Seethe at Rest...

[*Ceremorph]

Sitting upon a low, velvet-upholstered couch in her room above the inn, Seethe slits through the top of the odd envelope with one perfectly manicured fingernail. A flick of the wrist serves to unfold the sheet of parchment within, and as her eyes read over the missive they betray emotion which she almost never shows in public: first a brief look of uncharacteristic anger, then a low laugh of calculation.

"Wheels within wheels, as always," her husky voice purrs to the room at large as she refolds the letter and slips it into a drawer. "Still, it might serve to heighten the stakes. Perhaps I need to take more direct action against that one."

Another voice, this one holding a silken soprano tone, sounds from a large blue gem sitting upon the table beside her. "Take care, dear protege. The Syndicate has resources, yes-- but retrieving you from another death-cell may be beyond our current abilities in Sigil."

Soft laughter replies to the warning even as light fades beyond the suite's narrow windows.

[*Ceremorph]

Seethe lies back upon the couch, clad in only a gossamer-thin robe of fine silk., her hands propped behind her head and her legs crossed at the ankle over its arm, her eyes closed and a pleased smile upon her face. The lights are out, only dim illumination coming from the blue gem set on her belly. Across the room, a large form shifts in the darkness, but remains silent.

"Sometimes it is too easy. One seems to be doing his best to discredit himself in any way possible. Another seems to be struggling with a different obsession. The third has to be questioning his own mind at this point. Threats have been either nullified or made moot, and I have little concern for the one working behind the scenes."

The other voice sounds in reply, a pleased tone to it. "It seems you have everything in hand. Try to keep it that way, apprentice-servant. The Syndicate does not wish to be forced to reveal more than we already have."

Seethe licks her lips, seemingly content with that answer, although after a moment's time she speaks again. "There is something else, mistress-teacher. Let me tell you about a very special young woman..."

[*Ceremorph]

Giving a sigh, the merchant watched as the door closed behind the huge exiting form of B'groff, pausing to ensure that the enchanted deadbolts would self-lock as usual. A trio of loud clicks later, soft reddish light sprung to illuminate the stairwell, and finally Seethe was willing to let her exhaustion show. Yes, her anklet still allowed her to function on short bursts of sleep garnered from time to time, but it was getting more and more difficult to keep up the genial front, harder and harder to only show that which she wanted. Animus and his reasearch... the odd offer made by the merchant Sensbane... and the foolish hardhead's continued possession of the gem. It was becoming nigh impossible to keep track of all connections, all eventualities.

All of this flashed through her mind in but a moment's time, along with what seemed the usual inner voice demanding she lay down and rest, but all flew to the wayside as she walked into her inner sanctum, and everything went... dark. Not the dark of the extinguishing of lanterns, or even a failure of the dim glowstones she kept scattered about the suite, but a total encompassing blackness, such as could only be produced by magic. And even as reflexes far quicker than what would be considered normal for a merchant had her moving immediately in the blackness, proof of another's interference was made far more concrete by the insubstantial coils she felt settling about her body, seeming to ignore the protective magics worn about her person and holding her immobile, even as a voice, familiar but frightening, purred its sultry honey into her ear.

"You have made quite the error, haven't you?" Years ago, Seethe had learned methods of not giving into fear, remaining calm and collected in even the most perilous and even hopeless situations; somewhere in the back of her mind, however, a voice gibbered in terror.

"You're here?" Her own reply seemed as calm as ever, but the teasing laughter and the soft touch of a hand lightly gripping her throat seemed to show that the other knew exactly the effect she was having upon the merchant. "Things are... worse than I thought, Ydrethlei."

"It doesn't matter, human. She still must have some use for you, some trust in you... but my business is not with Red's pets." The hand suddenly gripped harshly, cutting off Seethe's air, before releasing again. "All you need to remember is to stay out of my way. If I find you interfering with what needs to be done... let's just say you won't enjoy it, Pengool." The single word in Abyssal dripped with disdain, belying the seductive tone of the voice.

Seethe would reply, but even before the first word can leave her lips, all of the magic about her fades, releasing her limbs and letting torchlight reillumine the chambers. Looking about and triggering the dweomer of the rings piercing the upper whorls of her ears, she found herself alone once again. There may have been a despairing sound coming from her as she collapsed upon her bedroll, but that did not matter. A mere act of will banished the magic of her anklet, and all of her tiredness crashed in on her, the darkness of sleep falling even more quickly than that of magic, a single thought following her down.

I'll need all my faculties for this....

[*Ceremorph]

As the door closed behind the exiting officer and his friend, Seethe finally let her emotions show, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Slow steps took her to her bedroll, and only a few moments were needed to set backpack and clothing aside, a slight gesture and the flash of yellow from the ring upon her right index finger to dim the lights to near-darkness, and the merchant slipping beneath warm blankets. Fingers fumbled at the pack's side pocket, retrieving the gem. Its slow blue pulsing began with the first touch, and blinked in time with her pulse as she pressed it between her breasts, eyes closing and a pleased smile crossing her features in the half-light.

"Yes, it's me. It seems reason from you went further than reason from me. You will tell her, then?" Her brow furrowed slightly at the response, her voice slightly more anxious in its next query. "Yes, I know, but people can connect her to me. She needs to..." Her voice cut off, and she seemed to be listening for quite some time before her next words came. "If she stays out of my way, I'll stay out of hers. But if I'm to do what I'm supposed to be doing, I can't have her stirring up the...." Just a moment of silence this time, before giving a slight nod. "As you say, Mistress... as you say."

After this, speech ended. Had any others been in the room, they would have thought the merchant asleep, the flitting of her eyes beneath their lids and the occasional soft sigh to be the mark of dreaming. This would have been quite erroneous, but as there were no others there, that was of little matter indeed.