Nichomedes
Expert in Existential Crises
Sanguis Aurelia
Anonymity.
For all his life, it had been Adagio's greatest asset. He had never been anyone of note. Never a character worth paying any amount of attention to. Some males in his home had taken issue with their cultural inferiority to the opposite gender, but Adagio had always seen it as an advantage. Even before he took up the weapon of a thief, he had learned to plot from the shadows.
Anonymity had spared him the rod from his instructors when he was a boy. Spared him the ministrations of his emotionally deadened mother, who for four years had entirely forgotten he was boarded at the wizardry college. Spared him the knife when his family decided to sell themselves for a name and political standing, being the whores for social validation that they were.
It also bought him a seat at the card table in the village of Lephis, which his own clan had just raided for goods and gold not a week before. The half-charred, half-frozen buildings were still crisscrossed with the smoldering leftovers of various types of dragonbreath. His own Mnemolith had encased the food stores entirely in ice, which caused them to spoil when they thawed.
A lesson hard learned when he'd tried using her breath to preserve his foods long term. At cold enough temperatures, ice could burn meat and destroy vegetables.
Now Mnemolith was patrolling the countryside, gleefully picking off escaped cattle and goats before their ranchers could recover them. Probably the ranchers too.
"Six of Djinni." With a smirk hidden behind his wooden mask, Adagio laid down his painted card on the table in the roofless remains of a tavern. With a gloved hand, he motioned 'come-hither' to the two other players at the table. "Pay up."
Only a few villagers had stayed behind to rebuild, while the rest sought shelter elsewhere. And while they had spent most of the day performing hard labor, they were happy stop for a drink when a traveling merchant--Adagio--came through promising a discount on his wares if they could beat him at cards.
Donned in a white-and-gold hood, with a laquered wooden owl mask, they did not recognize the drow raider who had come on dragonback not long ago.
"Cheat!" One villager through down his cards and stood up so fast it knocked his chair back.
Adagio lifted his gloved hands with fingers spread.
"A heinous accusation, sir." Adagio's voice was muffled by the mask. "I wouldn't dream of cheating the victims of a terrible raid. I only wanted the thrill of an honest game. Didn't you?"
A feeling close to guilt nagged at the back of Adagio's mind. He was supposed to be somewhere. Some asinine meeting for the dragonriders. Plans for their next raid, surely. And what was there to plan? Ride a dragon. Breathe death down upon their targets. Loot what remains. None of it was terribly complicated.
If it was truly that important they'd send someone to find him. His dragon prowling nearby would be a clear enough indicator of where he went.
