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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5237520" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 31, Part 5</p><p></p><p> Harold lay in wait under the officer's bed, waiting for the woman to finally go to sleep. She'd come in, sharpened her sword for a while, then had chatted with someone who came to the door about some uncooperative new recruit. He watched their feet from under the bed, gritting his teeth at every minute of wasted time. <em>People are dying in the Crystal Towers as you chatter about nothing!</em></p><p></p><p> Finally, the other officer wandered off and the woman came back next to the bed and took off her boots and uniform, sliding the boots under the bed and hanging the uniform up in the wardrobe before laying down. Her small lamp was on for a while longer as she read a book. Harold considered killing her then, but the risk of her rousing the alarm as he attacked was too great.</p><p></p><p> Then the book thumped onto the nightstand, she blew out the lamp, and the bed frame creaked as she settled in. Harold waited another ten minutes or so, then <em>stepped</em> out from under the bed. The woman lay sleeping with her back turned to him. All he saw was her hair splayed out on the pillow, a thick blanket pulled up next to her chin. Harold took two steps towards where her sword hung from her chair and drew it quietly. He tested it a few times in the air and was disappointed. It was well-made, but it didn't have the feel of a magic weapon– like the weapon was reading your mind and going where you wanted it before your body had even begun to move.</p><p></p><p> He sighed, walked over to the bed, and silently dispatched the woman.</p><p></p><p> After wiping off the blade, he walked to the hallway and peeked out. It was lit by several lamps, all the doors closed and dark but the one adjacent to the room he was in. It lay open a bit, flickering light and a soft lullaby emanating from inside. He counted the doors, memorized their positions, then silently pulled door to the room he was in closed.</p><p></p><p> Five minutes later, all the officers were dead except the singing woman. Not one had stirred from sleep to sound an alarm. Not one had a weapon of even minimal arcane potency – though one had a longbow and a quiver of arrows that looked ancient on display over the bed.</p><p></p><p> Harold stood in the hallway outside the cracked door with the bow now, testing the weapon's pull and nodding as he drew an arrow and nocked it.</p><p></p><p> When he kicked the door open and stepped in, he stood facing a young blond woman sitting in a chair in a nightgown, frozen in the midst of braiding her hair, the lullaby forgotten as she stared at him with a gaping mouth. The woman looked too young to be an officer and her face reminded him of a beautiful young woman he had half-fallen for back in the Crystal Towers of his youth, a young woman that had probably been cruelly murdered by some Ashen Towers monstrosity by now.</p><p></p><p> He put two arrows into the woman's chest before she had a chance to scream, the force of the arrows striking throwing her out of her chair and slamming her against the wall. She clutched at them gasping, staring at him in shock as he put a third arrow between her eyes.</p><p></p><p> After a perfunctory search of her weaponry, he grabbed her lamp, pulled out the burning wick, dumped the oil inside onto the bed and tossed the wick onto it. The room was a raging conflagration in seconds.</p><p></p><p> Harold <em>stepped</em> back to his perch on the factory that overlooked the estate, watching the barracks burn with grim satisfaction. <em>With that distraction, time to recover my weapons, find Hadral, and make her pay.</em></p><p></p><p> <em>Step.</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5237520, member: 60965"] Session 31, Part 5 Harold lay in wait under the officer's bed, waiting for the woman to finally go to sleep. She'd come in, sharpened her sword for a while, then had chatted with someone who came to the door about some uncooperative new recruit. He watched their feet from under the bed, gritting his teeth at every minute of wasted time. [I]People are dying in the Crystal Towers as you chatter about nothing![/I] Finally, the other officer wandered off and the woman came back next to the bed and took off her boots and uniform, sliding the boots under the bed and hanging the uniform up in the wardrobe before laying down. Her small lamp was on for a while longer as she read a book. Harold considered killing her then, but the risk of her rousing the alarm as he attacked was too great. Then the book thumped onto the nightstand, she blew out the lamp, and the bed frame creaked as she settled in. Harold waited another ten minutes or so, then [I]stepped[/I] out from under the bed. The woman lay sleeping with her back turned to him. All he saw was her hair splayed out on the pillow, a thick blanket pulled up next to her chin. Harold took two steps towards where her sword hung from her chair and drew it quietly. He tested it a few times in the air and was disappointed. It was well-made, but it didn't have the feel of a magic weapon– like the weapon was reading your mind and going where you wanted it before your body had even begun to move. He sighed, walked over to the bed, and silently dispatched the woman. After wiping off the blade, he walked to the hallway and peeked out. It was lit by several lamps, all the doors closed and dark but the one adjacent to the room he was in. It lay open a bit, flickering light and a soft lullaby emanating from inside. He counted the doors, memorized their positions, then silently pulled door to the room he was in closed. Five minutes later, all the officers were dead except the singing woman. Not one had stirred from sleep to sound an alarm. Not one had a weapon of even minimal arcane potency – though one had a longbow and a quiver of arrows that looked ancient on display over the bed. Harold stood in the hallway outside the cracked door with the bow now, testing the weapon's pull and nodding as he drew an arrow and nocked it. When he kicked the door open and stepped in, he stood facing a young blond woman sitting in a chair in a nightgown, frozen in the midst of braiding her hair, the lullaby forgotten as she stared at him with a gaping mouth. The woman looked too young to be an officer and her face reminded him of a beautiful young woman he had half-fallen for back in the Crystal Towers of his youth, a young woman that had probably been cruelly murdered by some Ashen Towers monstrosity by now. He put two arrows into the woman's chest before she had a chance to scream, the force of the arrows striking throwing her out of her chair and slamming her against the wall. She clutched at them gasping, staring at him in shock as he put a third arrow between her eyes. After a perfunctory search of her weaponry, he grabbed her lamp, pulled out the burning wick, dumped the oil inside onto the bed and tossed the wick onto it. The room was a raging conflagration in seconds. Harold [I]stepped[/I] back to his perch on the factory that overlooked the estate, watching the barracks burn with grim satisfaction. [I]With that distraction, time to recover my weapons, find Hadral, and make her pay.[/I] [I]Step.[/I] [/QUOTE]
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