What the Stranger Knows.

[The Hellbug]

Spoiler: From recruitment

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Ennius, who has so far been reading comfortably in a high-backed chair not far from the fire, lowers his book and speaks up. "Old Art's a cheat, you know," the half elf warns over the rims of his reading glasses. He sets the spectacles and book aside. Neither is strictly necessary, the book being only a collection of entertaining tales and the glasses merely to reduce the stress on his eyes in the dim light--they had been a tip from an elderly scholar and Ennius fancies them, imagining that they make him look academic and dignified, which he further imagines he needs to impress the present company.

"An enchantment on the dice, I believe," he continues, "harmless most of the time but able to be invoked to force them to land the house's way at the critical moment. Or--" Ennius pauses and smirks "--his patrons are just extremely unlucky. Funny that all that winning can be undone in one moment--or done again, in your case." The warlock tips his head respectfully towards Tedras. "I don't know how you managed that. I've never personally met a troglodyte, but every account I've heard is that the stench is absolutely unbearable."

"I'm afraid my luck's always been towards the former." Ennius shifts in his seat, clears his throat, and takes a sip from the goblet of wine on his side table. It's obvious from anyone who's spent any amount of time with him that there's a story coming. "I was involved in a scheme once, not strictly a gamble but not so far off, to swindle of man out of a large amount of money. I had a plan for the money at the time, but it clearly wasn't important since I can't recall it. Regardless, the target was a lord as miserly as a dragon--he loved his coin so much that he had each of his servants wear a pair of them on a necklace so that he could hear them cling cling as they went about their work--so that was reason enough. And friend of mine had found her way into his service, not by choice, mind, and had covertly sent a letter asking for help escaping. We had worked together before and there were some bad feelings about how it had ended but we were still acquaintances. That's another story."

Seeing that his long-winded table-setting is beginning to lose the room's attention, Ennius forges ahead. "Anyway, there were good reasons for me to be there. So, the stealing. First, I called in a favor from a wizard who owed me to cast a spell over the lord's manor, a subtle one that wouldn't do anything. Yet. Then, I snuck in and started a fire in the stables, which spread to the the manor. The lord panics. His servants are fleeing--remember that each of them has the two coins around their neck so they'll be well enough off for a while--and there's no one to fight the fire and his riches are at risk. Enter Ennius." The half elf spreads his arms and bows his head magnanimously. "I suggest that the house is already ruined, but that, if he were to smash the wall of the levy, the water could save his wealth. Coins are waterproof, after all. He gets to paying some onlooking peasants--you should have seen the looks on their faces when he handed them the bags of gold--to do just that. The water races in, the fire goes out, and, just like that, when it touches the coins my owed spell is activated!"

He pauses for dramatic effect and enjoys the anticipation of each listener for just a moment but, inevitably, continues. "Every one of them turns into a fish! So there are gold and silver and copper fish swimming around in the pond around the burned house. All that's left is to meet up with my friend, wait for the magic fade at dusk and collect the coins in the shallows!"

The triumphant conclusion is undercut, though, by how the telling had begun. "Oh, my friend drugged me, took the money, and ran off," he explains matter-of-factly when it's mentioned that that sounds like a lucky ending, "or should I say wife? Later. Another story. It was days before I got the lord's goons off my tail." As usual, at the tale's end it's impossible to tell from the warlock's face if it's true, a fabrication, a delusion, or all three.

______

"No, it's an important question," Ennius solemnly assuages the gnome about her concern at being drugged, "although if you find yourself asking it too often, it may be a sign that you should seek better company. The answer tonight, I believe, is 'no'."

He taps his finger on his chin, thinking about the box and the name, soon arriving at the conclusion that he doesn't have the clues to puzzle it out. "As for the name, I haven't the foggiest," he admits, "every time I've worked with them, it's been with people like you all: seemingly pro bono, independent folk. Whoever, whatever is the mastermind behind all this and whatever's going through their head is a mystery to me. For all each of us knows, they could be standing in this room right at this very moment!" He stands up and raises his wine goblet. "I can, however, attest to the quality of their results that I know of, as can Tedras, here, on at least one count. And yes, to the quality of their lodgings as well. Speaking of which..."

Ennius tests the weight of the chair he had been sitting in before, as delicately as possible, moving it over towards the mantle to serve as a stepping point for Siobhan. "That's one problem solved," he announces with a satisfied grin.