The Syndicate

[*Midnight]

She simply smiles pleasantly back

"What you could have made from it would be far from toxic. Such things are often what we make of them. I had no idea you were suggesting a party. As you have placed what I have brought in front of a number of people it would mean you will have to continue without a great many of them.

I had thought the Syndicate progresses stronger together."

[*Selebius]

Issanthis will just listen, visibly bored by the games those humaniods are so fond of playing instead of adressing the real problems.

[*ManyFaced]

In front of Issanthis are two glasses, one containing Annia's incredibly potent and surely poisonous brew and another with a sweet beverage with an odd aftertaste.

Annia's second drink is a strong spirit, but otherwise un-noteworthy.

~~~~~~~~~

"Three by my count, Annia- yourself included." She glances down at her glass briefly. "The Syndicate would of course progress stronger together, assuming it does not see fit to tear itself apart at the smallest excuse. If the members cannot provide and share a drink together without killing one another, I question how far we will manage in the face of an overwhelming threat."

She glances between Garm and the Illithid. "Do enjoy your drink, or else we cannot begin."

~~~~~~~~~

The other members, barring the exception of Emmy (and possibly Shania, who would receive her own drink and a mediocre scotch), have all brought their own choices and their selections were traded amongst themselves.

Nienna continues

[*Midnight]

"The choice if of course yours. You can impart what you know to all of us, or refuse to based upon some parlor game you seem to enjoy playing. Clearly whatever you decide will affect everyone's success here."

She leans back in her chair smiles and waits patiently.

[*Selebius]

Issanthis looks down at the glasses, then pushes them aside.

::There is danger. Our territories were attacked. This is not the time for games.::

[*Darkrob]

Charles, feeling a slight glow after downing the two strong drinks (the 30 year old whiskey being a very smooth, yet potent, highland drink bringing the warm feeling in the back of his neck) simply leans back in his chair and watches the others. He says nothing while watching the scene unfold. He was prepared to be poisoned in an effort to be removed from his seat and was pleasantly surprised when he was not. Many here knew, unofficially, that he had been responsible for the “early retirement” of several older members of the Syndicate and sometimes payback can be a bitch…

Â… But measures had been taken should he have been poisoned or killed. Charles wasnÂ’t one for simply accepting death because someone had a beef with him. He was not one who believes that others can be honorable in most dealings. But thankfully the measures neednÂ’t be initiated. So he waited and watched.

[*ManyFaced]

“Then,” She looks at Issanthis levelly. “Take the few moments to drink your toast, you are the one that is unnecessarily holding us up. While I know Mindflayers do not favor normal drinks and food, their stomach can handle it quite easily.”

“Either play along with this ‘parlor game’ and show your trustworthiness and confidence in the Syndicate as a whole, or live on without knowing what plagues your territories and lose them as you are caught unaware- and are betrayed by those you trust.” She refills her glass a third time. “The choice is yours, and yours alone, no doubt the others in this room will be terribly cross at having their chance to learn stolen away as well.”

[*Midnight]

"I have played your game and drank what you have put in front of me. I think that demonstrates my trust. And if my rather clear warning to the others does not demonstrate that I have no desire to poison them I do not know what will. I can't see why you're getting so up set. Can we please continue?"

[*Lucereflame]

*Garm would not Bring a Bottle with him and if Refused entry he would push the servant aside and Walk on in himself sitting backwards in a seat at the table*

[*Darkrob]

Charles would wait for everyone to gather, go through their regular “pleasantries and social niceties” and take their seats. They might be competitors and some gathered here might be dark and cold or downright odd… but there was always time for common and social courtesy. At the very least, Charles expected it.

He noticed that the chair held by his Halfling associate, Emmy, was vacant. He had heard rumors and rumblings through the dark corridors of the under-territory but still held hope that news of her disappearance (and possible demise) was incorrect. For now, thoughÂ… he would simply assume she was elsewhere on business and keep the information to himself. Nothing would be served by bringing up such things at this time.

After the official count was taken he stood and lifted his glass in the air.

“To the Syndicate and those who serve her” followed by a quick emptying of the glass. He then picked up the second shot glass.

“To our individual successes… especially mine” he said with a grin and a wink before downing the contents of that glass as well.

He then waited for everyone else to follow suit and then officially handed the meeting over to Nienna.