returning his gaze to the crowd. “If anyone else has any ideas for different plans, please continue on as well,” He gave a slight wave of his hand to silence the crowd’s low chatter.
Cassian’s body felt heavy, his throat horribly scratchy. He hadn't felt his best all day, yes, but it had only gotten worse as he spoke. He sighed quietly, hoping that his subordinates would not have noticed, or at least thought nothing of it. He knew he was a sheep among a den of ravenous wolves, it had been that way for quite some time. One slip up and they’d tear him to shreds. His expression was peaceful as ever, as he now leaned against the lectern. "It would be wonderful if we would be able to prevent the ceremony from happening at all. A lot less dangerous for us,” He mused to the crowd. “Perhaps that should be our first course of action, and if that falls through we move on to interrupting the event itself. Sowing discord among an already uneasy kingdom should not be difficult, at least. We could spread rumours on the side of whatever our main plan is about the failing judgement of Kraegios’ ruler, that should not be too difficult with Acolyte Vixen on our side…or perhaps use common superstition to our advantage, the previous idea of religion could work too with some careful strategy....” His voice trailed off, he looked away from the crowd now.
“Thank you all for your contributions thus far as well, your input helps contribute to the future of the syndicate,” Cassian reaffixed his gaze on the crowd a few seconds after speaking. He was turning up the pressure a little bit, hoping to distract from his current frailness. Edited at August 3, 2024 01:27 PM by silhouetteissleepy
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