Legion of Super-Horrors log 2. Recruiting Zoe.

[evilbeej]

It's a lush, Victorian-style study; there are books everywhere, obscure and arcane trinkets in glass cases and on shelves; ancient maps and star charts on the walls. It breathes of a scholarly wealth, it feels like dignified age and power. The desk is a behemoth: a large mahogany affair with a well-polished surface, intricate carvings on the outside panels, room enough to work and to hold the standard tools of a well-connected and busy man.

The chair in front of the desk looks comfortable enough; it's carved wood and red velvet upholstery.

The chair behind the desk is of wood alone -- it's the only thing out-of-place in the room, as it looks like it belongs to a private detective from the nineteen-forties. Solid and worn.

When is a door not a door?

When it's the door to the Leader's office, in the heart of the complex belonging to the organisation known only as the Legion. Also when that door's ajar. That slightly open door is made of solid wood, and carved all over (and around, on the frame and up on the lintel) with symbols arcane and mundane both -- and these, even, are mixed with other symbols, not arcane but nonetheless powerful. One such as Zoe Saugin would not only recognise them as such, but *feel* the energy their presence gives off, simply by being where they are.

Through the door, seated at the massive hardwood desk, is the Leader himself: the man who commands the disparate, clashing entities that comprise the Legion, through charisma, trickery, politics--? No one is quite sure, though rumours abound.

He's surprisingly short, for all that.

Standing up to greet the sorceress, the Leader extends a pale, strong hand, indicating the chair in front of the desk. "Mistress Saugin," he says deferentially, "please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. Do you take refreshment?"

Okay, not *that* short. But certainly not tall. Fair-skinned, black-haired, and dressed all in black, with eyes the ice blue of winter, the only brilliant color on his person is the bright gold signet ring he wears on his right hand.

The sorceress in question, Zoe Sauging (Lady Saugin or Mistress Saugin to almost everyone), gives the Leader a slight smile as she enters. Those runes and wards seem quite complete, especially to one of the Lady Saugin's training. She extends her hand, palm down of course, to the Leader, "If the wine is passable, certainly. I must admit that your invitation was rather... interesting to me." Lady Saugin gathers up her emerald green robes as she takes a seat, trimmed in gold and embroidered in crimson glyphs no less potent... although of differing intent... than those about the door. She takes a moment to tame the cloud of crimson hair that continually seems to waft about on some unseen breeze.

The bottle of wine the Leader carefully extracts from a cabinet to the left of his desk is, in fact, of a venerable vintage indeed -- and from a vintner revered in the circles of the most devastatingly elite connoisseurs. Two glasses he takes out, as well, and pours them in front of the sorceress with meticulous correctness of form. "I hope," he says drily, offering Zoe a glass and then lifting the other, "you find this passable, my Lady."

Still demonstrating perfect form and composure, the Leader fails to broach the subject of business until the social ritual of the sharing of wine has commenced. Then, and only then, does he himself sit back in his own chair and come back to the matter at hand. "I understand that I possess certain--" he starts brusquely, then clears his throat and finishes more delicately, "--items of value that you have rumoured to have been long in seeking. I would offer a fair trade, my Lady Saugin."

Lady Saugin's brows quirk a bit at the exquisite vintage the Leader has chosen. She doesn't reach for her glass until he has filled his own, of course, but takes a moment to savor the bouquet. "Oh, several items if my sources are reliable... and they have yet to fail me in my pursuits." Lady Saugin swirls the wine for a moment, watching how it catches the light, "What sort of trade did you have in mind? Something that would require a sorceress of my... proclivities, no doubt?"

"A contract, my Lady," answers the Braalian steadily, setting down his glass. "Some of the items-- the locations, certain of the artifacts, the manuscripts-- I most unfortunately *cannot* afford to trade away permanently. They would, however, be at your disposal should you decide to accept my offer. Some of the items, of course, would be yours to take with you should you decide at any point that the terms are no longer beneficial." He regards the sorceress coolly, wintry gaze never wavering, tone quite reasonable and businesslike. "Shall I continue?"

Lady Saugin hmms, taking a sip of her wine. If the Lady has a weakness it is the lure of power and from what she has gathered, the Leader is dangling rather a bit of it to incentivize this contract. She sets her glass down and leans forward slightly in her seat, fingers laced across her lap, "I am all attention, my good Sir. Do tell me all."

"As you wish," is the agreeable acknowledgement. The Legion's commander folds his hands atop the desk, leaning forward slightly; his tone doesn't change. "I offer you the use of what magical resources I possess and the ownership of those artifacts I named in my invitation." Then he sits back, looking to one side to pull out a desk drawer. From the drawer he lifts a small jewelry-box; he opens it and presents it to Zoe. Within is a gold ring, matching his own, matching those all Legionnaires wear. "In return, I ask for your service, as a Legionnaire and answerable to me, for the duration of your use of my resources. As a Legionnaire, you will be expected to protect the interests of the Legion as you would your own life, and perform such duties as are fitting to a Lady of your stature and ability, at my request. How say you?"

Lady Saugin mulls that over for a moment. The artifacts the Leader's invitation mentioned were quite enticing on their own the hook isn't -quite- set. "I will admit that this is an attractive offer." She takes the box and looks over the ring for a time. "Before I accept, of course, I should like to know just what -are- the current interests of the Legion... nothing unpalatable I hope... " At least now that the Lady Saugin has met the Leader, she has some idea as to just how he maintains his control... the greater undead are notoriously persuasive.

There's a tiny crooked smile that lifts one corner of the vampire's mouth. "In order, my Lady: first, to defend those beings who seek no harm, yet are beset. Second, to defend your fellow Legionnaires. Third, to increase the resources and influence of the Legion. Fourth, to teach tolerance among species through example. And fifth--" Here, the smile is erased as though it had never been there. "Fifth, a rescue. This, however, is a rescue fraught with enough danger and complication that even my Legion is not yet prepared to perform it."

Lady Saugin nods, taking it all in, "With the understanding that any artifacts not deemed vital to the Legion itself, or claimed by you as our illustrious Leader in advance, fall to me as they are discovered... I have no problem with your first four points. The fifth... the fifth, I would imagine, is one of the reasons I was invited in the first place." She withdraws the golden ring from its box and looks it over as she speaks, "If my terms are agreeable, I'm in. Such a hazardous rescue could be just the invigoration I need..."

From the Leader, there's only a nod acknowledging Zoe's understanding of the situation. Then he lifts an eyebrow, looking interested. "What additional terms do you require, my Lady?"

Zoe simply smiles, "As you have already surmised, objects of power are something of a passion of mine. Should we come across any over time, any such items that aren't deemed to be vital to the Legion itself or that you claim for yourself, fall to me. ... Especially any of the artifacts of Ekron, should we come across them?"

Is there a faint look of-- relief? Passing, just there, behind those frozen blue eyes? Whatever it is is gone almost before it appears, and the look of professional interest smooths over into straight-up matter-of-fact confidence once more. "Of course," he says genially. "The agreement is made; I'll have the binding contract drawn up and readied for your perusal and, unless you find it to be any more or less than precisely what we have discussed, your signature." He glances up at the complicated-looking clock on the bookshelf closest to his desk, then returns his gaze to Zoe, standing up once more. "One of the other Legionnaires will bring it to you in the morning, Lady Saugin."

Lady Saugin smiles, nodding, "But of course. The sun these days can be so harsh, I often cover up a bit myself." The Lady's appearance being another passion of hers. "I very much look forward to our next meeting." And, of course, getting her hands on promised artifacts ... even if some will be little more than objects d'art by the time she's done with them.