The Gathering

A key turned, and in the gloom, a lock could be heard sliding open. Then silence. Despite their age and obvious coating of rust, the prison doors swung open noiselessly, and in stepped a short, cloaked figure. The two inmates were on their feet by now, and groping forward, found a parchment thrust into their hands. Nothing could be seen with any clarity, but as the magics began to stir, flaming letters appeared; bubbling and hissing on the page. It bade them thus.

"Follow the Light... I await you."

Then melding together like fluorescent quicksilver, they lifted into the air, illuminating their surroundings. The messenger was nowhere to be seen, and the satyr and Minotaur stood alone in the cool damp of the Waterdeep dungeon. They had been captured and imprisoned together for their failed attempts to impersonate other more "typical" races, and then beginning a brawl when entrance to an outlying pub had been denied. Here, they awaited sentencing, but being what they were, it was more likely they'd wind up as sport in the arenas. Whoever had found them had not only won their freedom, but their interest, so as the light began to waft away, they followed.

Near the city of the dead, Eclavidras was in her usual imperious mood. Holed up for three days, hiding, and why? She was a Paladin, after all, and where her sword found flesh, it was no stranger to the pact of slaughter that she was bound to. But by treachery her house had been slain, and she, along with her brother, had been the only two to escape Menzoberranzan. Now fugitives, and worse, hiding above ground! There seemed to be no safe places to rest. Her head silently jerked when the knock came at their door. "Ilmaradrin!" She hissed, and then began to speak in their secret Drow sign. The reluctance on his face was evident, but fearing his sister's wrath more than whatever could be on the other side of the door, Ilmaradrin went and cautiously opened it. "Males." came the spiteful hiss behind him. There was no one outside, and aside from a small breeze, nothing stirred in the dingy back alley that served as the street to their hovel. He turned to close the door and came face to face with the hilt of a dagger. A century flashed before his eyes before he realized that it was sticking in the door, holding a small parchment that fluttered quietly in the night air. He looked at his sister, and moments later, with their few meager possessions on their backs, they too followed the light.

They didn't have far to go. The orb darted here and there, but seemingly unaffected by the wind, and within a few minutes, they found themselves only a short mile away from their temporary home. The light slipped through a crack in the door to a larger building, and after looking around, they went inside. Having spent time on the plain of shadow, they were used to darkness, but what met them inside was almost oppressive. Shapes darted here and their as their eyes kept reassuring them that they would be adjusted in only another moment. Shuffling could be heard behind them, and as an orb of light passed between them, the sound of heavy hooves could be heard from behind. They met Nox and Vary's gaze with the same suspicion until a voice spoke. Rolling deeply through the room, it seemed to form the darkness into pictures of thought, as though the same tongue had some other Abyssal powers. "You have come at last. I am glad you didn't keep me waiting." The sound shifted upwards, and a clawed hand caught the orb, depositing it into a small jar as the speaker rose from his seat. "I need your talents, all of you. I have need of an artifact. This is my price for freeing you from prison..." In the darkness, steely black eyes cut through and looked at the two Drow. "...and I can pay any price, should you bring the artifact to me safely." The darkness only intensified the silence, making everyone jump when he continued. "Speed is of the essence. This relic must be retrieved tonight, and I have no one else I can request this of."
No further compulsion was necessary as the thought of riches and relics began to play across their minds. Eclavidras stepped forward. "What is it and where?"
A soft, amused snort caused the darkness to roil. "A parchment, kept in safe storage at the archives near the centre of the city. It is to be transported in the early morning, but before then, it is unguarded, and should pose no difficulty to get to." He paused, "At least, not for you."
The four eyed each other and then each nodded slightly. Eclavidras spoke again, "Very well, we accept your little 'job.'" The scorn in her voice was thinly masked, but the speaker seemed to pay no heed.
"Excellent. There is a fifth who shall accompany you. She does not speak, but has talents that you may find useful. Treat her well, and you will never fear treachery from her hand."
A rat crept from the shadows toward them, and slowly standing up on it's hind legs, grew into the form of a small, wiry girl in oversized armour. Her eyes, large with wonder. She chewed on a knuckle as she looked at each of the four, then, despite snorts and stamping, rushed forward and wrapped her arms half way around the Minotaur's stomach, sinking happily into it's fur.
"Her personality grew inward as she aged, yet her skill is exceptional. Now go, and return once you have the scroll."

Introductions made, all save Ryddle who stared and smiled dumbly at them all, they made their way into Waterdeep.