Tallis sat in the middle of the boat while the most of the others graviated towards the stern (or the old man in Crove's case). He let his thoughts wander back to his home in the mountians but quickly pulled himself back to reality, no point in fantasizing over the past that will never be again. The avariel walked over to the group of people around Amaran, arriving right on Crove's heels so he heard the mage's question and the other's answers to said question.

"I have a question for you, mage," Tallis knew the question he was about to ask could possible make things worse between him and the mage, but that would be difficult, as thier relationship was bad at best, hostile at worst. At least, Tallis hoped that their relationship couldn't get much worse, it would really suck it be burned to a crisp by a fireball so soon after regaining his freedom. "Were you always this way or did something do something to you to make you this way?"

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

At that moment the world stopped, Crove stopped and blankly stared at past Amaran, past them all, along the river. Who was he to ask such questions out right? Were they so annoyed by him that they had to bother to know? Did the avariel actually think he could change anything? Crove spun around on his heels to face the avariel, there was cold silence in his eyes as he eyed the avariel.

"Why would you be interested in knowing? So that you can help me eh?"

He inquired with a venomous tone.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Arielle couldn't help noticing the little exchange; she'd wager that anyone within two miles would notice. Time to settle things down a little.

She pulled the knife from her belt and twirled it idly in her fingers, slipping it back into its sheath as she drawled, "Well, now, and don't be gettin' all fired up over naught. In the spirit of bonding, see, we could all be using dirt on other folk. Gives us a sense of unity - you rat on me, I'll snitch on you. We'll go 'round the circle, then; I'll be starting."

The female mercenary leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "Allow me a tad, here ... ah, yes. I'm a hero for hire, you might say, and I've a certain fondness for true, cold steel." She shifted her hip, and the knife carried on it, to leave no doubt about her implication. "Slipped home fast as I could as a young'un; I'd connections. Had petty work for a few years, then came the Zentha Black Ruby affair." She paused, expecting that some of her audience would recognize the incident that, although less than five years old, had fast become legend in the underworld. She allowed herself a satisfied grin. "That was a thrill and a half, and no mistake, and I was set after that. So that's your hold on me; next."

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Jada unconsciously chewed her lip, sizing up the audience. She wasn't sure she quite grasped the implications of Arielle's idea - and indeed had never heard of this Black Ruby affair, being rather more concerned with her own well-being over the last seven years or so - but it unfortunately seemed to be her turn. Right. How much could she tell? Not the whole of it, certainly, as snitch and snitch alike or no that would be as good as suicide. Or would it?

Recklessly Jada leaned back on the railing and toyed with the hilt of her scimitar. "Ever been to the desert?" she asked of the general assembly, and didn't wait for an answer. "Might be educational, next you get the chance, to ask after a certain Jada Cobaltin. Careful who it is...certain personages would be displeased with anyone who mentioned the name, irked at having a past they think dead brought back from the grave."

She fell silent, arms crossed like a wall over her black tunic, and looked pointedly at Falch'nus next to her.

_________________

The exchange of life's stories did put Falch'nus on the defense, though he hid it reasonably well. Yes, he'd spent enough time in Luskan's prison to hear of the Black Ruby affair. Interesting how the story ranged with waxing drama from cutthroat to cutthroat. Next thing a poor mercenary knows, the ruffians'll be feeding bards' tales to little children.

He'd been to the deserts of Calimshan a few times and knew a bit of its nomadic tribes. Appraising Jada now, he wondered mildly at her so-called crime. She had the peremptory air of any Waterdeep noble.

Only when he found multiple eyes turned on him did he realize it was his turn. He shook his head and chuckled. What was there to say? Nothing epic about his life story - nothing that he cared to impart anyway. "I'm a bounty hunter," he said with a shrug. "I snagged the wrong head, ticked off the wrong pasha. A tragic tale you're likely tired of hearing." He shrugged again and fell silent.

_________________

"A wild elven half-breed and a sorcerer of human teachings, both facts were more than enough to condemn me in the eyes of the high elves that I had spent my youth with. I am an exile."

Began Crove who had sat down, leaning against the railing, farther from the group. He was currently sorting out all of the items that he had found on the orcs to be of some use to him, a couple of coins that the orcs had apparently stolen were of some value and mostly the rest were trash except for a piece of a map. Crove picked the piece of the map into his hands and hmhed at the fact that an orc had come to possession of such an accurate map. He gazed at his companions as they waited or didn`t for him to continue.

"And the rest is just one spiraled path to this point"

Crove said before tossing overboard some useless loot and gazing a the next with a inquiring smirk.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Ruthnak shrugged. "There's not much to tell, not that's interesting, anyway. For most of my life I've done just about anything to get food and shelter- thievery, con arts, assasinations..." He stretched his sore muscles and shrugged again. "Basically, my aim in life is to stay alive."

Amaran stared at the sky, listening to other people's stories. The pain in his belly had lessened, enough so that he could speak without gasping. A pause in the conversation told him it was his turn.
"I'm Lythari, as you all may have noticed" He started. "meaning I can change to wolf form at will. I started out normal enough, by Lythari standards, then joined wolf pack after wolf pack. After that I went back to human society, though I resent it now. I was accused of leading a wolf pack to kill a certain cruel noble and his hunting party." He paused, not quite sure of his next words. What he was thinking of saying would incriminate him beyond repair. He didn't have to say that the noble had brought along his 5 year old son, that the wolves had been told to kill every body, that it was Amaran himself who had, in his blood lust, killed the child without even realizing it. He could keep that hidden in his heart.
"Killed every last one of those tyrants, we did" he said, with hate that disguised his disgust.

So I can understand what drives you, Tallis thought in answer to Crove's question, and what not to do around you. Then his thoughts turned darker, and so I know how to hurt you the most. A few years ago, that would never have crossed his mind, but living away from his sheltered mountian village had forced him to face the harsh realitys of the world around him.

But he did not say any of those thoughts as Arielle spoke up before he could speak. He listened quietly to the others as they gave their storys, or at least peices of them. When it finall came to him, he considered lying but settled for the truth mixed with little half-lies and leaving some things to their imagination, a skill he picked up from his people. "I was exiled for killing another avariel in self-defense, although some thought it was a murder gone wrong. There wasn't enought evidence to convicet me of murder but not enought to prove it was self-defense so I was exiled instead of killed. I wandered, making my living hunting game for rich people to parade as their own, with considerable compensation to myself of course. Then I came to Luskan, where I witnessed a prisoner try to appeal the courst because a new peice of evidence came up that proved him inocent but the magistrate would not allow that evidence to come forward. So I broke him out and he escaped. I did not."

Tallis left out the part where he had slit the throats of two of the guards of the prison to allow the escapee to get out of the city. That still weighted heavily on him, but there was not need to give the others in the group unnessary leverage against him, the breaking th eman out of prison was enought.

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Kiana looked around, it was her turn it seemed. She sat straighter and sighed, "I killed my...a high member of the government, along with 3 others. It took me a year to fully build a strategy. But things went wrong. I was only supposed to kill him, the mortal didn't deserve to live." Kiana's eyes flashed angrily.
"I ran for 5 months and then was sentenced to jail, and eventually the death toll. And now I'm here. Not much of a story, but I'm happy to say the government is one less-or 3 less now."
Kiana smirked slightly, she was not ashamed of what she did. Her father abandoned her and her mother, he deserved to die. She wouldn't tell her company that it was her own father that she killed. She stared ahead a new flow of hatred shot through her.

_________________
<center>

[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

Crove chuckled as the last of them finished with their stories, he had not been aware that he had been surrounded by a such a talent group of killers or well the word talented should have been taken out. An eerie smile rose to the face of Crove as he unsheathed his short sword and examined it in the moonlight with a tired face.

"I wasn`t aware I was surrounded by a group of killers, but then again I expected it as you were put into jail, righteous or not, we all are killers and thieves nothing more. We do what we need to in order to survive, but.... truth is, I am not like you. I am separated from you by the fact that I am feared and respected for what I am... and you?

You are common thieves, travelers and mercenaries. I am not common amongst people and that is why I am not like you... Your stories tell of a struggle, mine never was a struggle, but a walk forward towards something"

He spoke with an amused yet disgusted voice as he saw them for what they were, weak and without power, trying to struggle to survive instead of being the point of surviving. Crove didn`t need to try to survive, he only wanted to achieve something and it seemed that with their help he might just be able to raise his name into fame. That was, if this artifact or the other contents of the vaults could grant him power. Crove stopped examining his sword and gazed at the Avariel, Tallis.

"Tell me Avariel why did you sacrifice your own freedom for that of another? Because he was innocent? What difference did you think you could make? Have justice? Luskan convicts and executes more innocent than one man can save so why save one man when there are going to be a hundred like him tomorrow?"

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

"What if that man had been you?" Amaran asked, speaking before Tallis had the chance to answer. "What if the life Tallis saved had been your own?" Amaran struggled to glance at the mage. "Don't tell me that while in the prison you did not hope to be free."

Kiana looked at Crove, "Just because we had struggle doesn't mean our purpose was any different. You're the same as us in my eyes Crove."
She spoke coldly so her point would get across. Her eyes flashed angrily as she glared at Crove.

_________________
<center>

[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

"Oh here comes the talk when you are trying to put me in the shoes of a man that the winged one would have saved? I couldn`t have been that man, ever because I was convicted for a reason and I would have never been caught for something I didn`t commit. The thieves guilds take care of their own and the guards know who they can touch and not, but in this case I was caught by mages, which so evidently made me beyond the thieves guilds reach...."

He explained with a confident smile as he sheathed the sword that he had been admiring and took more comfortable position, placing his hands behind his neck.

"And no my dear friends, I am afraid that you are not on my level because you must struggle and because you fear me, that was why you gathered into a little group with me outside? You are afraid of me because I know things and because of the power I have, you wonder who is this man working for and try to best determine what you should do to me.

Should you torture me in order to get information? Should you kill me and claim to the mages that it was an accident? I must say that I find it most amusing that you stench of uncertainty about your place in this world."

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

"I'm certain about my place in the world" Amaran replied. "I don't know why you'd think otherwise. Before I was sentenced I led a good life. I earned my living through hard work, so I had a roof over my head and food to eat. I'm proud of who I am. What about you, mage?" He questioned. The herbs he had been treated with were taking effect. He ast up slowly with a grunt. "As for me being wary of you...it is not fear that drives me away from you. It is your stench of superiority. You speak of your greatness, yet you are on the same exact level. Do not deny this. We all found ourselves in the same prison, with the same burden placed upon us."

"Life is short"

Crove retorted with a tired yet convinced voice as he eyed Amaran with clear disgust towards his unambitious attitude. Crove sighed and shrugged as it was pointless to continue the argument as they would never realize the prices that they might achieve. Yet he might as well correct one mistake that they always repeated in their words.

"And from this point on stop calling me `mage` for I am not a mage as I said earlier on, I am a sorcerer and between those two words lies a great difference. The mage we met has had to read dusty old tomes and books in order to gain what he has, for me it comes naturally and it flows trough my veins. I am not the same as them and never wanted to be."

Crove explained with a rather frustrated tone as they did not seem to understand the difference between mages and sorcerers or just didn`t care, brutes.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!