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[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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It felt good to be in the dryness of the desert. Several months and nearly a century had passed since the Boss had dragged him from Stonegate. His increasing boldness had changed the region's politics for the better. Lately, it was not so uncommon for the Old Drow to speak to more than a few others who came seeking this mysterious "Drow Lord".
My old friend. Possibly the oldest that still remain alive. Still cunning and pragmatic. Ambitious and driven.
Alaundril, like most others that were displaced by the recent chaos, had found his home here at the Double Dagger Inn. The century spent in the Abyss did not come without a cost. While The Boss returned to the material plane a good deal younger, Alaundril had ended his seventh century of life. The old wounds, countless wounds seemed to come back to haunt him. He had taken to using a cane around the hotel, because of an old wound that was desperately trying to cripple him.
Weakness. There are ways around such things...
He was busying himself in in the entryway to the small dusty establishment when he heard footsteps outside on the porch, unfamiliar footsteps. As he turned, the door was opened by an old grizzled man with a weathered red hat atop his grayed head. After exchanging pleasantries, Alaundril could swear he had met this old Captain before. "Cap'n Brutus Fryd at your service. My son, Ben once worked for your company." Alaundril smiled vaguely and nodded in understanding. "Ben...a good employee. You now wish to be under the employ of the Double Dagger Inn." A captain was something that he could not decline, considering what the Boss was asking of him.
"What do you know of the Buccaneer's Den? Mr. Fryd?"
"My ship is anchored near there, I can transport us and we can approach if you like?"
Alaundril nodded and began walking outside onto the front porch, Captain Fryd followed him and shortly after they stood on the deck of a large ship, an island was in view. The sea breeze caught him by surprise. The glare from the sun caused his eyes to sting...good thing it was setting. Soon, night would be upon them and he would be in his element.
"Bring us close, the Boss is very interested in the potential of this place. We will establish a tentative base upon landing. I will venture into the town and keep watch on the locals."
Captain Fryd's ship cut swiftly through the waves on it's approach to the island and soon they were standing on the shore, hidden by the trees and the tangled jungle.
"Hold here Mr. Fryd. I will return in due time. Make camp and keep the ship safe.."
The old Sea Dog tipped his hat and nodded. With that, Alaundril shifted into the shadows of the trees. Silent. Unseen. The trademark of his kind.
Alaundril made his way around the perimeter of the town, watching the peasants rushing to finish their last bit of chores for the day. There were others however that seemed to have other motives. He watched from the darkness as the plainly dressed people patrolled a large house. Their expressions, their walk it all looked too trained. Too exercised. Then he saw it. A young man approached the double doors, he was stopped by two people that Alaundril had not seen in his initial approach. A brief exchange of words...a handshake.
Interesting. A fledgling thieves guild perhaps? Soon they shall know who is their new Boss.
This was all so familiar, the thrill of the hunt. The chase. The old assassin was very patient this evening, he waited for hours, watching the patrol. It wasn't until the late hours of the evening that Alaundril felt comfortable enough to make his move....now was the time.
Obedience must be garnered immediately. Resistance will be punished with the blade.
Alaundril stepped from the tangles of the jungle just outside the large house, approaching openly and in plain sight. After watching these amateurs for the last few hours, he was quite confident that they would pose no threat.
"Hey, you can't come in here. Less you know the password."The boy packed his fist, in some vain attempt to intimidate him. A pity...he was an idiot.. It seemed one of them was in charge. The other one remained silent, watching the black garbed newcomer.
"Password?"
"Yeah old man...." The boy fell silent as the two piercing red eyes looked at him from beneath Alaundril's hood.
"Here's my password."
In the blink of an eye, the old drow whipped his Kryss from it's hidden spot beneath his cloak, instantly drawing a neat line across the brave, yet foolish rogue's neck. He stepped once, the kryss whipping over to the unsuspecting second guard, it buried itself in his throat. Both died without making a sound. Alaundril looked down at the bloody crumpled bodies at his feet then to the door. He could hear soft footsteps inside, he could hear a lock slide shut.
"Wow."
Captain Fryd walked into plain view grinning at Alaundril.
"You were supposed to stay with the ship."
"I have a hard time following orders."
The old drow frowned and motioned impatiently to the double doors in front of him.
"Then make yourself useful and get these doors open."
The Captain grinned and nodded, weaving the magic of an explosion spell. Alaundril stepped back and watched as the spell was finished. The explosion easily torn through the doors.
Alaundril walked in through the rubble, the sounds were frantic now. The foot steps of an unfortunate stopped immediately as his weapon was slapped away, a thrust from the drow's Kryss ended his resistance. As he walked into the main sitting room of the manor, he could hear the excited voices of the others in the other room. "You're dead!" The assassin turned to the right, seeing a pair of larger men approaching him.
"This is your chance to surrender. Lest you join your friends." His hood had come back, showing his stark white hair and his black skin. He pointed his Kryss purposefully at them, staring at them coldly. They gave each other an odd look hesitantly before approaching, their crude blades out front.
Alaundril sighed. These fools would learn. If not them, then their comrades when they returned to his blood bath.
"If you wish to die. Then I will expedite your request. You will learn soon who your Boss is."

[Gorhun Morchiant]

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Propping his feet on the cluttered desk, the Drow Lord looks contemplatively out a nearby window.

“Uncle, what is our purpose with exploring such a place?” Olath asks as he examines a map.

“We have already spoken of the reason…much trade moves through the surrounding waters….” Gorhun responds as his mask changes from grey to yellow.

“And…I do hope you bring news from Alaundril…” the Drow Lord says calmly still gazing out the window.

“I have no news yet m’lord…I assume he will contact you personally,” Olath says while treading backwards, anticipating an unfavorable reply from Gorhun.

“I grow impatient…the old drow better be making progress…” the Drow Lord says sharply as his mask fluctuates from yellow to red.

“Now…leave me… see what is locally known of the Maritime Union…I hear an old acquaintance of mine plays a part in their affairs….” Gorhun says as he sits upright again and begins reviewing documents.

[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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The time spent quelling the resistance was short. Most of these fools in this "theives guild" were barely of age. Filthy and dumb. As only a human could be. The sun was beginning to rise now and Captain Fryd had long retired. Alaundril however, was on a different type of schedule. He sighed softly and held a cloth to his nose, looking at his handiwork in the growing morning light.
Such a shame I had to kill every last one here....perhaps those who come to their safe house will heed the wonderful decorations I have provided.
The smell was almost sickening. Fear was sometimes the best medicine for obstinate slaves. This was no different in this pit of filth called a town. The locals should thank him for ridding them of their oppressors. A slight grin played across as he looked at what they called "The Pirate's Den". The walls were smeared with the blood of his victims. How many? He wasn't sure...
Already, even in this early, he could hear the vultures calling overhead, they were eying the body parts he had scattered near the building, they smelled the death. There was one left he had not completely killed. Someone needed to be at least alive enough to tell others who had done this...
He hung there now nearby, in plain view. His body cut in all different sorts of places, slowly the fool was bleeding to death. The biggest of them knew who had done this. He knew what criminal organization now ran this sorry excuse for a town....Alaundril made sure that the entire populace knew. They could smell the death and see the punishment for disobedience.