Of Vile Darkness
Corinthi
First Post
Roach, Human Male Cancer Mage
You cannot allow this insult to stand. You paid the clergy. They know these alleys are yours. The voice is incessant, buzzing angrily in Roach's head like a cloud of flies.
The alms were not taxes. They were to provide food. I protect them, but don't feed them personally. Roach presses a hand to his forehead as he slides through the shadows. Those he passes don't acknowledge him, either because they do not notice, or because they know not to.
LIES! You can lie to others, but never to me. I know you, I am the devil on your shoulder and the darkness of your shadow. The alms are purely to ease your lingering shreds of conscience. Pathetic weakling.
*Roach had no response to that, and tries his best to ignore the frenzied ranting of his other half as he ponders how to best deal with this latest intrusion to his domain. Suddenly, he stops, straightening as best as his hunched form can. The corners of his bloodstained lips twist slightly in a bitter mockery of a smile.*
Bait.
Yes....bait.
*The hunchback whirls suddenly, rags fanning about him as he stalks back down the alley, sharp eyes and keen ears searching for any sign of his tender morsel, Jak. No good samaritan can pass up a chance to rescue a crippled child. Just gather up the bait, set the trap, and wait for the savior to arrive. Simple.*
*Deep within the dark madness of Roach's mind, a single chord of humanity resonates softly, threatening memories of a life before sickness. A life before disease. A life when such traps might be baited to snare some sort of animal for a simple meal. The chord is swiftly silenced by a malevolent thought coming from outside Roach's mind.*
I wonder if the faithful taste like the gods they worship...
You cannot allow this insult to stand. You paid the clergy. They know these alleys are yours. The voice is incessant, buzzing angrily in Roach's head like a cloud of flies.
The alms were not taxes. They were to provide food. I protect them, but don't feed them personally. Roach presses a hand to his forehead as he slides through the shadows. Those he passes don't acknowledge him, either because they do not notice, or because they know not to.
LIES! You can lie to others, but never to me. I know you, I am the devil on your shoulder and the darkness of your shadow. The alms are purely to ease your lingering shreds of conscience. Pathetic weakling.
*Roach had no response to that, and tries his best to ignore the frenzied ranting of his other half as he ponders how to best deal with this latest intrusion to his domain. Suddenly, he stops, straightening as best as his hunched form can. The corners of his bloodstained lips twist slightly in a bitter mockery of a smile.*
Bait.
Yes....bait.
*The hunchback whirls suddenly, rags fanning about him as he stalks back down the alley, sharp eyes and keen ears searching for any sign of his tender morsel, Jak. No good samaritan can pass up a chance to rescue a crippled child. Just gather up the bait, set the trap, and wait for the savior to arrive. Simple.*
*Deep within the dark madness of Roach's mind, a single chord of humanity resonates softly, threatening memories of a life before sickness. A life before disease. A life when such traps might be baited to snare some sort of animal for a simple meal. The chord is swiftly silenced by a malevolent thought coming from outside Roach's mind.*
I wonder if the faithful taste like the gods they worship...
Rybaer
First Post
*Upon spying his portly contact across the room, Torr drains his ale in one long pull and excuses himself from the game. He uses his size to clear a path through the growing crowd as he makes his way to the bar.*
*Torr restrains himself from sneering at Hasord's doubletalk. Though he understands the need for secrecy in this business, taking it to this level comes across as more of a game to Torr. He resigns himself to playing along.*
"I'm pleased to hear that Albot was satisfied with my services," Torr says. He flags down the bartender with his mug for a refill and takes a seat beside the contact. "The work was rewarding in its way. What can you tell me about the work your cousin would like me to perform this time?"
Ray Silver said:
*Torr restrains himself from sneering at Hasord's doubletalk. Though he understands the need for secrecy in this business, taking it to this level comes across as more of a game to Torr. He resigns himself to playing along.*
"I'm pleased to hear that Albot was satisfied with my services," Torr says. He flags down the bartender with his mug for a refill and takes a seat beside the contact. "The work was rewarding in its way. What can you tell me about the work your cousin would like me to perform this time?"
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*Aekir, the tea drinker seems to be lost in contemplation at first glance, though you know better. His eyes keep a watch on all in the room, though he doesn't rise from his seat for several hours. After a bit a wench leans over him and seems to flirt with him. But after she leaves he goes to Wode's court. The halfling speaks to him for several minutes, then he leaves again.*
*Several wenches go in and out of the "court," though a few linger for a moment or two longer than the others. Probably spy-whores or assassin-whores. Selling information is a good second profession for a clever prostitute, as pillow talk can be remarkably informative. A few men of various builds, most of them terribly unremarkable, which would be typical for most good assassins, also pay homage.*
*Able, after several hours of drinking and watching, a wench comes over with Wode's expected summons. You're admitted into the inner court with little fuss, and Wode's gray eyes look you up and down as it bades you to sit on the cushioned bench across from it. There's two halfling women dressed as prostitutes at its left side, a buxom human woman on its right, and what looks like a human lad, seemingly all of four years old, curled up on its lap, along with the usual pair of stern-faced hulking half-orc brutes just outside the curtains. All, you would expect, have more than a passing experience with weapons.*
"Mokath needs a new boss for his factory. His current one bores him, and doesn't make enough profit. The profit is being eaten up by this boss' greed and vices. That distresses Mokath. Mokath would like to make sure that his will never happen again. The boss' name is Sefor. Human, average height and weight, brown hair, but wears it long, to his feet, and braided. He likes to hunt stags in the Northwood, outside Andeluvay. The Butterfly was given to understand that there was to be a terrible hunting accident the next time Sefor hunts. The purse from such an accident is heavy, quarter now, rest after death is confirmed. Mokath wants one braid, cut where it won't show, as proof. Does that suit?" Wode says in its usual toneless, colorless way.
*Aekir, after the crowd has died down, you make your way to Wode's court. Its women (and men) are there, as usual, and Wode regards you with a bleak gaze.*
"We have no shortage of jobs for you. There's a good purse for the silence of a loose-tongued woman. Uppity merchant's wife, but hardly out of common stock. She listens and gossips with reckless abandon, and her husband uses her flapping jaw to spread lies about his rivals and increase his own wealth to irsome ends. One of the rivals desires a message to be sent to the merchant through the agent of his wife's tongue. Remove the offending object from Irene Kissaken's mouth and make certain it is delivered to the wool merchant Thom Kissaken of Carder's Square by breakfast three days hence. Whether the woman lives or dies is of no concern to the client, but the Butterfly wishes her dead to avoid complication. The purse weighs in at two thousand crowns, half now, half later. Questions?"
*Ralam, after dusk you finally spot the portly Hasord. He's talking to a handsome and sturdily-built man dressed in fine clothes, laughing and talking as if they're discussing the weather, or a show at the theater. Of course, they could just as easily be talking about killing the man next door; such is the way with Hasord.*
*Loviana, Predel suggest a stroll along the Masquer's Parade, a place where there are a great many theaters, a few of which are open air. There are a few musicians on street corners, some of which Predel throws some copper and silver into their hats. An acrobat troupe performs in one of the free, open-air theaters, and he draws you down to take a seat. He laughs and claps delightedly at them, trying to draw you into his boyish enthusiasm.*
[OOC: Loviana would know that Brightfire is one of the relatively rare radience genasi, one born in the plane of the most beautiful colors of the multiverse. She's known to have an incredible voice, a talented hand at the lute, and the ability to cause solid colors from her singing to linger in the air for days or even weeks after she's left. While she goes by the title of "Rainbow's Delight," she has another title of "Rainbow's Lover." She distributes her charms far and wide in an attempt to "bring beauty into other's lives." She's known to be absolutely gorgeous, with cerulean blue skin, dark pink hair, and green and gold eyes. However, it's said (in half-jest) that her end will come at the hands of a hundred jealous wives and sweethearts of her former lovers.]
*Roach, Jak is where you found him, though apparently he regain consciousness long enough to pull his rags over his ruined face before fainting again. The boy is entirely senseless now, and no one around here will interfere with you taking the boy elsewhere.*
*Torr, Hasord rubs his hands together and smiles and laughs heartily as if you had just said a joke. Leaning forward, as if speaking confidentially, he smiles as he tells you the details required for a murder. Coaxed in doublespeak, but in the phrases you know, he says that there's a city guardsman that's a bit too keen on the trail of one of the Butterfly's crimes. To distract the guardsman, the Butterfly requires the death of his father, a captain of the guard. A difficult target, to be certain, but there will be help. Torr's skills are necessary to take out the guards on the captain's door in order to clear the way for the assassin to take out the captain. Two alert, strapping guardsmen and a captain killed by an assassin's blade is one thing, and implies a serious threat. Two alert, strapping guardsmen killed savagely while the captain is killed neatly is a strange mystery as well as a tragedy that should distract the guardsman for months, in addition to throwing that entire sector of the city watch into disarray.*
*Several wenches go in and out of the "court," though a few linger for a moment or two longer than the others. Probably spy-whores or assassin-whores. Selling information is a good second profession for a clever prostitute, as pillow talk can be remarkably informative. A few men of various builds, most of them terribly unremarkable, which would be typical for most good assassins, also pay homage.*
*Able, after several hours of drinking and watching, a wench comes over with Wode's expected summons. You're admitted into the inner court with little fuss, and Wode's gray eyes look you up and down as it bades you to sit on the cushioned bench across from it. There's two halfling women dressed as prostitutes at its left side, a buxom human woman on its right, and what looks like a human lad, seemingly all of four years old, curled up on its lap, along with the usual pair of stern-faced hulking half-orc brutes just outside the curtains. All, you would expect, have more than a passing experience with weapons.*
"Mokath needs a new boss for his factory. His current one bores him, and doesn't make enough profit. The profit is being eaten up by this boss' greed and vices. That distresses Mokath. Mokath would like to make sure that his will never happen again. The boss' name is Sefor. Human, average height and weight, brown hair, but wears it long, to his feet, and braided. He likes to hunt stags in the Northwood, outside Andeluvay. The Butterfly was given to understand that there was to be a terrible hunting accident the next time Sefor hunts. The purse from such an accident is heavy, quarter now, rest after death is confirmed. Mokath wants one braid, cut where it won't show, as proof. Does that suit?" Wode says in its usual toneless, colorless way.
*Aekir, after the crowd has died down, you make your way to Wode's court. Its women (and men) are there, as usual, and Wode regards you with a bleak gaze.*
"We have no shortage of jobs for you. There's a good purse for the silence of a loose-tongued woman. Uppity merchant's wife, but hardly out of common stock. She listens and gossips with reckless abandon, and her husband uses her flapping jaw to spread lies about his rivals and increase his own wealth to irsome ends. One of the rivals desires a message to be sent to the merchant through the agent of his wife's tongue. Remove the offending object from Irene Kissaken's mouth and make certain it is delivered to the wool merchant Thom Kissaken of Carder's Square by breakfast three days hence. Whether the woman lives or dies is of no concern to the client, but the Butterfly wishes her dead to avoid complication. The purse weighs in at two thousand crowns, half now, half later. Questions?"
*Ralam, after dusk you finally spot the portly Hasord. He's talking to a handsome and sturdily-built man dressed in fine clothes, laughing and talking as if they're discussing the weather, or a show at the theater. Of course, they could just as easily be talking about killing the man next door; such is the way with Hasord.*
*Loviana, Predel suggest a stroll along the Masquer's Parade, a place where there are a great many theaters, a few of which are open air. There are a few musicians on street corners, some of which Predel throws some copper and silver into their hats. An acrobat troupe performs in one of the free, open-air theaters, and he draws you down to take a seat. He laughs and claps delightedly at them, trying to draw you into his boyish enthusiasm.*
[OOC: Loviana would know that Brightfire is one of the relatively rare radience genasi, one born in the plane of the most beautiful colors of the multiverse. She's known to have an incredible voice, a talented hand at the lute, and the ability to cause solid colors from her singing to linger in the air for days or even weeks after she's left. While she goes by the title of "Rainbow's Delight," she has another title of "Rainbow's Lover." She distributes her charms far and wide in an attempt to "bring beauty into other's lives." She's known to be absolutely gorgeous, with cerulean blue skin, dark pink hair, and green and gold eyes. However, it's said (in half-jest) that her end will come at the hands of a hundred jealous wives and sweethearts of her former lovers.]
*Roach, Jak is where you found him, though apparently he regain consciousness long enough to pull his rags over his ruined face before fainting again. The boy is entirely senseless now, and no one around here will interfere with you taking the boy elsewhere.*
*Torr, Hasord rubs his hands together and smiles and laughs heartily as if you had just said a joke. Leaning forward, as if speaking confidentially, he smiles as he tells you the details required for a murder. Coaxed in doublespeak, but in the phrases you know, he says that there's a city guardsman that's a bit too keen on the trail of one of the Butterfly's crimes. To distract the guardsman, the Butterfly requires the death of his father, a captain of the guard. A difficult target, to be certain, but there will be help. Torr's skills are necessary to take out the guards on the captain's door in order to clear the way for the assassin to take out the captain. Two alert, strapping guardsmen and a captain killed by an assassin's blade is one thing, and implies a serious threat. Two alert, strapping guardsmen killed savagely while the captain is killed neatly is a strange mystery as well as a tragedy that should distract the guardsman for months, in addition to throwing that entire sector of the city watch into disarray.*
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Brother Shatterstone
Dark Moderator of PbP
Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)
*Loviana allows Brother Predel to guide her as she keeps her body close to his with the intention of given the impression of young lovers to those they pass*
*Her thoughts are dark and betray the disappointment and slight rejection she is feeling, A Street show? What is wrong with you Predel? Do you not find me attractive? Isn’t there a single idea in your head on what you should be doing with me right now?*
*As they set and watch the street performers Loviana leans down slightly, exposing more of her cleavage to Predel and any of the others in the area that happen to be looking at that time, she reaches for a stray coin that had ran and rolled along the ground away from the hat. Looking out of the corner of her eye she tried to judge Predel’s reaction to her exposure as she tosses the coin back into the hat. *
*She giggles with delight as the coin bounces around the hat and finally rolls to a rest inside the hat. In celebration she presses herself against Predel as she hugs him*
*All in all her actions are complete copies of his actions. When he claps and laughs so does Loviana and when he boos and hisses so does she.*
*Loviana allows Brother Predel to guide her as she keeps her body close to his with the intention of given the impression of young lovers to those they pass*
*Her thoughts are dark and betray the disappointment and slight rejection she is feeling, A Street show? What is wrong with you Predel? Do you not find me attractive? Isn’t there a single idea in your head on what you should be doing with me right now?*
*As they set and watch the street performers Loviana leans down slightly, exposing more of her cleavage to Predel and any of the others in the area that happen to be looking at that time, she reaches for a stray coin that had ran and rolled along the ground away from the hat. Looking out of the corner of her eye she tried to judge Predel’s reaction to her exposure as she tosses the coin back into the hat. *
*She giggles with delight as the coin bounces around the hat and finally rolls to a rest inside the hat. In celebration she presses herself against Predel as she hugs him*
*All in all her actions are complete copies of his actions. When he claps and laughs so does Loviana and when he boos and hisses so does she.*
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linnorm
Explorer
Ralam Human Male Rogue 5 / Assassin 7
After Hasord finishes, Ralam flags a wench and sends Hasord another ale and a message inviting him to join Ralam at his table.
"Good evening sir. I happend to run into your cousin today and he said that you are looking to make some purchases and that I may be able to be of some service in that regard. I'm sure that whatever you need I can procure."
After Hasord finishes, Ralam flags a wench and sends Hasord another ale and a message inviting him to join Ralam at his table.
"Good evening sir. I happend to run into your cousin today and he said that you are looking to make some purchases and that I may be able to be of some service in that regard. I'm sure that whatever you need I can procure."
Rybaer
First Post
*This is absurd, Torr thinks while trying (poorly) to maintain a placid demeanor. They think I need help? I never work with others...and I can't imagine most other assassins would be very comfortable with such an arrangement either.*
"I see," Torr says once Hasord is finished explaining the job. "So, your cousin feels that it would be better to have someone help me with this job? I'm uncomfortable with that style of work. What manner of arrangements need to be made? Day, time? Will I even meet this other party or is my portion to be compartmentalized?"
"I see," Torr says once Hasord is finished explaining the job. "So, your cousin feels that it would be better to have someone help me with this job? I'm uncomfortable with that style of work. What manner of arrangements need to be made? Day, time? Will I even meet this other party or is my portion to be compartmentalized?"
Aekir sizes up the room, making Wode wait as he looks at who looks dangerous and who hides it better, finally he turns back to Wode, “This is acceptable.” His voice carrying a finality to it.
Aekir waits for his money and then leaves. He moves through the night quickly, and several blocks later makes an abrupt turn down a dark alley, and quickly assumes the form of a rat and scampers back to the end of the alley, waiting to see if he has been followed. Waiting for a half an hour he will move through the streets as a rat till he reaches his boarding house.
In the morning he will find and drink the soul of a small bird, assume that form and begin the process of staking out the Kissaken estate and the comings and goings of Irene Kissaken.
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*Loviana, when you bent to get the coin, Brother Predel flushed rather becomingly. During the show, though he does his duty to give a good show of attention to the acrobatics, he keeps stealing glances out of the corner of his eye. Though he seems quite impressed with your beauty... among other things, he acts as a perfect gentlemen.*
[OOC: Rolled an 18, for a total of 26. Predel seems to like you a lot, but he doesn't seem to be willing to go further.]
*Torr, when you ask your question, Hasord takes another drink and looks around the bar. Suddenly he smiles, and waves over another man. Neatly and fashionably dressed, this man moves with grace and elegance.*
"Your co-worker for this job. My cousin employed him before. Marvelously clever lad. Jass, he's called," Hasord says genially.
*Ralam, Hasord looks out over the room, locks eyes with you, and waves you over. Jass is a name that Hasord uses for you, to avoid bandying your real name about it public. He fills you in on what Torr knows about the job, then gets to the meat of the questions.*
"My cousin needs you both Fourthday, when the evening service bells toll. Two working together will be better than one, and my cousin is footing the bill, so I'm not one to argue with him," he says pleasently, but with a hint of steel beneath his silk voice.
*Aekir, you notice no one tailing you, and return to your room in good time. In the morning, you fly over Carter's Square, and soon find the home and business of Thom Kissaken, the cloth merchant. His wife doesn't rise until later in the day, nearly noon, but then leaves for the market with a couple of maids and a manservant to act as a porter. True to form, she doesn't stop talking for hardly an instant, stopping to talk with every other merchant's wife, head of household, and stall runner she sees, and chattering with her maids when no one else is around to talk to.*
[OOC: Rolled an 18, for a total of 26. Predel seems to like you a lot, but he doesn't seem to be willing to go further.]
*Torr, when you ask your question, Hasord takes another drink and looks around the bar. Suddenly he smiles, and waves over another man. Neatly and fashionably dressed, this man moves with grace and elegance.*
"Your co-worker for this job. My cousin employed him before. Marvelously clever lad. Jass, he's called," Hasord says genially.
*Ralam, Hasord looks out over the room, locks eyes with you, and waves you over. Jass is a name that Hasord uses for you, to avoid bandying your real name about it public. He fills you in on what Torr knows about the job, then gets to the meat of the questions.*
"My cousin needs you both Fourthday, when the evening service bells toll. Two working together will be better than one, and my cousin is footing the bill, so I'm not one to argue with him," he says pleasently, but with a hint of steel beneath his silk voice.
*Aekir, you notice no one tailing you, and return to your room in good time. In the morning, you fly over Carter's Square, and soon find the home and business of Thom Kissaken, the cloth merchant. His wife doesn't rise until later in the day, nearly noon, but then leaves for the market with a couple of maids and a manservant to act as a porter. True to form, she doesn't stop talking for hardly an instant, stopping to talk with every other merchant's wife, head of household, and stall runner she sees, and chattering with her maids when no one else is around to talk to.*
Brother Shatterstone
Dark Moderator of PbP
Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)
*Loviana cannot help but smile at her perfect gentleman while thinking Acts and people can be deceiving, I should know I am, but something is telling me you are what you seem to be, a perfect gentleman.*
*She smiles and scoots a bit closer to brother Predel her thoughts continue, Which is always nice, their much more in tune, much more willing to do it right.*
*As she moves herself into a sitting hug with him, their inner arms wrapped around each other with his arm resting on her shoulder and hers on his waist, she scorns herself for her goddess, What is wrong with myself today? It’s always a pleasure to serve you my goddess, no matter what. Even the cleric of Ghaunadaur that was so fat that I could barely straddle him, let alone feel him, was a pleasure that could only be cast down to me by your hand my goddess.*
*Loviana with her free hand slides it slowly, but casually, down Predel’s thigh till it comes to rest upon the knee closer to Loviana, I wonder if the fat pig even realized he had missed, but my goddess, I thank you a thousand times over for this reward.*
*Like a giant cat stalking it's prey, Loviana stares deeply into Brother Predel’s eyes with a charmed but not quite so innocent look she had before. As her lips linger close for a kiss her mind urges him, Come to me my reward... Come to me my prey…*
*Loviana cannot help but smile at her perfect gentleman while thinking Acts and people can be deceiving, I should know I am, but something is telling me you are what you seem to be, a perfect gentleman.*
*She smiles and scoots a bit closer to brother Predel her thoughts continue, Which is always nice, their much more in tune, much more willing to do it right.*
*As she moves herself into a sitting hug with him, their inner arms wrapped around each other with his arm resting on her shoulder and hers on his waist, she scorns herself for her goddess, What is wrong with myself today? It’s always a pleasure to serve you my goddess, no matter what. Even the cleric of Ghaunadaur that was so fat that I could barely straddle him, let alone feel him, was a pleasure that could only be cast down to me by your hand my goddess.*
*Loviana with her free hand slides it slowly, but casually, down Predel’s thigh till it comes to rest upon the knee closer to Loviana, I wonder if the fat pig even realized he had missed, but my goddess, I thank you a thousand times over for this reward.*
*Like a giant cat stalking it's prey, Loviana stares deeply into Brother Predel’s eyes with a charmed but not quite so innocent look she had before. As her lips linger close for a kiss her mind urges him, Come to me my reward... Come to me my prey…*
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