Yaksha sat at the Bloodseal tavern, as he had many times before. He sipped at his trademark absinthe, and began to hum to himself. He sat at his usual table, his tophat lying on the table right next to him. He had left another mysterious note with another person, his very favorite method of contacting people. The letter was simple, yet ominous.

"Sir Melmoth, I would like for you to consider me an admirer. I would request your presence at the bloodseal tavern tonight. I have much to discuss with you, and I dare not reveal much here. Know only that I am on your side. Enclosed, you will find 500 gold, to prove my sincerity.
-Y"

He began to hum his tune louder, smiling broadly as he did. It was a jaunty tune, one any ignorant person could easily mistake for your normal bartune. Really, it was a tune of anguish and pain, of bloodlust and dark glee. His theme song, you could say. Bright and kind on the outside, but full of a pure unadulterated blackness that would shock any normal person.

The steady drip from the ceiling marked the time for Melmoth as he awoke in the sewers of Taras. The darkness proved no obstacle for his vision as he quickly studied the area around him for the source of the sound that had disturbed his rest. It had not been normal sewer sounds, but something human. From out of the shadows stepped a man bearing a bag, obviously unskilled in the arts of stealth, and extremely stupid to try to sneak up on Melmoth the Wanderer. He fell without a sound, a thrown dagger choking off all cries.

Who had sent this man, Melmoth wondered. On him was nothing but a bag of coins and a letter disturbingly addressed to him. It spoke of secrecy and a leak about his nature. Melmoth shook his head and threw the man and the letter into the flow. No man alive knew the truth of him, not fully. Those that thought they knew belived in lies created by him to expand his reputation in certain circles. The truth was far worse than could be belived. Again he shook his head, this time to throw the gold away. Who could he be?

~ ~ ~

Shut up.

I'm just saying, Xrtchwdg said as he walked alongside Melmoth, He's heard of you, so he dies, right? Secrecy and all that. You can't be considereing letting this guy live.

Melmoth looked over at his ghostly demon. As usual he counseled death before all else. We'll hear him out before we skin him. He might even be the one. He seriously doubted this Y was the one. Bad guys never were potentials, and those that met at the Bloodseal Tavern weren't known for their moral strengths.

As he approached the Tavern, he fell fully into his old man habits. They were all small things, but in the end they added up. He was Melmoth the Wanderer, not a demonic menace to society.

He pushed open the door to the tavern and walked in. He scanned the room, and of course recognized no familiar faces. This Y would be a secret, and he would have to let him approach when he was ready. To that end, he chose a corner table and kept his back to the wall, watching for approaching strangers.

Yaksha sat in the very middle of the room, watching Melmoth sitting at the corner table. He made no gestures or anything, merely flagged a waitress, and asked her to send him a glass. Within a minute, she walked to Melmoth, handing him a goblet, full of a blood red liquid. She merely shrugged, and pointed back at Yaksha, who winked and pointed his finger at Melmoth, pretending to fire a gun at him.

He then gestured to the seat next to him, and then grabbed his own drink. To Melmoth's own eyes, he would seem to be your average gentleman, one who would tip quite nicely, and would speak with the greatest of care. His voice would've charmed nuns into acts of debauchary they'd never even heard of. Yaksha wasn't one to dissapoined. "Lord Melmoth, a pleasure to meet in person."

Melmoth rose from his chair and cautiously approached the strange man. He didn't seem overly threatening, but Melmoth had learned years ago to never judge a man by his looks. Several mages he had heard of looked like normal people, but could turn a city on it's head with a few words. He himself was more than what he seemed. Unless the stranger had a contact with the spirit world, a feat quite unlikely, then he was being summoned for some rumor of his human identity. Even that was unlikely. He was always carefull to keep a low profile.

"Lord of nothing. I am a simple man. Rover, wanderer, nomad, vagabond, call me what you will." He seated himself at the table and observed the man for a moment. He definitely wasn't the one, but what was he? Melmoth picked up his dring and held it close. He breathed in the smells of it, and decided against trying it. It smelled alright, but he was incredibly untrusting of strangers. It had saved his life a few times, and was not a habit he was going to drop for mysterious men with tophats.

He looked the man in the eyes, and began his planned conversation. He had specific questions he needed awnsered, and he did not have all night. "Who are you, what do you think you know of me, and how did you hear these things?" Who he was was of little importance, but what he knew and how he knew it were things he would never leave unawnsered.

Behind the man, Xrtchwdg pantomimed various methods of execution on the unaware man. The demon did not like the him, and wanted Melmoth to kill him where he sat. But then, he always advised death. Xrtchwdg was now an advisor, no longer a Pit Fiend at home in the abyss commanding his legions. He was stuck tagging along with Melmoth as he had his power given to his human partner.

Yaksha pulled a cigar from the hem of his hat, and light it on a nearby candle, puffing at it as Melmoth spoke. "I'll match your questions with some of my own. Why settle for living in the sewers, when you can have such a better place to stay? What do you think my reason for summoning you here was? And, the final question..." He leaned forward, all genteel manner draining from his face, leaving it all cold gazes and hard edges. "How old do you think I am?"

He shifted his leg, and then sighed, looking up at the ceiling and holding his cigar in the side of his mouth. A thin haze was beginning to amass around him, making him essentially a blur. He sighed. "Look, before I answer your questions, can I just drop my refined act? So annoying, dealing with all the goody goodys." His voice lost its clipped edges, turning into something straight from the abyss. "Let's see. Name's Yaksha, as to what I know, it isn't much. I know your name, where you live, and that you're in the Divschatten. All perfectly respectable things, that I could've learned from asking around."

He still didn't belive the man. There was something about him that was very wrong. All over, he itched, like hair he didn't have was trying to stand up. Perhaps it was his scales under his illusion writhing. "First off, I live nowhere. Where I lay my head is home. And then there's this matter of the Divschatten. How do you know a member of a secret guild?"

The Divschatten was secret by need, not choice. It's members were hunted for what they were, and were welcome nowhere. As part demons, they had a reputation for violence and destructive ability outstripped by few other races. There were monsted of course that could tear a guildsman apart, but they were dangerous nonetheless. This got more interesting every time he thought about it.

As for your age, it's irrelevant. All age is. Compare humans and elves. Their lifespans are far different, but their accomplishments not so much. I compare men on a different scale. For why you called me here... That is for yu to tell me. Fast, I might add. I tire of this and would know your reasons now."

Unspoken, but hopefully understood was his willingness to kill the man if his reasons proved insufficent. Time was always drawing closer to the end, and he had precious little of it to waste verbally sparring in a tavern of street thugs. The clientel of the place disgusted him in their accomplishments as much as their lack of ambition. Each and every one of them had the possibility to be remembered after their death, but none cared enough to pay the price. Melmoth would make sure he would be remembered a long time indeed.

He leaned out of the smoke cloud, his gentlemanly face replaced with a face complete with horns and bones on the shoulders. "Of COURSE age is irrelevant, Melmoth. I was just fucking with you. As to your impatience..." He leaned back in the chair once more, sucking on his cigar. He had dropped his human guise, his demonic form sitting before him, all jagged edges and emaciated flesh. "You'll never be more than a footnote if you can't wait for a plan to pan out. My reason for bringing you here is simple."

He leaned forward, biting the burning end off his cigar, and swallowing it. "I've heard much of the Divschatten from my....friends, you could call them. You have amazing goals, and you're no doubt a grand organization. I'd like to join your group. I can supply you with a near limitless supply of gold to finance any needs, and I would be honored to help you all rule this world."

It became clearer every passing moment. So the man was part demon. That would explain quite a bit of his knowledge. Obviously somewhat volatile, but then demons had made a habit of being like like that. Who needed to be sane when you were powerfull?

He chose to ignore the comment on his impatience. He was impatient, this was true, but when you'd been trying to execute a plan for as long as he had been, anything that got in the way tended to anger you. Even now things looked like they had the potential to be a waste of time. The Divschatten was not in need of gold, to his knowledge, but warriors, mages, leaders, and perhaps support staff. If this man proved to be capable of filling none of these positions, then he would have to be silenced for the good of the guild.

Melmoth leaned forward slightly and rested his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands in front of his mouth for a moment and stared at the man, thinking. "What can you do? We have no need of a walking bag of gold. What we need are soldiers. Unless you bring these with you I see little chance of you joining our little group."

This was all quite against his expectations. Usually when people contact you through stealthy means, they offer you a job, or so he had been led to belive. But for the man to go to all the trouble just to ask for a job... He would see what more he could learn of this Yaksha.

"Soldier? Surely even you know a good organization needs a strategist. I'm no fighter, but I am a quick learner. Give me a week, one week. I swear to you, I can prove myself to you within seven days." He sat back in his seat, and then placed his hands behind his head, smiling wryly. "I can assure you, a fresh mind would do wonders for you."

He turned to a nearby seat, and watched two seemingly normal people dining. "So ignorant, so very ignorant off all that goes on around them. Typical humans, seeing only what they want to." He walked over to the man, whispered quickly in his ear, then walked back to Melmoth. "She's been whoring herself out to pay for a gamble she lost on. He had no idea. Heaven alone knows what'll happen now, but no doubt it'll be fascinating."

Melmoth ignored the fuss from the other table and concentrated on Yaksha. He asked for one week and nothing else. Could he prove himself in a week? The Divschatten was full of bright minds with the bodies to back them up.

His first impulse was to refuse him altogether, but he stopped himself and reconsidered. If he flat out refused he would make the man a possible enemy, but if he were allowed to prove himself and failed, then he would have something to shoot for. A rumor he had heard about plans for Taras came to mind, but that needed no thinkers. Instead, he would let Yaksha have free reign on proving himself. If he was as smart as he professed to, then surely he could come up with something impresive.

"You have your chance. Prove yourself worthy, and I will support your entrance into the guild." Melmoth closed his eyes and put his hand to his head. All this annoyed him greatly, leading him on, trying to outsmart him... bah. "Impress me."

(Short post is short... meh. Up to you now.)