Masterminds

Falling Into Disgrace

AN: from here on, the narrator will treat The Dark Urge as a total amnesiac, so he doesn't remember Gortash nor the other two.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

"Milord, a notice from Moonrise Towers has arrived!" Sceleritas exclaims as he makes haste to your chambers. "That banite demands your presence there. How could they urge your vile self to cross a cursed land? The audacity! That plan of yours, master, arouses plenty of questions."

[Elegantly, posh even, the opening reads as follows:]

It is imperative for an assembly of both parties: Bane's Chosen and Bhaal's Chosen. 

A matter that may endanger further agendas arose in Moonrise Towers. Myrkul's underlings informed us of a disorder with the brain. Bhaal's Chosen's unyielding hold is thought to be the key to the subjugation.

A more thorough discussion awaits at the location of the issue.

"Manipulation requires that. Whether you are against it or not is none of my concern. It's crucial to instil his rule. He is licit, planning to keep his word until he sees a crack. But he won't anticipate it. I'll remain as faithful as he expects me to be. Hence, we ought to impose over that dominion, gathering vital knowledge. Ultimately, obliteration." you fold the letter, putting it in your pouch, safe from prying eyes. Ready to attend the summoning, you make a final revision of the document on your desk. 

"Setting that aside, today is a special event, so the menu has been tweaked. Brothers Rumm and Limm have gathered adequate prey. I don't want to hear innards being thrown away. If there are leftovers, use them for decorations. Or give them to Orin - she knows how to embellish. I hope she cheers up." standing up from that velvety chair, leaving the ledger on the desk. With quill and ink covered, you walk to the wardrobe to look for a suitable outfit.

"Are you considering standing by that shameless child, milord? Regardless of rumours spreading of Orin's imminent betrayal? I recommend acting as soon as possible. Why not cut her tongue and throw her into a pit, bog, or whatever you see fit? She would contemplate her impudence sooner or later."

"She won't. That addiction of yours is creating memory lagoons for pointing out the conspicuous. Let's talk about something else.", you stare, for a moment, at the mirror, the final touches to your garments. Then, you retrieve the ledger to check. "Send pillaged spoils to the funding - for the renewal of armour and weapons. They crave new toys."

"Pardon my arrogance. As for the funding, they will be delighted to receive the quantity. Sister Tonak came up with a fresh design for our ritual robes. In all their splendour, crimson cloth wrapping your body... Haaa... What a sight!"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After getting fed of his delirium, you find yourself in Moonrise Towers, waiting for the host. A familiar scent brushes your nose while entering the fortification. Every single aberration gathered and dressed as a follower of the Absolute. You take your sweet time supervising the Warden's procedure and the overall situation before reaching the meeting area. 

Ketheric's whereabouts are as unknown to you as the reasoning for having Hook Horrors as guardians. Then again, your gnolls aren't the sanest of creatures.

Every single gaze freezes at your murderous presence embedded in their bones. Any pretentious soul - brave enough to stand in your way - would soon be crashed against the cold daggers of your psionic prowess. You are godlike. You have an unyielding determination. Who could ever question it?