Evil Tales

The upper level of the Silken Tongue was a balcony that overlooked the common area. The area above was filled with large booths, effectively three walled rooms with long thick tapestry style drapery for curtains. The thick curtains did more than conceal those within from the gaze of others but baffled the voices within.

These booths were used for clandestine rendezvous and private shows for patrons and while the upper balcony was only for privileged guests a guard could also be assigned to stand before the curtain for additional privacy.

Assallya looked down into the rotunda below, at the servers delivering food and drink to the communal pits and the women dancing idly across the floor between them. It was early yet, nowhere near dusk, and the patronage mostly consisted of tradesmen making deals those and hiring merchant ships. These were those bartering for entire harvests, not petty trinkets. While this could be done in an office somewhere in the dock wards or the castle wards, those that wished to impress would bring their clients here.

One of the staff approached, whispering into her ear.

He was here.

There were two things that the blonde sorceress dealt with exclusively. That was the purchasing and selling of information and, representing her own, particularly lethal client. Assallya served as the front, the opening conversation for hiring an assassin that was growing in notoriety. Janella was an efficient killer and Assallya was quite pleased to be her agent. They made an excellent team. The blonde sorceress made contact, bartered prices with the tenacity of a rug merchant in Calimshan, provided support and got Janella closer than anyone else could. Then, Janella could handle the rest while Assallya made arrangements for her clean escape.

-and business was good.

The man come to visit was Zhentarim. Assallya didn't care for them. Cowardly, backstabbing lot with little care for loyalty or brotherhood but they were prolific. Like damn hydra, for every one of them that fell, two were clamoring to take their place in the hope of earning easy coin. They were currently at war with the Xanathar Thieves' Guild. One above in Waterdeep, the other below in Skullport and the two were both trying to edge in on the other's turf.

The staff member, clad in vest and sash that was Mulhorandi in cut escorted the black garbed man to her. Assallya was not impressed. The first rule of being a good rogue, at least unless you were actively breaking and entering, was not to look the part. The man look like a petty criminal. Black breeches, a dark grey tunic and a black mantled jacket with studded rings that was cut at mid thigh.

At least it wasn't a cloak...

The man had a dark greasy black mullet and possessed oily ringlets that fell across his forehead.

Assallya right hand brushed her heart, then her dark stained lips, before alighting to her forehead in the traditional Calishite greeting of respect. However, she also included a bow at the waist, not a full bow like those done before a noble, but a gentle dip. It wasn't Calishite but she liked to cover all the bases.

"Come," she beckoned him follow but folding her hands towards her bosom, "the booth is prepared."

Moments later they were inside and Assallya folded herself into a divan, tucking her bare feet beneath her and gestured at the assembled sweetmeats, iced mead in a pitcher and the hookah that was on a stand nearby.

"Greetings honoured guest," she welcomed him as she took a drag from the hookah and breathed out smoke.

"I am here to hire your assassin," the Zhentish man proclaimed without preamble, "It is time sensitive."

"The Assassin," Assallya reiterated in her mind. how she wished Janella would choose some "marketable" name for herself like "The Pale Hand" or "The Grym Man".

"It always is," Assallya assured him, "Lord... what?"

"Where is she?"

The blonde sorceress smiled, finding the question humorous. Instead of replying immediately she took another drag from the hookah and used her long, black manicured fingernails to come the long blonde hair back over her shoulder. The light from the candles caused the gold in her septum ring and the pierced earring chain that led up to an ear cuff to almost glow with the reflected light.

"I'm sorry," Assallya asked again, "Lord...?"

"I am no lord. They simply call me- Snatch."

Snatch? Assallya knew an adopted name when she heard it. She just had to wonder if it was one he chose for himself or one others chose for him that he couldn't escape. Still, he was being fairly demanding where it concerned seeing "the merchandise". While she didn't normally allow clients to meet Janella, she didn't mind unsettling this Snatch. After all, a confident Zhent is a Zhent that will stab you in the back.

"Oh, my dear Snatch," she said, "She has been here beside you the entire time."

What the poor Zhentish agent couldn't know was that Assallya had cast a simple invisibility spell on Janella quite some time ago. Sure, Janella could have been dangling from the ceiling or performed some other feat of daring do but why bother when a simple spell was so much more practical.

Janella usually rested during the morning, only requiring four hours of her meditative trance to feel rested and regain the use of her spells. She saw sleep as being inefficient, leaving one vulnerable. Even if she was tolerant for someone who had been ‘raised’ among dark elves, she still subtly looked down on humans. They were limited by their very birth, but she could not deny they had other useful attributes.

It was one of the reasons she enjoyed working with Assallya. Even if the half-drow’s tactile, dexterous hands could make almost any lock wield, or if she could wield magic and kill like it was an art, sneaking well enough that no one knew she was there until it was too late, she was still lacking in social skills. Trauma and long years of isolation between her life in the Underdark and being in humanoid cities had not left her with good coping mechanisms or interpersonal skills. She was working on it, but Assallya certainly made up for where she lacked, and she was also talented.

The two of them worked together well, pulling off kills that would stun the rest of the criminal community with their audacity or efficiency. Even if she didn’t perform assassinations often, most of her work being stealing, or just getting close enough unseen to listen to the right conversations, they paid the best. She watched, leaned against a railing and watching everything going on. Black eyes watched the Zhentarim man approach, judging him in much the same way that Assallya did. But he’d still pay. Walking over as their client started to speak with the other elf, she grinned with an opportunity to spook someone.

She was especially happy to spook this male who was unable to even give proper greetings. “Right here,” she said, dismissing the invisibility spell. Snatch jumped and flinched back. The half-drow was dressed in ‘casual’ clothes given she wasn’t about to head out on an assignment. All that gear was uncomfortable after a while. Janella dressed much like a man, a simple tunic and trousers with soft boots that quieted her steps. She wore neutral colors, usually brown or dark gray, though she did wear purple on occasion. Today her clothes looked like a mix of brown and green. Her appearance was like a foil to how well put together Assallya was.

Janella’s hair was tied back in a single braid, showing more of her ashen skin, the pale locks contrasting with her black eyes and making them look darker. “Who are you wanting dead, and how much are you offering,” she asked, both rogues sizing each other up. “How fast are you needing them killed?” She felt like she’d met one or two people named Snatch before, but this man didn’t remind her of either of those. It was probably a common enough nickname among thieves. Her words were neither rude nor polite, simply neutral. This man was a tool to be used, like most of his gender. She had one hand on her waist, the other dangling at her hip, there were no apparent weapons on her.

Those dark eyes looked into his own, ascertaining how much of a threat he was, and how useful he might be. Beyond the booth, business in the Silken Tongue continued as usual. Janella enjoyed assassinations the most. They presented challenges much of the time, strategizing, and she loved the thrill of the hunt. She also enjoyed working here in particular, not just because of Assallya but because of the atmosphere and comforts the place provided.

Snatch's eyes widened at Janella's sudden appearance. Taken off guard he reached for his blade, a simple, unremarkable dagger before his reckoning met up with him once more.

Magic. He despised magic. It was cheating.

Rutting elven bitches, he thought to himself.

The two of them reminded him of cats, languorous and soft but he knew cats; they were like coiled springs, not unlike striking serpents, only without the venom.

The Zhentish agent tried to look unbothered by Janella's suddenly appearance but the truth was in his eyes, the way his gaze had started shifting around the room, as if looking for further threats he hadn't accounted for.

"I though-" he began.

"The shade that walks would not be attending?" Assallya cut him off, "I am but her servant. The shade walks where the shade wills"

The answer seemed to further put Snatch off his stride as he looked at the drow woman that, according to others, could kill him before he saw her move and firnthe first time he believed it. It wasnt her poise; it wasn't her carriage; It was her eyes. They looked dead, absolutely bereft of emotion. They were a killer's eyes.

"I... uh...." Snatch resumed speaking, clearly unsettled, "It's not an assassination. I need something stolen. It will do much more damage to 'the' Xanathar and his guild."

He swallowed, growing ever more uncomfortable.

"Noska... Noska Ur'gray, a dwarf and Xanathar's chief enforcer is making a play for the Xanathar's favour. He has uncovered a number of soul stones, each containing a long lost soul, a veritable library of secret knowledge. WIth this knowledge he could well displace Shindria, their spymaster.

"What I wish," he continued, "What I need is to set them against one another. To erode what little trust the Xanathar have for one another. You can do this any way you choose. Steal the gems, plant them on one of the other members. Cast the blame. I don't care.

"We want to make a move on the Xanathar and would like them as distracted as possible."

Janella wasn’t at all concerned when he reached for his dagger, she was much faster than him even if he had completed the motion. She didn’t think of magic as cheating at all. Someone with her skin color was against the world, and she would use every advantage she could to win a fight. Every skill, spell and magical item she’d gained over the years had helped her get to where she was today.

She lifted a brow as the man explained what he wanted done, keeping her eyes on Snatch and seeing how increasingly unsettled he was getting. The mixed elf did nothing to reassure him, it was not in her nature and she liked to keep most of the people she worked with uneasy. Those who were nervous were less likely to try to double cross her.

This wouldn’t be the first time she got mixed up in the politics of other guilds. “What is the reward for stealing these stones and doing something with them that ensures that the rivals end up fighting each other?” The rogue did look intrigued with the proposition, causing trouble and potentially gaining one or two of the soul stones for herself sounded appealing. Janella couldn't recall hearing much about soul stones before, wondering if they were rare and esoteric or if they just didn't involve the kinds of things she typically dealt with. "And I'm guessing you want it to happen as soon as possible?"

Leaning a hip against the table, arms still crossed, she did look away from Snatch at times to gauge her surroundings. Checking for anyone trying to watch or listen, letting her gaze flit over the heads of any customers she might be able to see, and just because vigilance and paranoia had helped her survive in the past. It was an almost constant habit that she had learned, not to put too much stock into either her safety or privacy.

"Two hundred silver trade bars," the Zhentarim agent replied, "and a thousand gold's worth of various gems."

Assallya nodded. It wasn't a king's ransom. In truth, it was a paltry sum by many standards. Unless you were a peasant, of course. Then again, it was half of the purchase price of this very establishment they were in, or about the same price as a single, common, useful, magical item.

Assallya frowned at the meager amount. Then again, work had been scarce of late and Janella had been working more as a mere thug than performing the art that she was, indeed, a true artist of.

"Of course," he added, "Whatever you find on your journey is yours to keep. While normally we demand a percentage share of all wealth recovered by our agents be tithed back to the organization we recognize you are freelance operatives wouldn't infringe upon that."

Assallya, however, wasn't the one to make the decision. She believed that the Zhentarim were opening with a minimal bid, hoping to advance their position in the city with little or no risk for a mere trifle. Subtly, she moved her bejeweled hand in a furtive slicing motion, indicating she wasn't pleased by the offer. However, she wouldn't dare counter Janella's word in front of an outsider. Janella, to be taken seriously, had to be incontrovertible.

Janella didn’t bat an eye at the amount offered, it was a handsome amount but she didn’t feel like it was enough for what they were asking. She straightened from leaning against the table, arms uncrossing, unimpressed. Even if she knew that work had been scarce lately, she didn’t think it was so scarce she had to accept the first bid.

“Add fifty gems and some more gems, and I’ll ensure these two are killing each other within a couple of days. I understand costs must be managed but this is risky business and there won’t be time to gather information,” she negotiated. The rogue had not appeared to even glance over at Assallya before making her counteroffer, though from the corner of her eye she had picked up on her companion’s displeasure over the offer.

The mixed elf wasn't sure if this man had the authority to change the deal or not, or if he had been told to make a low offer that could then be bumped up. Janella was giving him an unsettling amount of scrutiny. She'd made more outlandish demands before, or tried to bargain with entities far more powerful and dangerous. This felt like a game in comparison.

The Zhentarim agent, Snatch, furrowed his brow. His mouth worked but nothing came out.

His confidence had evaporated. His original plan of intimidating the two had turned to ash before it had even begun. His eyes darted from one woman to the other, perhaps looking for something he could use. There had to be some weakness. All he received was two impassive, emotionless masks.

He could do it. He could tender the offer but if he did he was standing to make little more than a pittance. Then again, if he returned without hiring someone reliable to get the job done he was likely to be turned over to one of Cyric's templars for "re-evaluation". It was better to play it safe than to risk it all for a little extra coin.

"Fie and faugh!" the rogue spat out at last, "Very well. It shall be done. I'll have a cart sent over with the payment this evening."

Snatch felt the urge to hit something, to unleash his frustrations.

Janella looked at the man, staring and stone-faced as he gaped at her for a moment. If he had come in here and been more respectful, she would have been more amenable. The job offered wasn’t something that was beyond her abilities, but it was still somewhat demanding and she didn’t want to get a reputation for snatching up whatever low sum was offered to her. That, and if she pulled it off, she’d get the opportunities for more lucrative work if it became available.

She didn’t haggle any further, alternatively not wanting to seem too picky when there wasn’t much ‘work’ in the first place. “Expect their downfall within two days, then, a pleasure doing business with you,” she said, though her voice bordered on lofty and she didn’t sound like it had been a pleasure at all.

The rogue watched him as he left, wanting to be sure that he was out of earshot before she turned to the other elf, “Guess I was cutting into his own profits,” she snickered. “If he hadn’t been so fucking rude, I might have accepted it, or not asked for such an increase from the original offer at least.”

Assallya let her stoicism fall away as the Zhentarim agent was escorted from the premises.

She chuckled at Janella's comment, leaning back into the divan, and stared up at the rafters for a moment as she dwelled on the man's frightened visage. Assallya loved it when a trained killer tore a man down with but a look. She could perform such a feat herself, but that line, once crossed, could never be crossed back. She preferred it when people underestimated her.

"He's a fool," Assallya replied to Janella's comment, agreeing with her entirely, "and fools deserve to be fleeced."

Assallya reached out for the hookah hose and took a small puff from the bottle. Not enough to blunt her ability to think, of course, never that much lest she make herself vulnerable.

"He's a Zhent. He'll betray us at first opportunity. We showed him that he can't outwit us and that any attempt to do so will result in..." She paused for dramatic effect. "...consequences."

The blonde elven woman pursed her lips, brow furrowing. The real reason why she'd taken another drag upon the hookah was approaching. It was the part that Assallya didn't want to address. She knew little of the area of Skullport. Oh, certainly she'd read a great deal, everything that she could get a hold of, but that was raw knowledge. She knew maps, she knew hierarchies but that was nothing compared to what Janella had. She'd lived there. She'd worked there. Places had a life to them, subtle nuances, an undercurrent that played beneath the surface.

"Well," Assallya said as she brushed her several locks of her long blonde hair back behind her shoulder, and gestured with her hands, drawing them across her lithe figure, "I definitely can't go there like this."

The males up here were far too arrogant and brash for her liking much of the time. She enjoyed tearing any man down whenever and however she could, whenever she got the chance. All too often, she’d been seen as exotic or less-than by men and they often paid for it dearly. Any man who thought he might intimidate her was disappointed.

Her demeanor relaxed, she said, “He does know that he shouldn’t fuck with us now. Since he was too stupid to figure it out before.” If he did end up betraying them, then she would kill him. Janella rarely ever killed for free, but there were certain cases where she would.

“I’ll need to disguise myself as well, so that I’m not seen anywhere around the place. Xanathar’s guild isn’t new to its members killing each other off to gain his favor, but it’s best not to gain the attention of the beholder. Outside interference would be especially insulting.” She tended to use kits with various make ups, wigs and the like, or a magical object that helped to disguise her. “This dwarf will likely be in the main headquarters, the lair from which everything is controlled has an entrance within a tavern called ‘Guts and Garters.’”

The mixed elf paused for a moment. “There is another outpost that they have, a place close to the docks where slaves come in from the ships, and a lot of mages work there as well to help the slaves move on to the headquarters without being detected. He could be working there, if he is doing something like artificing or dabbling in this kind of powerful magic.”

That made sense. Assallya hadn't considered Janella being subject to repercussions. Then again, Assallya had little presence down below. It was also why she was feeling a little uncomfortable about the endeavor. What was a common laborer even like down there? They had to have bakers, butchers and taverns.

Normally she'd adopt a bakers's assistant or something keenly similar, something easily overlooked. There always was the possibility of coming the guise of a night hag.... nobody needed with them for feast of having their dreams invaded.

"So, the idea is that we need to go through the secret entrance in the tavern, into their lair, find the Dwarf, acquire the location from him or his office, without him being the wiser, then recover the crystals from where he's secreting them."

The wizardess placed the hookah's braided hose to her black painted lips and inhaled. She was considering other possibilities now, like if they should be delivering something to the Xans. The only problem she saw was what? Rush out and capture a shipment of slaves?

Oh.... oh no... she wasn't going that route... only as a last resort. Assallya realized that she, a golden, surface elf of her beauty would be worth an entire shipment of regular toiling livestock.

"That's a lot of unknowns, " the blonde eleven woman put forth instead, "I prefer a stronger plan but it looks like we may need to think on our feet. Is there anything else they might be interested in? I could try scrying and seeing what they're up to but they're likely warded. We do have several magical items we could pretend to be bringing to auction if that helps."

Assallya reached for the hookah's mouthpiece again and paused herself, blue eyes narrowing as she glaried at it. She realized she was using the smoke to calm herself after coming up with the idea of being "sold" again. She really want find of that idea.

"We could ask Charr to scout or keep watch if you'd like," Assallya added, a foolish, selfish, attempt to change the subject, "but we'd have to split the take further."

Janella did not pick up on any discomfort, not only due to mediocre interpersonal skills but because she was distracted with thinking over how much intel they should get before they went in. Past experience had taught her not to go in blind, one could never guess at what kind of trap or fighters their enemy might have.

“As much as I loathe having to split the take, we shouldn’t go in without even knowing if the bastard is in there. I’m thinking it’s most likely he is at the main headquarters, if he is this talented. We could always disguise ourselves as old women, as servants or other staff, though some potions or rings of invisibility would be useful as well. I’ll look around in my bag of holding and see what we have.”

“Once we’re in, we will need to think on our feet and the plan will almost certainly change. But we’ll need to get in, get the gems, perhaps create a distraction somehow to divert attention.” Looking over at Assallya, the mixed elf continued, “We’ll need Charr to be quick, we don’t have a lot of time. While she’s scouting, I need to do some of my own investigations and ask around about this Noska.”

"Charr is likely in his den in the loft," Assallya said as she glanced upwards towards the ceiling, "the small space, the warmth and the view all appeal to him."

Rising, she considered her options.

"I could consult my library," she added, "Though I think there's little in my notes. I've had little interest in Skullport other underdark beyond idle curiosity or rumors of lost treasures.

"That will be something I must remedy in the future.

"We could consider becoming lesser daughters of a drow noble house, eager to establish ties with the Bregan D'Arthe and, on impulse, decided to visit the Xanathar to explore trading slaves and goods?"

Janella took a couple of steps from the desk, pacing a little bit, “I can talk to Charr about going and figuring out a few things for us on my way out, unless you’d prefer to,” she said, starting to feel some of the excitement about taking on a job and having a new target starting to creep in. The mixed elf didn’t feel the kind of thrill she would have about killing someone, but this was going to be fun.

“I like your idea of being daughters of a drow house here for establishing ties and doing some trade just because they can,” she said. “It would be an easier disguise for both of us, and it’s a good enough reason that won’t arouse any suspicion. I could sneak away and go to get the stones while you distract them, maybe?” she asked. “We have some time to work out the details. Talk to you again soon?”

It was much easier to scheme whenever you had another mind that was plotting with you. The rogue was thinking over which of her contacts would be least likely to tell others about what was being asked about by who, and which of them would know the most about Xanathar. She frequently visited a lot of those that she traded information with, wanting to know about what was happening with different guilds, the authorities and the nobles.

Assallya nodded, accepting Janella's dismissal without compaint and retreated to her sanctum deep within the brothel. Seperate from her office the sanctum was her place she worked to control the city. It would be years yet but she was long lived. Her library contained a tome for each person of prominence for every person she deemed of import. Each tome described the person listed on the binding and in the index, how they related to those listed in other tomes. It was a map, not of people, but of relationships. It was an invisible web that bound each person to one another and she was incredibly better at picking at the strings.

In another corner, across a protective circle woven directly into a rug was a silver basin open a marble pedestal. It was her scrying dish and the secret to her budding success. This, coupled with hairs, nail clippings and the seed of men who used the brothel up above, allowed her to pierce wards and mystical protections and eavesdrop on the most privy of meetings. Each recovered bit of knowledge led to a several more, each parcel was added to her books, her living map of men and demons.

Drawing one tome labeled Xanathar from the shelves she glided over to a reading chair and curled herself up. The book was for from complete but she would review it anyways.

Janella went to speak with Charr, climbing up to the loft and seeking him out in his den. “We’re trying to find a dwarf by the name of Noska Ur’gay, he’s part of Xanathar’s Thieves Guild. Is he at the main lair, or is he at their quarters down by the docks where they get all the slaves? What are their defenses like? I’ll cut you in on some of the reward if you help out, maybe you’d like some of the gems that will arrive later this evening?”

Once she’d finished negotiating with the kobold, she set out to wander along the streets. Thrumming the strings of her web of contacts throughout the city, she snuck along unseen, either using invisibility spells or her own talents. She often circled back and checked for anyone following her, her paranoia had saved her more than once. Her contacts of interest were a mix of street urchins, commoners, thieves from other guilds, nobles and guards. She had ensnared them with either blackmail, bribery or favors. The mixed elf did learn some interesting details about Xanathar, filing them away in her memory so she could tell Assallya once she got back.

The rogue slunk in through one of the windows like some kind of insect, righting herself and casting off whatever enchantment that had been obscuring her form. She would have to take stock of her inventory and perhaps buy a couple of things that would increase their chances of success. Janella wanted to be sure she was well armed with poisons, a couple of scrolls and some potions before they ventured into the place. For now, she sought out Assallya.

The door to attic loft creaked open, revealing a surprisingly well kept room that looked fit for a child. There was a small bed, scarcely as long as as Janella's legs and a miniature writing desk. Beyond that, by the open window was an easel, an oil painting of the cityscape half finished on the canvas and the oil... she could smell the oil in the pain. It was fresh.

A chirp from above provided warning and the small black scaled kobold dropped from a rafter and caught himself with his small claws before he let himself drop to the floor with barely a whisper. Charr had somehow heard Janella climbing the stairs, or perhaps, even as the door opened he had sprung up to the rafters with lightning speed and grace, or perhaps he just smelled her. He was a kobold after all. Whatever the case, it was an impressive feat, for her tread, even when not sneaking was remarkably silent.

Listening intently he nodded at her request. His response was in the common tongue but it was still heavily accented and punctuated by clicks and subvocal growls and delicate trills. He was a loner, having few friends because, who really spent time with a kobold? As she continued describing what was entailed, providing her with details concerning Skullport he nodded gently as he wiped clean his brushes and carefully stored them. Unlike Assallya he'd spent some time there, finding it a fraction more accepting to his nature than Waterdeep was.

Janella looked around, climbing up into the loft, catching the door with her foot so that it did not slam out of habit. It was second nature for her to let the door slip gently until it closed. She was surprised to find that the room was neat, and that there was a painting. Her poor sense of smell allowed her to catch a whiff of the oil that was present. The drow looked up at the chirp, her gaze following him as he dropped down to the floor. She was impressed that he had heard her enter, a mix of her talents and an enchantment from her boots allowed her to move with silence.

She did know he might have smelled her, but she still thought it was impressive due to the odor of the oil in the room. Seeing him agreeing and putting away his brushes, she remarked, "I would not have guessed that you would keep your quarters neat, or that you'd be a painter," she said, looking at the rendering of the city's landscape. "I might commission you for one sometime." The mixed elf didn't have a lot of interest in friends necessarily, but she did like having a network of allies and informants. Charr seemed like he would be perfect for her intentions, and he had other unexpected uses. "What kind of price would you charge for a landscape painting?" Janella inquired, curious.

Charr continued cleaning his brushes, carefully wiping them to avoid damaging the bristles. He used the process to conceal his thinking.

Assallya might not always be around and he'd seen the way the local thieves' guilds operated. Rogues regularly jockeyed for supremacy and while Charr could handle himself he figured every new member would focus on him as the smallest to prove themselves.

He needed as many allies as he could acquire and he preferred not to make allies among heroes and the city guard. He was wary that they would push him to work against the other rogues and alienate both.

Janella would be a good ally and a good mistress, Charr decided.

He moved across the miniature room to his desk and lifted a wooden box with paper and charcoal inside. He needed that anyways for what Janella had requested. He'd often sketched people entering or leaving an establishment for Assallya to identify.

"Enjoy painting," the small lizard replied, in clipped common,"Will make painting for you. Good climbing. Can get anywhere. First sketch. Then paint."

Thr blonde elven woman glowered as she ran her long, nimble fingers across the surface of the enchanted waters in the silver basin of her scrying dish. The Guts and Garters tavern lay within the waters and Assallya watched each person who came and went, taking meticulous notes.

She was earns naught but the sheerest, softest of silken robes. Assallya preferred black, finding the contrast enhanced the perception of her moonlight washed skin. In Calimshan it had made her an exotic beauty. Here in Waterdeep it clearly declared she hadn't performed manual labor beneath the harshness of the sun in her life.

Returning her attention to the scrying dish the elven woman frowned. Unfortunately she couldn't scry inside the establishment. There were several forms of wards present. That's why she was trying to recognize one of the patrons. If that someone were to have also visited her brothel then she might have something of him or her, a bit of hair, a nail clipping, or even some recovered semen to bypass the warding. By adding a touch of that person to the scrying the wards wouldn't see an intrusion.

Still, it wasnt a total waste. Be seeing who entered and who did not leave she could determine which were patrons and which part of the Xanathar Thieves' guild.

Her qahwah had long gone cold and she carefully used a cantrip to warm it before taking a long draught and placing it back on a nearby table away from the pedestal. She really wasn't fond of the time constraints on this mission Janella had accepted. The blonde woman preferred meticulous preparation to flying with the whims of fate but Janella was the boss, or at least that was what Assallya needed her to think. Assallya facilitated the deals, Janella accepted them and Assallya got Janella as close to her target as possible.

While Assallya did her very best to ensure Janella had the best possible odds, dice occasionally came up snake eyes and Janella would eventually perish. When that time came... well... Janella had no heirs. If Janella wanted to push her luck, so much the better. Assallya just didnt want to perish with her and being dragged into a den of thieves wasn't her choice.