The baleful patrol

Travellers through the edge of the Cormanthor and near Fox Ridge have been harassed recently.  Two to three cloaked, armoured figures have been the perpetrators behind several rumoured attacks.  These assaults usually occur during the night.

People of a good nature and those who openly challenge the Zhentarim near Krag have been particularly targeted.  Individuals and merchants from Castle Krag, meanwhile, have been allowed to venture unmolested.

Some of these same cloaked assailants have been known to rest near the foot of Krag.

A contingent of various adventurers clashed with the cloaked marauders. Bright flashes of light, haphazardly thrown spells, and the sound of clashing metal echoed throughout the Cormanthor tonight. A battle has been won; a threat repulsed. But a war brews and has yet to fully unfold.

A purple cloaked priest drags his companion's corpse away from the battlefield.

Concealed in the shadows of night, a figure watches the battles play out. It moves effortlessly through the woodland, appearing as nothing more than a wisp of dark smoke. A mental note is taken of all the players in this performance. As the priest retrieves his companion and flees the area, the wisp of smoke follows. Silently and without disturbing a single twig on the forest floor, the pair is followed. When the two finally come to a stop, the figure reveals itself from the darkness. A smell of charred wood fills the air around them. It comes into view in what seems like an instant, its form is blurred and difficult to clearly make out even to the eyes of the pair. It speaks in a heavy accent, of eastern origin should either be able to recognize it.

"Quite the vulgar display of power back there. I have witnessed your endeavors; tell me, what allegiance have either of you to the Zhentarim? For what reason do you take up arms in assistance to the followers of the Dread Lord?"

The smoky figure comes into clear focus now, though its face and form are concealed by dark fabric. Two small orbs pierce with ease through the darkness; they glow as if burning with the fires of the Hells themselves. Unblinking and wide the orbs stare, focused on the pair of combatants.

Vlyn seems to be roasting a carrot over a campfire for some strange reason. He looks at the nebulous figure, to his companion, and then back to the figure.

"A better question would be, what manner of apparition are you and why are you asking us such questions?"

The figure crosses its arms, its eyes continuing to stare intensely and unblinking at the speaker.

"I have certain...interests that lie with the Zhentarim and I am merely curious as to the nature of your actions. Should you choose to sate my curiosity and I find your response acceptable, you will see yourself quite favorably rewarded."

The question regarding its own nature is left unanswered.

"Ooooh..." He talks through a mouthful of carrot, giggles and almost chokes. "How ominous."

"The shadowy figure that does not want to explain itself expects an explanation in kind. Were you really hoping for an answer, apparition?"

"I believe I have all that I was looking for. You have been most helpful."

The figure fades from view, the blaze of its eyes seeming to linger a moment longer before they too fade into darkness.