Charming, handsome and debonair. That is how many view Sauren Nightflame, leader of the elite Rogues Guild The Crimson Blade. But, beneath the polished exterior, a dark side lurks.
Victimised from an early age by some of the bigoted denizens in Cap...
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SPRING - YEAR 599
"Sauren! It is time."
The tone in his father's words instantly made the half-elf desist from the mindless frivolity in his chambers. The young man had been enjoying some last minute freedom with his trusted 'henchmen' before he committed to the young woman who would become his bride.
"I will be there in just a moment, father," he replied, slightly tight.
Sa'themar eyed his son and his friends, then with a grunt he turned and left the room.
Sauren sighed, a mixture of irritation and disbelief at being spoken to as if he were still a child. His father had got wind of how he had spent the last few weeks and no doubt last night. Although the Guild Master did not openly voice his disapproval, he nonetheless made it known in his disparaging looks and unintelligible grunts.
Of course, a fragment of the groom-to-be's agitation also stemmed from a degree of pre-marital nerves churning his stomach (although he would never admit to that). Plus, he was a little worse for wear as he and his friends had been whoring the previous night. They had fondled their way through Odette's prime stock; a gift from the Madame for his last night of bachelorhood. Don and Reed chose to remain with their elite ladies of the night but Sauren had slipped away to spend it with his favourite fruits, Maya and Leola.
He now had special access to the Keep, albeit still by a secret entrance. The Queen had deigned he could meet with the concubines in their chambers as long as he was discreet and maintained his side of the bargain to keep her informed on the ostentatious Dar'khan Drathir.
This he had done dutifully over the past three months occasionally writing to the young magus inquiring when next they might meet. He had penned that having given considerable thought to their earlier meetings, in particular, that of the grand opening for the Guild, he was now ready to discuss the 'vision' the young mage had spoken of.
Dar'khan's eagerness to comply turned out to be fortuitous indeed. The information Sauren surreptitiously gleaned from the vain mage bore some very interesting connotations, the measure of which he decided how much the Queen needed to know, and that which would benefit himself in later days. All in all, the 'arrangement' had proved fruitful for both parties.
But, for now, the big day had arrived - Sauren's wedding. His father had declared the complex closed for business for the three-day event and as such the trainees had ventured home for the duration. Only those attending the wedding would be present and of those, many would be going home at the end of the evening.
"You have the ring?" Sauren asked Don.
"Yes." His friend proudly patted his inside pocket.
The half-elf nodded and shrugged on his jacket. He smiled as he looked at himself in the mirror. Mr Atherton how out-done himself. The suit was exquisite; cream trousers with an azure piping down the outer seams matching that of his long-tailed, beautifully cut jacket. The fabric was unlike anything Sauren had worn before. It was a type of satin the tailor told him, though he was reluctant to divulge its particular qualities or origin; he did like to keep certain things under his hat did Mr Atherton.
