The Kiriath within the party was, once again, an illusion. In reality, the Intrigleeman was inside his personal vacuole, grinning about the events that had ensued.
The Dark Family's stones were clustered in one corner, the party. Most of the more important players anywhere were within that party, also, but Kiriath steepled his fingers and studied it carefully. Perhaps Matrim Cauthon could be lured ...with his luck, the Dark Family's power could be stopped.
Not that he had a vengeance of any sort against the Dark Family; it's just that chaos was the best place for a spy to operate within, and lately, events had seemed too streamlined, too smooth. Aside from that Draghkar, of course; it would be interesting to learn how the Great Mistress could arrange those "wishes".
Nevertheless, he smiled at his board, the pieces strewn about. Having an agent stashed in each place of power ---the Dragon himself, surveying the Forsaken (Sammael included, however tentatively ..he had always been dangerous, almost expecting spies to jump out of the framework. Bloody militant.), even a few gleemen watching the Two Towers themselves.
But, as he observed the board, he noticed an oddity. The cuendillar stone he had for his second in command was slowly moving ...off the board. On a separate board, mapping out the Dreamworld itself, and even known vacuoles, the huge black stone began moving, through the vacuoles, and, by a trick of the Eccentric power ---all the stones were warded by it; the power fused with the people's life forces--- it began to move into Kiriath's vacuole.
"Notumar," whispered Kiriath, as the scattered pieces slowly rearranged themselves. "Yes, it is me, Kir," said Notum, doing his traditional wild grin, "I've heard of these ...parties?" Kiriath nodded and Notum continued, "I'd love to see one."
The Spymaster thought quickly, "The one right now is nearly over, Notum." "Then the next one."
Kiriath, Undercover Intrigleeman
You haven't seen nothing yet...
[OOC: I've imagined Mashiara to be sort of like Calisto on Xena. A little insane, but definitely evil.]
Mashiara tried not to giggle hysterically, but it was difficult. With one hand to her mouth, and another holding a Rod of Dominion, she opened a Gateway to a vacuole. Inside it, she set the rod down, and laughed again.
I really ought to dispose of Carenna, she thought. I'm simply too sentimental. Perhaps I'll kill her later. The Draghkar didn't succeed, although I didn't really intend that it should. Next time, I think I'll scare her. It's so much more enjoyable than simply killing her.
Then she spoke aloud, to no one in particular. "Now, who shall I speak to first? I know," and she tapped her long fingernails against the other ter'angreal she now held in her hand, "Kiriath. They say he loves chaos, and who better to spread it than I. First, I must change."
She pulled out a short leopard-skin dress from the chest of drawers in the corner. The matching stilletos and the jewelry came out next. She put them on, and twirled in front of the mirror. Her hair spun in a golden arc, and that distinctive, sweeping laugh echoed in the vacuole. She made a Gate, and stepped through to Kiriath's vacuole.
Shaking his head into his bottomless mug, he felt a sudden jerk. Someone had penetrated his vacuole! No Illusions, however; instead, Kiriath substituted Mazrin Fain for himself. If anyone could act as though he had gotten drunk on a bottomless mug, it was Fain.
He had warded his vacuole with immense proportions, no doubt about that. In fact, the intruder hadn't even penetrated his Clash Chamber, the Eccentric war room. Lucky thing, that. A few checks as he Eyed his way out and another realization: she had only gone into his first room. There were still plenty more.
This room, the one the intruder had entered, was almost identical to a waiting room, with couches ---he had found a few within a stasis box stranded out here, in the far-reaching land of vacuoles--- and magazines. He entered and discovered a lady lounging in one, reading a magazine.
It was deliberate, he knew; everyone knew he had an addiction to puns. A lady in a leopard skin reading a leopard magazine. Yes, it worked. Short dress and stilettos or not, Kiriath knew he had to make a good impression.
The lady nodded passively. "Yes, I did, gleeman. And I also know you have a splendid place here. Stasis box, perchance?"
Kiriath wasn't about to explain too much ...Carramaena had taught him what occured when you let your enemy in on too much. "Partially. Some of it was here when I came." True. The magazines must have been from a long-ago fellow; Air weaves again, blowing away the dust. "But I digress. What brings you here, fair lady?"
Kiriath, Undercover Intrigleeman
First impressions should be good ones...