Alone in darkness, Durgin leans into his high-backed chair and places his elbows on its wide armrests. Face up-lit by a ghostly flicker, the brooding man steeples his fingers, the tips of which meet at the top of his nose. Time passes in silence as Durgin, lost in thought, stares into nothingness.
From the darkness, a creaking door opens, then closes with a heavy boom. Durgin doesn't bother looking up.
Moments later, a voice familiar to him scoffs, "Twenty five! Ha! I even offered them thirty, and they still took twenty five!" Zuul cackles. "Where do you get these kids? 'King of Thieves' they call you. More like 'blockhead magnet.'"
Taking his seat across the small table, the old gargoyle groans as his bones creak. A silvery glow casts a soft illumination upwards onto his face. "Cold tonight. Bad moon too."
"You should have given them thirty." Durgin says without a twitch, still lost in thought.
"Bah," Zuul waves his hand dismissively. "Giving that bunch thirty pieces would be like throwing a handful of pearls to the swine." He sniffs and pushes the glasses back up his beak-like nose with one gnarled talon.
When he sees Durgin has no argument to offer, Zuul quickly becomes impatient. "Well, get on with it! We ain't got all night."
Durgin shakes his head as if coming out of a daze, and looses an exasperated exhale as he sits up.
Through the keyhole an eye watches. A little girl, barely in her teenage years, spies on the meeting. She sees Durgin's up-lit face through the shadows, but the ugly old gargoyle's chair is facing away from the door.
Suddenly, Durgin sits up as if waking from a dream. He looks down at the table at his knees, down at the glowing crystal sphere the girl knows is magical. He then begins to wave one hand palm down in a slow, circular motion above the crystal. His words are hard to make out, but she knows its some sort of enchantment. She knows the ball shows them things, things they want to see.
"Mmm. Diamonds. That one must be two carats at least," Zuul says matter-of-factly. "It'll fetch a silver penny or two.
"Who's that?"
Durgin doesn't reply immediately. They watch the glowing crystal ball for a few more moments until he answers. "
Whisper," he says as if the name is a curiosity to him. "You wouldn't know him. He's a bit more than a common crook. He's a young mage."
"A mage? Well, since you know everything, what's he doing with our loot? We supposed to get it from him?"
"No... He's supposed to get it...
for us..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:39, Mon 12 May 2014.