My first of hopefully many forum stories relating to ongoing or upcoming storylines. Let me know what you think to it. Any requests would be greatly appreciated also.
Keelen Sheets is an Elf with many dark secrets.
For a time longer than anyone bothered to count, Keelen had worked out of his father's shop located in the pokiest little corner of Silvermoon City's Bazaar district. Back in those days Keelen could be found spinning cloth into bolts or making fine embroidered designs into the numerous dresses and shirts they had to sell for hours on end. Times had changed since then, starting with Keelen Senior, going soft in his old age, deciding to try his hand at Engineering and met his untimely end when a Red Rocket Cluster got out of hand and shot straight up his- well, I won't divulge in the gory details.
In any event, Keelen Sheets inherited his father's shop, along with enough money to make any Goblin merchant rip out his hair with delight.
To the average customer, nothing appeared to have changed for the clothier. The shop was was still open for business, being one of the quickest to reopen after the sacking of Silvermoon City, and Keelen himself was ever present in the store, ready with a smiling grin and a suit made of fine purple fabrics to teach new tailors the finer arts of the profession.
The truth of the matter was slightly more sinister, and Keelen had used his late father's money for several of his...other interests. Now and again, people would notice odd characters frequenting his shop, an "apprentice" appeared to help him and his wife Deynna around the store and packages being delivered in the dead of night when the lamplights were at their lowest. The tiny cellar, once used only for storing spare cloth and needles, had been expanded with strange whimpering sounds coming from the stairwell leading down to it that was off-limit to all customers. When asked about it, Keelen would simply give a charming smile.
" That's just the new sewing equipment I've purchased. It makes an awful noise from time to time" he would say. The populace accepted the excuse and questioned it no further. After all, Keelen was only a humble tailor. What could he possibly have to hide?
The Shattering came and went with little to no effect to Keelen's tailoring life whatsoever. Now and then, ragged folks would walk into his shop and share with him news of the dark things happening abroad and the demand for more tailors kept him more busy than usual, but that was the extent of it.
His other life however, became far more complicated and the negatives of his secret life became more and more prominent.
This is the account of one occasion such as this. It was roughly three o'clock on the morning and Keelen was fast asleep in a chair underneath the tailor shop. Sirigna'no, his succubus minion strutted around the circumference of the room, her hips swayed from side to side as she glowered over the leper gnomes working furiously around her. Their fingers were covered in burst blisters and sweat coursed down their balding scalps but none of them dared to take a pause or complain, lest they feel the sting of the demon's whip on their backs. Mr Sheets kept them there for work, and there was to be no slacking.
A loud banging sound roused Keelen from his slumber. He jumped in surprise, sending the chair, along with himself, sprawling across the floor. He picked himself up and dusted himself down whilst Sirigna'no looked on with bemusement.
"What on earth-?" he said thickly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before turning to the demon, "Siri, what was that noise?"
The Succubus returned his gaze with a sultry look, "I think that was the sound of the table upstairs breaking in half, Master," she said matter-of-factly, "It seems you have a guest."
"At this hour? Do people have no sense of decency anymore?!" Keelen pushed back the demon and pulled on his shirt, stomping up the stairs while wearing only one boot.
Before he even laid eyes upon his visitor, Keelen could smell them. A putrid odour hung in the air so thick, it could be cut with a knife. It was a mix between rotten flesh that had been left to bake in the sun and the burning sulphurous reek of Fel Energy. Being a part of The Sanctum for many years, Keelen was no stranger to the scent of Fel, but this was more pure and assaulting to the senses that he had to try hard not to be overcome by it.
A pair of piggy gold eyes glared down at Keelen as he reached the top of the stairwell. The creature had the outward appearance of an ogre and was covered from head to foot in a black uniform, only its face could be seen. Its skin was grey with a green glow seeped from several cracks in it, and its teeth was yellow and rancid. It stood over the remain's of Keelen's front desk with what appeared to be a bundle of black cloth nestled in one arm and a black sack in the other.
"OI!" it roared, showering Keelen with spit, "IS YOU MISTER SHEETS?!"
"Yes, that's me. Can I help y-" Suddenly, Keelen's eye was caught by the cloth. It groaned and turned over in the monster's arms to look back at the bewildered tailor. It was an Elf, wearing a wooden Apothecary mask.
"Hello Sheets," said the man, "Long time no see."
"Amonias!" the tailor spluttered, "B-b-but how can you be here? I heard you died at the Wrathgate!"
"I'm harder to kill than you'd imagine my dear friend. But I'll explain that later. I've a large knife wound and I won't stop bleeding," he said in the same tone of voice he would use is he were recounting what he had for breakfast that day, "Fetch your sewing kit..."
Fifteen minutes later, the two guests were downstairs in the cellar with the wounded Elf lying across the table. Sirigna'no leant against the far wall, pouting at the newcomers whilst Keelen threaded his needle to begin his gruesome task. It had not been the first time he had stitched up living flesh, but unlike many others in The Sanctum, he took no pleasure in it. His bulky companion was looking over the leper gnomes with an almost hungrily look. The second black package in the corner lay slumped in the corner motionless. Nobody paid it any attention.
"What have you been doing this time to get yourself in such a mess?"Keelen said, preparing to make the first incision into the Elf's chest.
"A lucrative discovery that the Orcs left behind was, ARGH, interrupted by an Undead rabble," he grimaced behind his mask .
"Undead are ruthless like that. Did you defeat them?"
"No, they, OUCH, fled like scared mongrels. One was too slow however."
"At least you killed one of them I suppose."
"Oh I didn't kill that one, though his own people tried to. Frankly, he'll wish they were successful." Something about the casual way he said that disturbed Keelen. He dropped the conversation and carried on with his work. As he threaded the man's chest back together, he couldn't help but notice the stench and presence of the hulking figure that now stared at him from across the room. Its jaw was slack and crooked and its dull eyes bored into him whilst he worked. Amonias noticed Keelen's gaze and nodded towards the creature.
"I think he likes you," he said.
"I wasn't going to say anything but I have to ask," Keelen said, inwardly wishing that the great brute would avert its gaze, "What is that THING?"
"An improvement," said Amonias bluntly, "Don't worry Sheets, you'll, ARGH, probably be seeing a lot more of these things in the near future."
"I sincerely hope not."
"To each his own, hahahaha. Though I assure you that Boris here is vastly more productive than what he was before. Isn't that right Boris?"
"MASTER BE GOOD TO BORIS!" 'Boris' shouted, causing the light fitting's to rattle. The longer the stupid brute stood in his store, the less that Keelen liked it. He did not know where this Boris had come from, nor what this 'improvement' was, but he hoped to the Light that this would be the first and last time he ever saw one of these monstrosities.
"ARGH!! Watch what you're doing with that thing for Fel's sake!"Amonias yelled.
"Stop whining, I've heard banshees make less of a fuss. I'm almost done anyway,"
Keelen pulled the thread tight and snipped the excess with the scissors. He clapped his hands to show he had finished and Amonias sat up.
"One thing has been bothering me," Keelen said slowly as Amonias massaged the stitching, " Why did you decide to drag yourself to my doorstep. especially at this time of night? The Sanctum would have taken you back in and would have done a far better job patching you up than I ever could."
"No. This new venture of mine is far too delicate or involved for any of the idiots at The Sanctum to get involved with. It is better that as few people as possible know about my return, and fewer still to know of my plans." Amonias got gingerly to his feet and snapped his fingers. Without hesitation, Boris handed the robe he had been holding back to his master and picked up the black sack in the corner once again. This time it started to struggle against the creature's grasp, but Boris smacked it hard with his fist and it lay still once again.
"So I'm supposed to just keep quiet about you being alive? About your sick little experiments that make those...things?" He pointed towards Boris.
"Yes, you are. But I'm sure we can work something out," Amonias fished in the satchel by his waist and placed a large sack onto the table, its contents chinked slightly as he did so.
"You know as well as I do that I don't need money. Whats there to stop me from going straight to the Magister's and put a stop to all this?" Keelen's patience was wearing thin. Amonias stopped mid-stride and turned to face him again. Even through the wooden mask, Keelen could feel his gaze upon him.
"Listen to me very carefully Keelen Sheets. I've asked you very nicely to keep my return a secret. Now when people start spreading my secrets around, I tend to get very in a bad mood. And when I get in a bad mood, well Boris here, the poor little mite, he gets very upset you see."
"What are y-"
"And then of course things would get very messy," Amonias continued, ignoring Keelen's shaking fists, "I'd have to stick around a little while longer to sort things out here instead. I might even stop by with Boris to explain things to Deynna. How is she these days by the way? Keeping well?"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"So confident? Call my bluff then!"
There was a tense pause. Sirigna'no stopped her patrol of the leper gnomes to gaze at the two men, stood barely inches from one another, and both looked ready to kill one other.
"Fuck you Dawnrunner," Keelen spat, breaking the silence. The warlock merely chuckled.
“Love you too darling. Glad you came to see things my way. Isn’t it nice when we all get along? I have something for your trouble that you may find interesting.”
He put his hand into the robe’s deep pockets took out a small glinting shard of glass, its edges were shattered and it looked like it had once been part of something much larger. Amonias extended his arm and held it out for Keelen to take.
“You’re giving me a piece of broken mirror?” said the tailor with disgust.
“Of course not. This thing has an enchantment on it. That foolish Forsaken had it on his person when I fished him out but I can’t figure out what they use it for. See if you get break the enchantment on it, find out how it works for me. You’ll be compensated with more than gold if you have a breakthrough.”
Boris lumbered up the stairs and flung the black sack over his shoulder. He waved back stupidly back at the clothier before disappearing our of sight.
“Now I must be leaving. I have a meeting with the Dark Iron's to the south in a few days and I cannot be late. Goodbye Sheets. I hope we have one of our little talks again soon!”and with a last wave thrown behind him, the elderly Warlock vanished once again into the night as quickly as he had arrived. Keelen turned over the shard in his hands with equal parts interest and fury. He felt like throwing the thing against the wall and be done with it but the enchantment peaked his interest.
"Bastard" he grunted. He placed the shard on the table and slumped back in his chair. The leper gnomes, who had been watching the whole scenario, quickly busied themselves at their sewing machines.
“Shall I send word to The Sanctum, Master?" Sirigna'no offered, sliding her arm around her master's shoulder.
"No, it would do no good. The Wrathgate's put something bad in him that wasn't there before it seems." his gaze cast to the shard lying on his desk, "Send a message for Galana, tell her the shop will be closed tomorrow. I'm going to be working on a...project,"
"Right away. I must say though Master, we do keep some very odd company for a tailor" the Succubus shot him a flirty grin before stalking upstairs.
"That's nothing," Keelen yawned. He put his feet up on the desk and closed his weary eyes, "You should see the people down at the Wayfarer's some time..."
Subject: "Under the Elven City" by Drodal 
Sun Feb 27, 2011 9:46 am
