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"Was this killer caught?" Asran demanded of the guards nearest him. "What became of the chase on the roof?"

"We don't know, sir," one of the guards replied. "All we know is that several archers have joined the chase. Stay calm, sir. Some of the most able people in Cythera are after him, and there are more here in this room. The killer will soon be in custody."

Somewhat worried, Asran turned away. As he did so, he saw a guard entering the room. The man was winded and had obviously been running. Perhaps, he had news.

Unobtrusively, he followed the guard through the crowd. The man headed to Lindus and took him aside, out of earshot for most of the crowd. However, Asran with his Elvish hearing strained to overhear and managed to do so.

"Well?" the old mage asked, sounding very tired and very old right now.

"Ill news, sir, the assassin managed to escape in the dark on the roof," the guard said softly. "Worse, there's been another casualty, maybe several more."

The two moved further off to continue their whispered conversation, and Asran turned away frowning. He figured he had better keep this news to himself for now. Obviously, that is what Lindus and the guards would want at least.

Ill news, indeed, he thought to himself sadly, and on what was supposed to be an occasion of joy too!

This post has been edited by Selax: 22 March 2007 - 01:28 AM

Jehezekel was practising his dance steps off to the side, and observing the crowd, so he soon caught wind that odd happenings were afoot. But he assumed that the guards would take care of it, and didn't want interference, so he continued practising, and gradually stopped paying attention to the room as a whole.

Silver sat calmly on the hors d'oeuvre table, and told stories to whoever cared to listen. He was just in the middle of telling about his fight with Kitran in the Alraeican Tavern, when Lindus made his announcement.

Jehezekel hurried to the guard room to retrieve his machete, (though it wasn't bad looking, for a machete, it was not fancy enough for a peaceful wedding), and went in search of someone who could tell him how to help.

Silver instigated a game of Gecko, Gecko, Ratlizard with the children, and hoped it would keep them all in the ballroom, away from the assassins.

This post has been edited by Jehezekel: 24 March 2007 - 06:27 AM

Cat was, by now, getting the hang of the steps. She and Kerran made a wonderful pair, both with natural rhythym, and both as supple as snakes.
The music changed into a more lively tune, and the faun smiled.
"I know a special dance for this sort of music." he said.
Teaching Cat the few steps was easy enough, and soon they were both stomping and weaving in circles, a beautiful dance that was about as simple as it looked complex. It was a mirror dance, a few basic steps intertwined with whatever the couple felt like doing. Each followed the other, inventing steps as they went. Soon others in the room were catching on to this new dance, and before long a large group was following Cat and Kerran's lead.
All too soon the music changed again, and Kerran sighed.
"I miss Ocra. She's a wonderful dancer. Almost as good as you." he said, and was surprised when Cat turned red. He hadn't realised he had complimented her.

This post has been edited by CrazyChick: 25 March 2007 - 05:25 AM

Brianna finished the dance with her current partner and returned to the table at which the Scribe was seated, declining regretfully several requests for the next dance along the way. She sat elegantly beside her grandfather. Leaning close, she murmured in his ear.

"Something's going on, isn't it," she stated. "The mood's changed."

The Scribe nodded sombrely. "Indeed, yes. The guards are behaving like ants with their nest kicked over. And notice, Sideline, Katerei and the Ronin are nowhere to be seen."

"Figures they'd be in the thick of it, somewhere. Do you think there's anything we can do to help?"

The Scribe thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I very much doubt it, my dear. Whatever's happened has happened already, and not near here. While tracing our companions may well be within the capabilities of your alter ego, they already have a large head start." He sighed regretfully. "No, I suspect that if our friends should need us, they'll find a way to contact us here. In the meantime, why don't you enjoy a dance with that handsome young man that's looking hopefully in your direction?"

Brianna shook her head, in turn. "Not right now. My heart wouldn't be in it."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Sideline opened his eyes, wincing slightly at the pain in the back of his skull. "You didn't have to hit me," he groaned, taking in his surroundings with quick glimpses from behind lowered eyelids. He tested the ropes he felt holding his wrists together behind him, and found them adequate. "If you didn't want me to know we were going to the hidden catacombs, you could have just covered my eyes."

"'Ere, 'ow did 'e know where we was?" a rough voice emitted from somewhere to his right. Thugs: one, Sideline counted.

"Because I've been here before, idiot."

"Now, now, sir, there's no need to be rude." Sideline noted that the owner of the cultured voice was dressed in a nondescript brown robe. Brains: one. "The risk that you'd know where we are was one that had to be taken, but there was no need for us not to hope you would not, and act accordingly. You can hardly blame us for that, now, can you? Besides, it was a very small risk - unless you were under any delusion that you would be leaving this room alive?"

"I was kind of hoping to, yes."

Sideline's sally was met by raucus laughter. "Really, my good man, you're too droll. Do you expect us to believe you've arranged for someone to come and rescue you?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, boss, he's a tricky one." A new voice. "Look how he slithered right through our old hideout and released the mark, without any of us knowing he was there." The man gestured broadly, and Sideline wasn't altogether surprised to see one hand only had three fingers. Thugs: two.

"He never had a chance to arrange anything." Another new voice. Again, Sideline wasn't altogether surprised to recognise the guard that had held him at the gate for Trundaylan to deal with. "We've been watching him ever since that jumped up guard came and bundled him off to see Malis." Thugs: three.

"That's right," Sideline agreed, "when I re-entered Pnyx, openly."

The cultured speaker, the apparent leader, cocked his head to one side. "Are you suggesting that you had already entered the city without being seen, and arranged for someone to watch your back, even before you knew there was any danger?"

"I bet he could have done it, too," the eight-fingered man muttered.

Sideline smiled pleasantly. "Oh, it wasn't all that hard to figure out. The only connection I had with Malis or Danae was his kidnapping a few years back, so the only reason they'd have to try so hard to get me here was if you'd finally surfaced and threatened him, the only victim to ever escape you. Of course, he's been open and exposed the whole time, so why would you wait until now to go after him? And why here? The only explanation was that it wasn't him you were after, but someone else - someone you couldn't identify. Someone who'd interfered in your business all that time ago, and who you wanted to make damned sure wouldn't do it again. Me."

The leader's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Hindsight is a wonderful thing. You could easily have come up with that fiction, based solely on waking to find yourself here with us. Why would you walk into the snare, if you knew it was there?"

"The same reason you set such an elaborate trap. You sent the painted, eight-fingered hand to Malis just before his wedding, knowing he would send for me. In a controlled environment like the wedding celebration, you only needed to watch for any person to whom Malis paid undue attention. It was all planned just to draw me out - and I reversed it, used your own trap to draw you out."

"Bold words! But you forget - I have you prisoner. No, I see nothing to fear in your illusionary 'backup'."

Sideline shrugged. "Suit yourself, my friends should be here any minute. I should warn you, they're good friends - and very bad enemies."

A thoughtful expression crept over the leader's face. "I don't believe you - but there's no harm in being cautious. You men, go back up the stairs and check the hidden entrance. Make sure nobody's poking around." Exit thugs two through six.

"So", Sideline said to his two remaining captors, "while we wait, what shall we do to pass the time?"

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

At the top of the long, winding staircase one of the thugs, the erstwhile gate guard, released the door latch. A section of the wall twisted open about a vertical axis, forming a doorway into a disused storeroom. He rushed through, just in time for his head to meet an even bigger fist hurtling the other way.

"Ulf help Sideline!" a deep voice bellowed through the gap, as the unconscious guard somersaulted past his comrades and back down the stairs.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Sideline's eyes flew wide, as a man in a brown, hooded cassock walked slowly around a corner. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.

Without hesitation, the eight-fingered man whipped out a sword and sprang at the uninvited intruder.

The monkish man instinctively flinched back, flinging out a hand defensively. Violet lightning leaped from his fingers and speared his attacker, blasting him back against a wall. The eight-fingered man lay still, unseeing eyes wide open and empty.

The new arrival twitched back his cowl, revealing his terrifying features. {{ What... Why... I didn't mean... do you think he'll be alright? }}

This post has been edited by cache22: 27 March 2007 - 03:20 AM

Ilene sat quietly off to the side, nervously fidgeting with the folds of her dress. A queasy feeling had been growing inside her well before Lindus' announcement, and now she was even more tense. She looked around the room again, looking for any sign of her husband. His name hadn't been mentioned with the other murdered nobles, but she knew he was involved somehow.

A courier boy entered from one of the side doors with a distressed expression on his face. He looked around for a moment, as if he was trying to identify the recipient of his message. His gaze swept across the room several times, before settling on her. Her heart sank as he began to make his way through the crowd solemnly. She thought she knew what he was going to say, it had to be bad news.

The boy stopped in front of the lady sitting near her. Ilene let out a deep sigh of relief, realizing she had been holding her breath. The boy's message wasn't for her, instead he was uncomfortably informing the noblewoman that there would be a shortage of napkins at the dinner.

Her nerves tense, Ilene strode out of the ballroom and into the courtyard, hoping to get some fresh air to calm down. Everything was probably fine anyway, just like the other times. Her husband could take care of himself just fine.

"There you are," a familiar voice startled her. She turned to see Malis bowing apologetically, "Forgive me for disturbing you so abruptly." He grinned slightly, "It took a while to figure out a way to escape from the endless politics with the other houses outdoing each other, proclaiming their support of my marriage," his said, but then his grin faded. His gaze locked onto her, and the expression in his eyes made her turn stone cold. He cleared his throat, as if to cover for an uncertainty on how to start, but deep within, she knew what he was going to say.

"I have some bad news," Malis paused, probably because he knew she knew what this was about. "Your husband, Trundaylan..." his voice sounded on the verge of cracking, so he paused a second as if to steady himself, "He was chasing the culprit and...he's- he's dead." Her knees weakened and it took all of her effort to not collapse on the floor. Her darkest fear, the ever-present possibility that one day he might not come back, had come true. Malis went on, explaining in broken speech how he had chased the assassin onto the roof, but Ilene was too fixated on her loss to hear. Trundaylan was gone. Forever.

Malis saw her weakening and held onto her, "I know this isn't want you wanted to hear, and it most certainly is not something I wanted. He was a good man..." he sniffed deeply, as if to hold back his tears. "I want you to know that I will do whatever I can to look after you and your daughter. And if there's anything you need..."

She thanked him, biting her lip to hold back her tears. Malis looked at her for a moment longer. "I've got to get back..." She nodded, she knew people were waiting on him. "Ilene...I'm sorry," With one final look, he headed back inside, leaving her alone in the dark.

She sat down on one of the benches and let the tears stream down her face. She didn't care if anyone saw her as she grieved for her loss.

Ilene heard the soft footsteps of someone approaching. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve (her handkerchief was too soaked to be of any use) and looked up. A blue-tinted woman she recognized had crept up.

"I'm sorry, for what happened..." Katerei began. She sat down hesitantly next to Ilene and began nervously talking about what had happened on the rooftop. The elf-like woman's words had a soothing effect as she invoked memories of the dead guardsman.

"A rooftop battle in Pnyx..." Ilene murmured as a smile crept onto her face. "That certainly sounds like something he would do." She paused to relive the past for a moment. "Shortly after he proposed to me, he vanished for a couple months, so I thought he had gone off eloping with some other woman. When he showed up again, he was protesting his innocence with some grand story about an adventure that started below some tavern in Cademia. I didn't believe him at first, I mean, who goes around digging up holes in bars? It wasn't until some time later that I found out he was telling the truth, and that before he settled into a steady job with Malis, he did crazy stuff like that on a regular basis," she chuckled.

Ilene looked over at Katerei and grasped her hand. "Thank you for telling me," she smiled.

Katerei smiled back, if a bit more uncomfortably, "He was a good friend."

Ilene nodded, then stood up. "Well, I probably should head to my room early tonight. I don't want to spoil the mood at dinner," she said as she straightened out the wrinkles in her dress. "Oh, by the way, where's Mariya? She's probably hungry and I-" Ilene stopped as she heard the quiet intake of breath. She looked over and saw the color drain from Katerei.

Ilene shivered as the cold feeling of dread returned.

As Malis reentered Pnyx he was greeted by a captain of the guard. The man bowed deeply in his trim white uniform, “Rise Byran, how is the search going?”

The officer shook his head, “I’m sorry my Lord, we have yet to find anything but my men will not give up, this fiend will be caught I swear it.”

The man spoke with grim conviction, if only Malis could bring himself to believe those words, “Carry on then. I have a matter to attend to, you may find me in the library when you have more to report.” The officer bowed once more before hurrying off, leaving Malis to watch his retreating back for a time before leaving as well.

The lord slipped a hand into his robes, finding a small silken pouch, heavy with the weight of coins. He frowned, hoping that his carefully laid plans hadn’t been for naught, Trundaylan and Propontis were grave tragedies and another had to be averted at any cost. He hadn’t realized how far he had walked when he found himself at the doors to Pnyx’s library, shaking off his thoughts he entered quietly. There were few people there, because of the party and the recent deaths, and all of them were servants who looked up as he arrived. He inclined his head slightly to them, “If I may I would like a few moments alone to think.” The handful of servants looked to each other curiously, but they made no objection and murmured their apologies as they quickly left.

Malis closed the door behind them and locked it, breathing a sigh. He walked over to one of the tables and had a seat in a nearby chair. All that was left to him was to wait…

**

Guards rushed through the halls, their swords bare and ready for anything after the assassination of a high noble. A large man in a plain brown cloak breathed a sigh of relief from the darkened room he hid in as the soldiers passed. He peered out into the hall, the torchlight falling upon a cruel scar that ran across his face, and he eased his sword out of its sheath with his right hand. As he pulled the sword free the cloak fell open, revealing a young girl, unconscious, bound, and gagged, whom he held to his broad chest with his heavily muscled left arm.

Light on his feet for such a large man, he sprinted from the room and down the hall with his cloak flowing out behind him. He was almost in the clear. The assassination was a far better distraction than he could have hoped for, that Rapierian had lived up to his end of the bargain well, and now the mercenary wondered if the other group had been able to use it as well as he had and eliminate that rogue. Taking care to listen for anyone approaching the man eased open the wooden door to the stables, his hand tightening on his sword’s grip.

The stables were shadowed and quiet, the night air coming in on a breeze from an open door and stirring the hay that lined the floor. The mercenary eased into the shadows, closing the door behind him, and began a quick study of the horses to find a suitable mare for fast riding. A soft voice drifted to him from deeper inside, “… there there Jezebel, don’t let all this ruckus get you riled up.” Eyes narrowing the mercenary crouched down low to lay the child he carried onto a small pile of hay, and then crept around the room to get a glimpse of the speaker.

A young man with blonde hair dressed in a gray tunic was taking a brush to the mane of a brown gelding, softly patting the beast and speaking in soft soothing tones. The guards could return at any moment, there was simply no time to wait for the boy to leave. The mercenary stood to his full height lifting his sword to the ready as he took a slow step forward, and he flinched at the sound of something cracking under his boot. The young boy whirled around as he heard the sudden noise and the mercenary rushed forward, lunging viciously. The boy’s cry for help was silenced before it began, a blossom of red mist staining the air as the mercenary’s blade emerged crimson from the boy’s back. As the child’s gray robes darkened in a pool of scarlet the mercenary removed his blade, pushed the young man to the floor, and wiped the blood from his sword.

He hurried back to where he left the young girl, still sleeping under the power of the drug he had given her, and lifted her up easily. He made his way over to the same brown mare the boy had been calming, a docile animal that didn’t look like it would offer any protest to being ridden. He began to sheath his blade, but froze as he heard the soft melody of a flute being played behind him. He lowered the girl to the ground once more and slowly turned around, pulling his sword free. At the other side of the room another man stood in a fine night black tunic trimmed with silver and an obsidian cloak that almost shimmered. The stranger’s features were shadowed beneath his hood; the mercenary could tell his eyes were closed as he deftly played the dark flute worked in silver. A dark ring upon his finger bore a sapphire jewel that gleamed in a light that simply was not there. The mercenary took a threatening step forward, speaking in a threatening tone, “Who are you?”

The strange suddenly stopped playing and opened his eyes, they were a silvery color that almost seemed to glow and so cold the mercenary took a wary step back without realizing. The man lowered the instrument he held, “The last man you will ever see.” The words snapped the mercenary out of his shock and he rushed forward swinging his blade furiously, the stranger didn’t even attempt to dodge and the weapon crashed down upon his neck with a strange sound. The mercenary blinked as the image of the man wavered and then disappeared, revealing the post he had been standing in front of with the mercenary’s sword now driven deep into the wood. The large man pulled hard to rip his weapon free when he felt a hand laid flat upon his back, “A fool trusts his eyes.” The mercenary felt an intense heat that stabbed into his back like a set of blades and then ripped through his heart like a small whirlwind. He gasped only once before everything darkened around him, his grip on his weapon failing as he fell to the ground…

**

His cloak shifting in the gentle breeze the dark figure looked down upon the slain thug, a smoldering hole where the man’s heart had been. He turned his silvery gaze to the small girl who lay sleeping upon the floor. His work was not yet done, so he knelt by her and untied the ropes that kept her bound then scooped her up in his arms and walked into the deeper shadows…

**

Malis stood from his seat, pacing back and forth before the many rows of books. What was taking so long? Had something gone wrong? He stopped as he felt the chill from a breeze outside, only now noticing the window had been opened. Striding over to close it he stopped as he caught a shadow stirring at the edge of his vision and turned to see what it was. A man in dark robes and a black cloak stood cradling a small child and the lord gasped in recognition, “Mariya?!”

The shadowed figure gently laid the child upon one of the tables; his voice was that of a young man, surprisingly warm now for a person who always seemed so cold, “She is unharmed, only drugged to make her sleep. I have given her something to counter the effect, she will awaken soon though she will remember little if anything of this night.”

Malis walked over to the table, his eyes falling to the young girl with a mixture of pain and anger, “Was it the same people?”

“As those who committed the murders?” the figure shook his head, “No, but they all worked together, that much is certain. In the chaos that surrounded the earlier assassination I almost did not find her kidnapper in time.”

The lord shook his head, “Those animals. Where is Sideline, I haven’t seen him in some time.”

The man’s features were somehow clouded, even though Malis looked right at him, but his silver eyes remained clear, “Your rogue? He has foiled more of them, they came in stronger numbers than you had first suggested.” He looked out to the window, “It is time I took my leave.”

Malis nodded, reaching into his tunic to pull out a white silken purse that he tossed to the man before him. The small bag clinked from the coins within and figure opened it, removing a single gold piece. He placed the coin back then bowed his head to the lord. Mariya moaned softly on the table, and then yawned, pulling Malis’s attention away for a moment as he saw to her, “Are we still at the party?” she blinked tiredly as she sat up.

The lord smiled and walked over to her, “Yes we are dear, but I came here to read when I found you napping.” When he looked up the mysterious figure was gone, with a small smile he turned back to Mariya, “Now that you’re up, would you like to go see your mom?”

Still bound, Sideline flung himself bodily at his last remaining captor. The man lost his footing, and his head hit the floor with a satisfying thump. Watching him carefully in case he was shamming, Sideline levered himself awkwardly back to his feet. He shrugged his shoulders, and a small blade slipped out of his sleeve and into his ready hand.

As he worked at the ropes binding his wrists, he turned his curious gaze on the surprise intruder. "Mort, what are you doing here?"

{{ When the invitations came, I just thought it might be a good opportunity to see how much the place had changed in the last few hundred years. I never expected to run into anyone, down here. I didn't mean to hurt him - I just reacted. Do you think he'll recover? }}

"Not in this life, I'm afraid," Sideline replied, as the ropes parted with a snap.

{{ Gosh, I'm sorry - was he a friend of yours? }}

"Definitely not - in fact, they were planning to kill me." Sideline set about binding his prisoner with the remains of the ropes that he himself had been bound with.

{{ Oh. How awful! }}

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion from the winding staircase. The four Ronin appeared around a corner, accompanied by a slight flicker in the shadows that Sideline identified as Rythan. Ulf had the unconscious body of the traitorous gate guard tucked under one arm, blood dripping onto the stairs from his shattered face.

At the sight of the lich, Leandra slid to a halt with a gasp. Kwon dropped into a combat stance.

"It's all right," Sideline quickly called out. "Mort's a friend!"

"If you say so," the magess said, uncertainly.

"What about the other kidnappers?" Sideline asked.

"Dead," Rythan replied, emerging silently from the shadows.

"They didn't leave us much choice," Wolmark added.

"Well, at least we've captured two of them," Sideline said. "When they wake up, maybe we'll be able to convince them to tell us who's really behind all this."

Their attention was suddenly drawn to the body of the eight-fingered man. It was slowly climbing to its feet.

{{ I thought you said he was dead? }}

"He is."

{{ Then what's going on? }}

"Mort, what exactly did you do to him? What was that blast of magic?"

{{ I... I don't know. I just reacted, instinctively. }}

The body reached a standing position, and started to move in Mort's direction.

"Mort, I think you may have created yourself an undead minion."

{{ What!? No! I don't want... I didn't mean... No! Get away from me! Aaaaaagh! }}

Mort backed away, skeletal hands outstretched defensively. The eight-fingered man shuffled inexorably after him. Mort backed into a wall. Unable to retreat any further, he did the next best thing and faded from sight.

The undead kidnapper shuffled uncertainly for a few moments, then turned purposefully toward the stairs.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Trundaylan opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying in the middle of a faint pool of radiance, surrounded by inky darkness. The second thing was that there was no more pain. Third, that there was a young man sitting next to him on the hard, stone floor.

He slowly sat up. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Between."

"Between what?"

"Everything."

"You're being very cryptic."

"Am I?" The young man shrugged. "Sorry. I haven't had anyone to talk to for a long time. People usually pass through here too quickly to ask questions."

"Then why am I here?"

"You're the only one that can answer that."

"There must be a reason you're keeping me here."

"I'm not. You're doing that yourself."

"What? Why?"

Once more, the youth shrugged. "Maybe you have unfinished business, or some pressing reason to wait before moving on."

"This is getting me nowhere. Why are you here?"

"Because of how I died."

"Died? You mean - I'm..."

"Deceased? A hair's breadth from it. You must be very near the end, indeed, to be here like this."

"Then - there's a chance I could get back to my wife and daughter?"

Another shrug. "Who knows? All you can do, here, is hold on as long as you can. Once you leave, there's no going back."

"Who are you?"

The young man hesitated. "You can call me 'Mort'."

This post has been edited by cache22: 29 March 2007 - 08:21 PM

In his fortress in the far north of Cythera, Rapierian sat and pondered the situation.

By far, the most entertaining part of his evening had been the death of his uncle. Just thinking of it made him start laughing. He'd long since decided that he'd wipe out House Strymon. Now, he decided that he'd leave Halos and Mantinea (Propontis' wife and Rapierian's aunt) for last and see if he could drive them insane before he did kill them. Rapierian figured that might be amusing.

Next to that was that other group he'd made that deal with: he'd distract everyone with an assassination so they could grab Sideline and the child. In point of fact, the necromancer fully expected the group to lose both. He'd used them and their work to draw off anyone who might have been able to save Propontis (i.e. draw off some heroes with their kidnapping of Sideline, hopefully the ones most likely to notice something amiss).

That part had worked well: Scourge had been able to kill Propontis and a few people who'd tried to stop him, although he'd been unable to kill everyone on his list because of some unexpected interference. Still, Rapierian figured that being would be able to think of something.

At the very least, the secret negotiations between House Strymon and House Nicander were now hampered. Soon, the necromancer would ensure the revealing of these plans to all...

His thoughts were disturbed by Kitran's arrival. The daemon had a look of disgust.

"Useless beings," he said, obviously referring to some of the lesser daemons. "They can't even sneak into an empty library in a city with several diversions."

Rapierian shook his head.

Part of their plan had been for several such daemons to slip into the library during all the chaos, replicate a few books Rapierian felt might come in handy, and then return here.

The Amulet of the Dead was damaged and didn't work properly. The necromancer wanted those books because he thought they might contain a means to fix it.

Well, one couldn't have everything.

"Give our friends their severance package," Rapierian said, smiling as he leaned back and listened to the screams that followed...


The assassin was irritated. Several unanticipated factors had arisen and destroyed his plan.

After killing Propontis, he'd headed down one or two hallways to where Elder Philinus and Halos were supposed to be continuing Nicander's negotiations with Strymon. However, neither had been there.

Annoyed, he'd exited, only to bump into somebody. He'd headed out on the roof only to get lost because of the unfamiliar area. When he'd rounded the corner and encountered the guardsmen, his only escape plan had been to risk a jump. The killer had decided to wait on this plan until he had no other choice.

Fortunately for him, one had arisen and he'd been able to deal with the troublesome bodyguard. In the dark, he'd dodged his hunters.

Now, he began to think of how to continue his work.


In the city, the situation was still chaotic.

The guards had managed to keep everyone in the hall and even to find a few stragglers wandering the halls.

Suddenly, another runner entered and made his way to Philinus. A few seconds later, the Elder hurried over to Lindus.

Asran leaned in to try and overhear...

Leandra pressed her face to Wolmark's shoulder and wept. Behind her, Trundaylan's inert form had been reverently laid on a table. A strange light pulsed slowly from a spiral bracelet clasped tightly about his upper arm.

Sideline leaned against the wall to one side of the door with his arms tightly folded, silent, but scowling darkly. Kwon and Ulf were still outside the room, guarding their prisoners. Rythan stood inconspicuously against the wall on the other side of the door, showing little emotion, but observing events with curiosity. "Is there nothing more you can do?" he eventually asked.

Leandra sniffed, and wiped her eyes. She shook her head, sorrowfully. "I've tried everything I know, including a direct infusion of lifeforce by combining all the magic of the elementals."

Rythan pointed at the bracelet she'd fastened on Trundaylan's arm the instant she'd arrived. "What is that?"

"A Soul Binder. It can keep you alive for a time, if there's an ounce of life left in you - but it can't heal, and it can't bring back life where life has departed. It looks like we got here far too late." She took a shaky breath, turning to gaze with sadness at the body. "He saved Flynn's life, once; and now I find myself unable to return the favour. It's so unfair!"

Sideline ubruptly pushed himself away from the wall and stormed out of the room. Rythan followed with more decorum, leaving Wolmark to console his wife.

The two new, yet solid friends rejoined the two Ronin guarding the prisoners.

"Time for some answers," Sideline stated, flatly. "Rythan, feel up to a conducting a little interrogation?"

This post has been edited by cache22: 03 April 2007 - 05:05 AM

The night weighed heavily upon the city of Pnyx, its darkness oppressive with sorrow and fear. Guards still made their hurried rounds through the halls, however their drive was beginning to wane, if they had not captured the assassin yet it was unlikely that they would this night. Guard Captain Byran Pearce’s white uniform stood in contrast to his dark mood as he marched down the halls flanked by four skilled veteran guards he trusted deeply, all stone faced as they knew what they set out to do. Trundaylan was dead? Lord Propontis…

Through the night he his energy had shifted from capturing the assassin to learning why one had been sent in the first place, and his efforts were leading him down a road he did not like at all. He had examined the evidence at hand, spoken to several of the guards and servants, and gone through his own memories over and over. Still, no matter how he looked at things he always drew the same conclusion, one that chilled him to his core. Who had the money to hire an assassin of that skill? Who had a previous knowledge of the guests to attend the wedding? Who had the influence to bring such an elaborate plot together? Who would stand to gain most from the tragedy of this night?

Byran entered the main hall just outside of the ballroom, where Lord Malis stood consoling Ilene and her young daughter Mariya. Another young woman stood just off to one side, an Elvin maiden from her looks though her skin was a blue unlike any he had ever seen, but he dismissed her almost immediately drawing his sword slowly. Malis faced him, shock and confusion warring on the Lord’s face. As he spoke Byran could hear the four behind him draw their weapons as well, “In the name of the Land Kind I hereby pronounce you, Lord Malis, under arrest. Please sir, do not make this more difficult than it needs be.”

Ilene rounded on the guards her fury clear in her heated tear streaked gaze, “How dare you! A madman is on the loose and you have the gall to pull some ridiculous stunt, what charges are you bringing against him?”

Byran could not blame her for her anger and, though he hated to do so for the pain it would cause, he answered her honestly, “For plotting the murder of High Lord Propontis and hiring the man who killed both the Lord… and your husband.”

Her eyes widening, the color drained from Ilene’s face and she shook her head, “That’s… that’s impossible…”

The guard Captain shook his head, “I too did not want to believe, but here are the facts. Firstly, only Lord Malis and some of his most trusted guards knew about the arrival of Sideline and his party at this ball and his reasons for being here. The rogue was to stop a plot on someone’s life, yet somehow a trap was laid for him and he was captured, drawing the attention of some of his comrades and effectively keeping them from stopping the murder of the High Lord or aiding in the capture of the assassin. They could not have done this without the help of someone on the inside.

Second, Lord Malis has been acting suspiciously since the search for the assassin began, often going off to alone. Many servants have seen him walking into empty rooms and keeping himself confined in these places for long stretches of time.

Lastly, House Attis gains a great deal of power from your union with a mage of Pnyx, does it not Lord Malis? And with Lord Propontis now slain do you not stand to gain even more influence after the chaos of this tragedy?”

Malis shook his head, shocked by what he heard, “Captain Byran, please, this is insanity. We cannot let this tragedy tear us apart in this way, as we would be playing right into the hands of our enemies.”

Byran raised his sword, pointing it towards Malis, “I and a few of my men have seen you walking the halls, nervously hefting a small purse full of gold coins when you seemed to think no one was watching you. My Lord, where are those coins now.”

Malis blinked in surprise, “That’s… I…”

The Guard Captain shook his head sadly, “Arrest him.” The guards did as they were told while the others looked on in shock and it was a somber march down into the dungeons where they placed Malis in a cell under heavy guard.

**

Sideline led Rythan into a small storeroom, illuminated only by a magical torch, within a single guard stood watch over a man in a plain brown robe who sat on a chair with his hands bound behind him. One of the men who had nabbed Sideline earlier, the only one who survived, he looked up as the rogue entered, his sneer faltering as he winced from the lump he had on his head, “I suppose you have come to ask me to cooperate?” he shrugged in his seat, “Do not bother, I know nothing that might be of value.”

The soldier who had been keeping watch ground his teeth, turning to Sideline apologetically, “He’s been like this ever since he came to, says that he and his boys were working alone and now the rest are dead.”

Sideline cast a cold glare towards the kidnapper, one that melted the smile right off of the man’s face. Rythan stepped tapped the guard on the shoulder, “Go to the ballroom and find a woman with crimson hair and eyes named Maladera. She is a healer, tell her that Rythan must see her immediately and lead her back here, hurry.”

The soldier looked the dark warrior over, Rythan’s fine foreign armor seeming to confuse him, “Are you injured… my lord?”

The assassin turned his impassive gaze towards the kidnapper who was avoiding Sideline’s glare, his voice was cold and unnerving, “It is not for me.”

The guard hesitated for a moment, then bowed deeply and left the room at a brisk pace. As the door closed behind the man Rythan walked over to the prisoner, crouching down before him so they were at eye level with one another. The other found it hard to meet Rythan’s cold gaze, but something about it held his attention as the assassin spoke, “My friend is going to ask you questions, which you will answer truthfully. If I do not believe you, or if you feign ignorance, I shall make you regret it and in the end you will tell us what we want to know. Do you understand?”

The prisoner cleared his throat, steeling himself, and then met Rythan’s gaze evenly, “And what if I genuinely do not know the answer to one of your queries?”

The warrior shook his head slowly, “Then you will never leave this room.”

Just then there was a light knock at the door. Rythan turned to see a young woman enter wearing the same revealing black dress he had seen her in earlier, her red eyes taking in the situation quickly she looked down to where he crouched, her voice held a sultry quality that was part natural and part practiced, “Is he being foolish?”

The assassin shook his head, “Not yet, but we shall see.”

As the woman nodded and stepped forward Rythan stood and backed away from the kidnapper to stand next to Sideline. The two had come to an unspoken agreement which Sideline was unfamiliar with. The rogue glanced to the warrior who stood beside him, speaking softly so their captive could not hear, “What is she doing?”

Closing her eyes, Maladera stood before the prisoner, placing her right palm lightly upon his head, he shied away but his bindings offered him little room to retreat. A soft white light passed from her palm into the man, giving his skin a subtle glow for a moment before fading away. He sighed as a strange cool sensation passed through his body though he felt no different, “What did you do to me?”

Maladera smiled darkly without answering, and then turned to Rythan and Sideline, offering them a small bow before she left the room. Before answering the assassin strode around behind the chair, and tightly gripped the chains that bound the man’s arms. His voice was icy and without emotion, “From this point on, no matter what happens to you, you will remain conscious. You are free from passing out, fainting, or suffering from shock.” Without warning Rythan ripped the shackle’s chains thus freeing the prisoner, “And therefore I am free to do whatever is necessary.”

Thinking he had a chance at escape the man spun around quickly with a hard punch, yet Rythan caught the man’s wrist easily with his left hand. Crack! With a simple twist the man’s wrist was broken and he let out a cry of pain. Immediately Rythan shifted his hold then slammed the right palm into the man’s elbow with a loud snap, causing the prisoner to cry out in agony. A sweeping kick knocked the man to his knees, where Rythan turned the mangled arm at a wholly unnatural angle and pulled sharply, with a loud pop the shoulder was dislocated. The assassin released his grip on the now crying man, looking down on him with the same lack of emotion he had shown before. The guard from earlier rushed into the room, “What’s happened!”

Sideline stepped into his path, “Nothing. Wait outside, we aren’t done here.” The guard’s eyes feel to the badly injured prisoner and Rythan’s dark figure then they met Sideline’s eyes, colder than he had ever seen them. He shivered, “…Yes sir.”

Rythan spoke plainly to the prisoner as if nothing had happened, “Now, remember what I have told you.” He turned to Sideline and inclined his head, stepping away from the kidnapper.

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 04 April 2007 - 11:43 AM

Philinus pondered the situation.

He was worried. Propontis' death could have a major impact on the secret negotiations between Strymon and Nicander.

The talks had been going well, but now they were at risk.

He wondered if he should tell any of the authorities about the talks. Had Malis known about them, it was extremely unlikely that he would have had Propontis killed because a Strymon-Nicander alliance would have resulted in a true Strymon-Nicander-Attis alliance, strengthening his house's position.

However, he considered it unlikely that Malis had known; therefore, the talks had no bearing on the case...besides, if word got out, Philinus and his family would be in danger.

Anxiously, Philinus decided to hold his silence at least a little longer...


Around the council table sat Lindus, Captain Byran, several other master mages, Malis's wife Danae, and several other house leaders, including Malis's irate mother Mater Thuria.

"HOW DARE YOU! IMBECILES! HOW DARE YOU—" her tirade was cut off when Lindus lifted his hand.

"Milady, we are not certain that your son had anything to do with it," he said calmly. "We are still investigating things—"

At this point, Lindus too was interrupted when a guard burst in the door.

"Sir! Another body has been found! It's Nicander's majordomo! We found a note on his body!"

Quickly, the guard pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Lindus.

It read: This is a warning: release Lord Malis or another will die every day that he is held...

Jehezekel wandered the halls of Pnyx bemusedly, wondering where he was in relation to the ball-room. Finally he noticed some voices ahead, and forgetting caution, hurried to find their source.

"Are you sure this will distract them long enough for us to escape?"

"Assuming that our 'guard' isn't any dumber than he looks, we'll be fine."

Dashing into the room as he readied his machete for combat, Jehezekel saw two men standing nonchalantly by an unconscious form. In an instant, the machete was pointed toward them, "Hol-*thunk*

A man dressed in the guard's garb dragged Jehezekel's unconscious form over to the guard's side, "We'd better hurry."

"You got that message delivered safely?"

"Of course. I think I've finally found my calling, 'Rogue Actor', hahah"

"That's a nice blade he has. Take it, and we'll be going."

"NO, MAN! I'm not doing that again!!!" In response to questioning looks, he held up his badly scarred hand, "I met him once before, with the old gang. Let's go, fast."

The tone of his voice was such that they didn't question him, but did as he suggested, and beat a hasty retreat.

This post has been edited by Jehezekel: 07 April 2007 - 09:16 AM

Asran too was wandering the halls until he thought he heard a thump in one of the rooms he was passing.

Thinking it was the assassin, he pulled out his sword, threw open the door, and charged in—and promptly hit head on the low ceiling and fell down a flight of stairs...

Behind him, the door closed.

Thinking he'd heard a sound, a guard came around the corner and looked around. Seeing nothing, he shrugged and walked away.

This post has been edited by Selax: 08 April 2007 - 09:37 PM

Jehezekel regained consciousness, and with the help of the uniform-less guard who came to at about the same time, made his way to Lindus' office where he reported what he had heard.
~~~~
Silvy and the children rejoiced greatly when Mariya returned to them, and were soon playing another game together, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent of dread that was infecting the reception.

Katerei watched in stunned silence as Malis was arrested and escorted away by a half-dozen armed guards. Her gut instinct told her that something was wrong with the charges. First, Malis simply didn't strike her as the type to arrange a murder, no matter what he might have to gain from it. Second, he had nothing to gain by the death of one of his most trusted guardsmen, unless he had suspected Trundaylan was working against him- and Katerei knew Trundaylan would do no such thing. There was definitely something strange about it, and she wasn't content to just let it go.

Unnoticed by Ilene, she backed out of the main hall and found a small antechamber nearby that appeared to be a waiting room of sorts. She cast around for a container of sorts, finding an earthenware bowl on a side table filled with decorative flowers. Setting the flowers aside, Katerei magically filled the bowl with water, knelt in front of it, and weaved a spell over the bowl. The surface of the water rippled, taking on shifting colours and shapes. They were cloudy in appearance and melded together, swirling abstractly, but gradually became clearer as Katerei forced all other thoughts from her mind and focused her concentration into the scrying spell. Seeing the present was simple enough, but seeing the past was a considerably more difficult task- and she had a specific moment targeted.

When a solid picture formed on the water's surface, it was as if watching a moving painting. Malis was in clear view inside Pnyx's library, talking to another person, but the figure was facing the wrong direction for Katerei to see who it was. Her jaw dropped in astonishment as the unidentified figure laid Mariya out on a table, and she quickly cast another spell over the scrying bowl so that she could hear what was being said as well. Katerei listened to the brief exchange and watched as Malis handed over a bag of coins to the figure. That seemed strange as well, but it was enough to go on for now.

Katerei waved a hand and the water disappeared from the bowl. Forgetting in her haste to replace the flowers, she turned and dashed out of the antechamber toward the dungeon stairs. Her mind was racing ahead of her feet. Malis must have had a good reason for not explaining who he gave the money to, but she had gathered from overhearing the conversation that he was, at the very least, not responsible for the murders. Perhaps she could persuade the guards to hold off on his arrest for now- that is, if they would even believe her.

She arrived in the dungeons, out of breath, just as two of the guards were leaving. At the end of the dark, musty corridor, she could faintly see the other four guards posted around a cell, undoubtedly keeping watch on Malis. "Wait!" she cried, cutting the first two off from going back upstairs. "Malis is innocent! You have to let him go!"

"What's that?" the one apparently in charge snapped. "Who says we do? I was given direct orders that Lord Malis was to be kept under lock and key. He won't be released until those orders change."

"But they're wrong!" Katerei insisted. "He's innocent, I know he is! Please, you have to trust me, don't lock him-mmmph!" Her protest was cut short as the other guard's hand clamped over her mouth, and her arms were pinned forcefully behind her back.

"I don't know who you're working for, but trying to defend a man under arrest for murder and conspiracy won't look good for you," the head guard warned. "Don't interfere in things you don't belong in. We don't need people snooping around official investigations, and I'm going to have to make sure you don't."

Indignantly, Katerei tried to reply as she was hauled bodily down a corridor away from Malis' cell, but her speech was muffled by the guard's hand. Torch in hand, the head guard led the way to the far wing of the dungeons, where he unlocked a cell and held the door open as she was pushed inside. The door clanged shut behind her with a sound that made her stomach wrench. "We'll be back to deal with you later," the guard said, and the key clicked ominously in the lock.

She crumpled to the floor hopelessly as the guards departed. So much for that plan. Instead of freeing Malis, now she'd gotten herself imprisoned too- and no one else would even know that he was innocent. The night just kept getting worse and worse.

"What was that all about?" a voice said out of the darkness, causing her to jump in surprise. "You went and got yourself into trouble again?"

"Avatara!" Katerei exclaimed as the voice registered in her mind for the second time that evening. A blessing in disguise- she'd been locked up near him! Judging from the direction of his voice, he was a few cells down, so she couldn't see him from that angle- but they could still communicate. "I was trying to stop them- they've framed Malis for murder and have him locked up down at the other end of the dungeons- but they wouldn't believe me!"

"Oh, I'm sure they believed you," Avatara said darkly. "As a matter of fact, that's probably why they locked you up, to keep you quiet. You've really got to learn more subtle methods."

"What?"

"I recognized that guard's face and voice. It's one of the people I overheard talking before about the murder, though I didn't realize until I saw him in the torchlight that he was a guard- what's going on, anyway? Does that mean the murder happened already?"

Katerei quickly detailed to him everything she knew that had happened, from the time she'd first left the dungeon to warn the guards. "And now they're trying to pin it on Malis, but I know he didn't do it," she finished, having also explained what she saw through the scrying spell.

Avatara was silent for a long time. Katerei had heard the sharp intake of breath when she described Propontis and Trundaylan's deaths, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. "There must be a conspiracy among the guards," he said after what seemed like ages. "I doubt all of them are all involved, but that one that locked you up seems to be a ringleader of sorts. He must have tipped off the captain of the guard to arrest Malis and keep suspicion away from whoever's really responsible. They can't afford to have anyone speaking in his defense."

"But we're the only ones that know it," Katerei said in frustration. "And now we're both stuck here until someone comes back to let me out- which, if you're right, might be a long long time."

"We need to get a message out," Avatara thought aloud, but he felt his sense of despair rising rapidly again. This was the same problem he'd encountered before, only now there was even less of a chance of anyone coming by since everyone would be preoccupied upstairs. "I don't suppose you told anyone where you were going, did you?" The awkward silence from the other cell was enough of an answer.

Katerei stared moodily at the ground. She'd failed at everything tonight. She'd lost Mariya (resulting in the girl's apparent kidnapping), failed to warn the guards in time about the murder, watched helplessly as Trundaylan died in front of her, let the murderer escape, been unable to stop an innocent man's arrest, and had now got herself locked up in jail in the process. Nothing she tried to do worked out. What was the point in even trying anymore-

"Stop that," Avatara said irritably.

"Stop what?"

"I can practically feel the depressing thoughts radiating from you. Letting yourself get eaten alive by the mice isn't going to solve anything."

The blue woman blinked. "Mice?"

"It's a dungeon, what do you expect?"

"No, but- mice?" Katerei thought hard to herself. She couldn't fit through the bars of the cell door- but a mouse could. "Do they show up often?"

"Yes, there's one in my cell right now. What does that have to do with anything!"

"Send it over here!"

"How? Do you want me to throw it at you?" Avatara was busy thinking to himself and was not appreciating the seemingly irrelevant distraction.

"Just- just prod it out the door, so I can see it." Katerei could tell he was skeptical, but after a moment she could see a small furry animal scurry out under the lowest cell bar. Clicking her tongue softly, she slid a hand through the bars of her own cell door towards the mouse. Its ears perked up and whiskers twitched, and soon it had scampered down the corridor and into her outstretched hand. "I don't suppose you have any paper, do you?"

"What in Cythera are you on about? No, I don't have any paper," Avatara said incredulously.

"Never mind." There was the sound of ripping fabric, then it went quiet again. After a few minutes, he looked out of his cell in surprise to see the mouse scurrying past again, a small cloth bundle strapped to its tiny back. "Er-" he trailed off, speechless.

"Mouse messenger, on its way. There's a note for Danae, saying that we have proof Malis is innocent and that the guards are working against him. Also that being released from here would be really, really nice."

"You sent a mouse as a messenger," Avatara repeated flatly.

"Yes. I wrote it on a piece of my cloak, tied it on with some thread so it wouldn't fall off, and told the mouse where to go. Considering its size and the distance, it'll probably take about... half an hour to an hour to get there."

There was a pause from the other cell. "And if I may ask, what did you write with?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Katerei said dryly, magically healing the bleeding gash on her arm and tossing away the bloody stem of one of the blue flowers that had previouly decorated her hair.

This post has been edited by iKaterei: 11 April 2007 - 06:44 AM

Asran awoke to find himself in the dark at the bottom of the stairs.

Finding himself with a slight headache, he stared gloomily up the steps into the darkness.

This could be a long climb...


Rapierian considered the situation.

Malis had apparently been implicated in the death, and Philinus had decided to keep silent on the Strymon-Nicander talks for the moment, which had been expected.

There seemed to be no overt knowledge of the necromancer's involvement in his uncle's death yet. No doubt, it would soon come to light.

He wished to capitalize on Malis's apparent guilt, but he knew that trying to plant any evidence in the city with all the adventurers and mages it now contained would be next to impossible. In the end, all of that would be best left to Scourge.

That did not, however, prevent him from making sure that evidence against Malis would turn up in Attis's dwellings in Cademia.

Currently, Pnyx was in something of a lock-down. That the assassin was still on the premises was obvious. Of course, the city leaders were in an uncomfortable position in that regard.

Most of the guests would be wanting to leave the city soon, and, in truth, Pnyx would have difficulty supporting such a large number for an extended time (although Nutrient ensured that food anyway was not a problem) and House leaders would need to soon return to their duties. In addition, keeping them there could make them easy targets for the killer. (Although it'd be easier to eliminate them all at one time, they'd feel safer at home and so complain; in addition, the large number of them in the city would be a tempting target for the assassin.)

However, if the mages let them leave, they might lose a good chance to catch the killer. (Rapierian almost half-expected them to ask Alaric to come and find out who had committed the crime.)

The necromancer considered sending Kitran to attempt to find a way to retrieve the texts that he wanted from the library but decided to wait on those for a more opportune time.

Rapierian decided to focus for the moment on how to make Malis seem more guilty and to manipulate the situation with the Houses. He'd leave the rest to Scourge.

The deal he'd made with that other group had proved quite serviceable to him. It had given him another diversion for his goals and had a chance of deceiving people as to his intentions.

Pity that there are no crystal balls that project one's image to another place, he thought to himself.

He wished to go to Pnyx personally, but it was far too dangerous at this point.


At Pnyx, Argone paced nervously in a his room. The window was open.

At the moment, he was alone in his room, but he feared he would soon be contacted. At any moment, the assassin might appear and demand Argone's portion of his pay.

Argone was only a minor noble in Nicander, and, like many of his fellows in Nicander that had heard of Philinus's talks with Propontis, he'd been horrified at the thought of finding himself allied with House Strymon.

When he found that word of these secret negotiations had also been heard in other Houses—who disliked the thought of such an alliance as well but for different reasons—he'd taken a chance and approached some of them about it. Quickly, a temporary alliance—that included no House—among a few of them had been formed to deal with the problem.

They hadn't first wanted to have to kill anybody, but, after trying and failing to break up the talks, they'd felt they had no choice.

Not wanting to risk being found out, the group of nobles had risked approaching representatives of the necromancer Rapierian.

Tales had been circulating of the necromancer betraying a group of heroes. Almost immediately after this, he had somehow come into control of some kind of shadowy organization that appeared to control a large part of the Cythera underworld.

They had hoped that he might be amenable to their proposal and had been relieved to find him eager to do the job.

Now, Argone and the rest had begun to fear that the necromancer meant to betray them as well. Worse, they found themselves caught in a trap: Rapierian could easily threaten to expose them—and although it seemed doubtful that he would be believed by all, they feared that he would find a way to make sure that he was—but they had no real threat against him. In effect, he could easily blackmail them into obeying him.

Suddenly, he noticed a note on his desk. He felt a chill: that note had not been there when he'd last glanced at the desk.

Warily, he walked over and picked it up.

It read: Later.

For a moment, he was puzzled, but he quickly realized that this meant the assassin would wait to collect his pay until later.

Hurridly, he destroyed the note, closed the window, and locked it..

Helplessly, Argone sat on his bed and tried to think of a way out of the mess he found himself in.

A brown haired guard, dressed in his formal white uniform, made his march from the ballroom back to the dungeons. As he strode through Pnyx’s barren halls he looked cautiously back over his shoulder, his dark eyes surveying the corridor for a few moments, before continuing on. With all that happened the guards had virtually locked Pnyx down, the travel of the partygoers had become further and further restricted as the night wore on, and it left few people to wander the halls perhaps seeing something they should not. Roderick smiled, there had been a few small snags but things were now going even better than had been planned, that fool Byran arresting the Lord Malis was the best thing that could have happened. Now the group had the perfect scapegoat to pin its dealings on and if they could feed Byran the proper evidence he would fall for their ruse hook, line, and sinker putting his own Lord away for a lifetime.

Byran had always been so loyal, so determined in his duty, that Roderick knew what happened now was probably tearing the man up inside. The best part of it all was that Byran must have thought he was doing the right thing; it was hard not to laugh at such foolishness. As Roderick rounded the next corner something strange caught his eye as it scurried down the hall just in front of him, a mouse that seemed to be wearing a cape, he blinked in surprise, “What the?” The small rodent attempted to dash to the right and sprint past the guard as though determined to reach its destination, however his hand darted down and snatched at the cloth roughly. The string that had held the garment in place snapped easily and the mouse proceeded to scurry off in fear.

The man shook his head, looking down at the cloth in his hand. There was a message there, a bit hard to read as it was written in smudged red ink, he held it to the light to better understand the words and his eyes widened almost immediately. His fist closed tightly around the cloth, his face contorted with anger, and he turned on his heel ready to stalk down to the dungeons—“What was that you were reading?” the calm voice of an elderly man startled him and he whirled back around to confront the speaker. A man with solid gray hair and blue eyes stood before him with a warm smile, offering a small bow with a flourish of his shimmering cape, “So, what does it say?”

Roderick looked down at the parchment for a moment, then shoved it into his pocket before returning his gaze to the older man, “You’re that bard from earlier. What are you doing out of the ball room are you mad, there are killers on the loose.”

Mar Kaius merely shrugged, “I was out for a stroll, but you still have yet to tell me what was in that letter, it seemed rather important to upset you the way it did.”

The guard had enough, he grabbed the front of the old man’s green tunic roughly and pulled him closer, “Now you listen to me old man, get out of here right now or I will take you to the dungeons myself!” he pushed the bard away hard.

Kaius took two quick steps back and his smile slid from his face, “As you wish.” He offered a bow and then turned away, disappearing quietly around the corner.

The guard took a deep breath to calm himself and then continued on down the corridor for the entrance to the dungeons. First the prisoners try to escape and then a deluded old man starts asking questions, how ever much success there would be this night it was still filled with abundant and frequent annoyances. He reached into his pocket to take another look at the letter but his hand came away empty. Roderick frantically began looking around for the cloth, did he drop it was it misplaced? The color drained from his face as realization dawned upon him. The Bard! He must have snatched it when Roderick grabbed him, if he made it to the ballroom it could ruin everything. The guard set off at a dead run, sprinting around the corner in the direction the old man had gone.

As the guard rushed passed a figure silently peeled away from the shadows, his hood cloaking all but his silvery eyes in darkness…

**

The unexpected treachery of the guards had forced Seralcard’s hand, the blood message all but confirmed their involvement in the night’s events which meant that his contract had not fully been fulfilled. He reached the door to the dungeon quickly, pushing it open with little regard for what must wait on the other side as he no longer had the time to employ stealth.

A guard stood watch over the cells within, as the light from the hall spilled into the dungeon he looked up, clearly surprised to see a dark silhouette framed by the doorway. Seralcard rushed forward without hesitation, the guard’s hand went for the blade at his hip and he began to unsheathe it but Seralcard grabbed the man’s hand with his right and pushed down sharply, forcing the half drawn sword back into its scabbard. His left hand slammed into the guard’s throat to cut off a scream before one could begin and he wove an intricate web of fire through his palm. There was a crimson flash as the guard’s throat turned black as char and smoke rose from were the assassin held him. The spell was weak in power but extremely complex, having a similar effect to casting a fireball on someone from point blank range. The life was quick to drawn from the guard’s eyes as Seralcard let him fall to the ground. The assassin quickly closed the door, then knelt in the darkness searching for the guard’s keys.

**

Malis paced back and forth within his cold cell, wondering what to do. The circumstances falsely painted him as the mastermind behind the night’s tragedy and his only alibi was information that would only make his case worse. A muffled thud out in the corridor, followed quickly by a second, and then a brief but heated struggle. The commotion snatched at Malis’s attention, the Lord went over to the heavy iron banded wooden door of his cell and peered through the small set of bars near the top trying to glean what was going on in the darkness.

A man in a dark cloak stood over the prone forms of the four guards who had watched over Malis’s cell. It was that man. The Lord’s eyes went wide, “What are you doing here, your task is complete.” His gaze fell to the men lying on the floor and he shook his head angrily, “How dare you, you have murdered innocent men and for what?!”

The figure’s cold silver gaze appeared unmoved by the Lord’s anger, he loosely held a piece of cloth up to the bars, “My contract is not over until the threat has ended, and your threat is still very much alive. Read this.”

From his cell Malis glared at the assassin, he wondered if he should yell for help and confess to what he had hired the man for. The move would probably leave him with no way to clear his name of what happened this night, but at least one murderer would be brought to justice. Still…

Malis took the parchment and smoothed it over in his palm. In the darkness he struggled to read the words, but he managed to make out some of it. He gasped as he read on. His own guards had betrayed him? “Katerei…” he said the name as he read it over from the message. She was one of Sideline’s companions, the one who had chased down Trundaylan’s murderer and had struggled to save him, now she was captured as well. He shook his head angrily and looked into the hall once more where the silver eyed assassin waited impassively, “If your contract has not expired then you still work for me, you must free Katerei and do what you can to bring these men to justice.”

The assassin nodded, “And what of you?”

Malis took a step away from the door before turning away, “I have been charged under the law for these crimes. I will remain here until my trial is to begin.”

**

Katerei sat in her cell looking off into the darkness. A silence had settled over the dungeon, broken only when she or Avatara spoke, but they had decided not to risk being heard by the corrupt guards who kept watch over that dark place. In the oppressive prison little noticeably changed at all, one’s sense of time became fragmented. How much time had passed? An hour, two? She heard something strange in the hall, almost like a strangled cry, but afterwards there was only silence. Cautiously she rose to her feet, bringing up her guard as she heard keys rattling on the other side of the door...

**

Seralcard turned the old key in the heavy iron lock and opened the cell door. Within stood an azure skinned elvin woman, her long hair was blue as well, the fine dress that she had worn for the ball was now a bit stained and worn from her constant action throughout the night. She looked at the assassin strangely, as though he were not the person she expected to see but still she somehow recognized him. He recalled her from the ballroom, watching over the children when he had stopped to show them a magic trick, still disguised as a bard then, “Who are you?” her words were less of a statement and more of a demand.

He tossed her the set of keys to the other cells, “No one you want to know. Hurry, I killed six of your captors on the way in, their bodies lie out of view in one of the cells but someone is going to notice they are missing before long.”

This post has been edited by Ragnar0k: 16 April 2007 - 03:49 PM

Katerei looked at him skeptically, but she wasn't about to say no to freedom. Brushing past him into the corridor, she stood in front of Avatara's cell and searched through the keys for the right one as she spoke. "How did you know to come here and find us?" she asked.

"Your note fell into my possession. I'm afraid Danae would not have received it, so I took action instead."

"I see." Katerei had hoped her mouse would arrive at its destination, but she knew better than to bank on it entirely. This seemed to be the next best scenario. "And so you also took out the guards at Malis' cell?"

"Yes, but he refuses to leave his cell until he is either put on trial or the guards decide to release him," the strange man replied. "Fleeing will do nothing to clear his name."

"Staying there won't do much good either," Katerei muttered, as the key finally clicked in the lock, and the door to Avatara's cell swung open. "Come on... let's get out of here."

"What?" the voice on the other side of the door responded.

Katerei stared at him blankly. "Let's go. You heard him. We don't have much time."

"What do you need me for?" Avatara blinked in surprise.

"I need you to identify the guard that got me locked up. It's just going to be my word against his otherwise, and no one here knows who I am."

"And my word is supposed to help? I'm a criminal...a villain...a murderer. Who is going to believe anything I say?"

Katerei shrugged impatiently. "I don't know. I'm a criminal too, apparently. But it's got to be better than nothing. Malis isn't moving- I can't do this on my own, you know." She cast a sideways look at the other man. "Nothing against you, but I don't even know who you are."

The stranger nodded politely to her. "I'd like to assist you however possible, but I'm afraid I can't reveal myself to anyone else. Please, it would be best if you did not ask why."

"Well, there you go," Katerei said to Avatara. "Come on- I need you to back me up if we're going to get Malis out. At the very least, we need to find someone that will listen to us."

Avatara was silent for a moment. "You know, most people who kill a freemage in cold blood are hung. I managed to negotiate a less...harsh...deal, partially because of my history, but it was a deal made on faith, faith in me keeping my word. I turned myself in. And now I'm being asked to break out, which would go against everything I promised the magistrate. This isn't easy," he focused his gaze on Katerei.

Katerei felt her stomach go cold, like it had filled with ice. So that was why he was here. She had been half-hoping to not find out the reason, but there it was. "Well, you're not breaking out, you're being broken out. For gods' sakes, tell them I forced you into it, if you want. I have nothing to lose by being locked up. But good men have died tonight, and an innocent person is being blamed for it. No one else is going to be able to stop it. This is Malis' wedding night, and he's spending it in a jail cell! Don't you think we should at least try?"

Avatara grinned cynically, "I don't think I'd blend in with the crowd like this."

"Of all the possibilities, that's the predominant thing on your mind?" Katerei shook her head in disbelief. "I never blend in with the crowd, no matter where I go. Honestly, who's going to notice tonight anyway? All the guests are in their rooms, and half of everyone else is going to be dead if we don't hurry!"

After realizing that Kaius had not gone to the ballroom, Roderick quickly gathered a few of the other conspirators and, after sending some out to search the rest of the building, sent them to the dungeons. The guards quickly found that several of the guard posts were unmanned. Hurriedly, they split into groups. One checked Malis's cell and posted a new guard there. The other, consisting of one of Roderick's lieutenants and three other guards, headed to where Katerei and Avatara had been left.

They were almost there when it happened.

From the ceiling above them, a black shape dropped down onto the two guards at the back of the group. As it did so, two distinct snaps were heard, and the guards lay where they had fallen, their necks having been broken.

The lieutenant and other spun, the latter to take a dagger in the chest as he lifted his sword. Their attacker straightened and the remaining guard finally saw enough to guess who it was.

His face white, the guard took a step back and said, "Sc-Scourge! What are you doing?!"

The other took a step forward, seeming to sway haggardly.

"This one thinks you know too much about things you best not know," he rasped.

"I don't know anything!" the guard protested. "Anyway, they're going to free Malis! I don't think you want that to happen!"

"It'd be unfortunate...but not as unfortunate as a guard who knows too much...and might talk if caught" the other took a step forward and his hand twitched.

Before the guard could move or protest, a dagger was lodged in his throat. He gurgled and fell forward, dead before he hit the floor.

Scourge vanished back into the shadows. Whether or not the guard had known of Propontis' talks with Philinus and had guessed that several nobles had conspired against the Strymon Elder was moot now: he wouldn't be able to talk of it.

He had been right though when he said Malis was best left in jail, but Scourge already had other plots in motion along that vein...

This post has been edited by Selax: 28 April 2007 - 11:32 AM

The ball-room was nearly empty. Most of the guests had gone to their rooms, or were out trying to stop the mischief afoot. But a few couples remained, as well as one or two stray adventurers.

A gauzy metallic cocoon clung inconspicuously to the bottom of the refreshment table, and Silver slept peacefully, oblivious to the quiet babble of lovers' talk.

The strange assassin glanced through the crack in the heavy stone door for a moment, then beckoned them forward. He opened the door slightly more, spilling a wider crack of light down the dungeon stairs, causing Avatara to wince at the sudden bright glow. Momentarily blinded, Avatara leaned against Katerei heavily as he staggered up the steps and into the halls of Pnyx.

Even with his eyes closed, he knew when he stepped across the doorway. A breeze of fresh air greeted him, air that hadn't been trapped in stale corridors for ages. Slowly he opened his eyes, trying to let them adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Tell your friend we don't have time to linger here," he heard the man talk to Katerei. He felt her grab his arm and lead him unsteadily down the hall. Frantically blinking to adjust his eyesight, Avatara attempted to survey his surroundings, but it was still blurry. They rounded a corner, ducked through a doorway, and rounded another corner. As they hurried along to a more private location, the glowing blurs started to sharpen, and the light became less painful.

After a moment, he could see well enough to tell they were moving down yet another corridor. The glowing blurs turned out to be the magical glow crystals the mages stationed throughout the halls to light the city during the night. While they didn't glow all that bright, it had been months since he last was out of the dark catacombs.

"Better?" Katerei loosened her grip, sensing he was walking more steadily now.

"I think so, yes." Avatara looked at her, seeing her for the first time in the light. Her blue hair had grown out more, and she seemed a bit thinner. She also seemed more rigid, almost as if the wrong move would cause her to break down completely.

"Here," the man gestured into a small washroom. Avatara looked at him in confusion. "Take a few minutes to freshen up. Right now they can smell you coming a mile away," he tossed Avatara a small rag.

Avatara nodded and closed the door behind him. The room was empty save for a wooden bucket filled with cold water, a bar of soap, and a crude mirror on the wall. He soaked the rag in the water and stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection.

His greasy hair was now shoulder-length and colored gray from all the dirt and dust he had lived in. An equally dirty ragged beard covered most of his face. He had dark circles underneath his eyes from his irregular sleeping, and the faint lines of wrinkles were visible around the corners from excessive squinting. The simple brown woolen prisoner's robe he wore was ragged and torn in several places. His arms and legs had thinned considerably, he could see the veins and vessels snaking around his bones in places.

Avatara picked up the bar of soap and began scrubbing. A few moments later, his hair had mostly returned to its former black color, and most of the grime was washed off his face, but his thin complexion and unkempt robe would still mark him as a suspicious person.

The cloaked man softly knocked on the door twice and then entered. "Most of the guests are in their rooms, it should be easier to scan the guards now. Since the nobles are staying upstairs, we should start looking there," Avatara nodded as he left the dirty rag in the murky water and crept back out into the hallway where Katerei was waiting.

"I couldn't sense anybody near us, we should be able to get up the stairs without being seen," she looked at him for a minute before turning away and gesturing up ahead.

They crept along, the cloaked man leading the way, gliding from shadow to shadow like a ghost. Katerei was a bit more visible as she crept silently behind. Avatara brought up the rear, desperately trying to creep along quietly, but wincing as he heard the muted padding of his feet on the stone floor.

With careful skirting of two guard patrols, they managed to make it into the library undetected. The soft red rug was a welcome change from the cold stone. The library was quiet and still.

"I'll look around, wait here," the cloaked man whispered before heading back out into the hallway. They waited for a moment. Two minutes. Three. The stillness stretched on uneasily, all it would take was an unlucky patrol into this corner of the library and he'd be caught.

"Can you use your wolf sense to tell if anybody is near?" Avatara finally broke the silence. They couldn't wait much longer.

"I...I think so," Katerei murmured. She crouched against the wall and stared at him.

"What?" he frowned as she kept staring. She gestured pointedly towards one of the far shelves. "Oh," he turned away and crept to wait behind another row of books. A minute passed in silence.

A familiar figure moving somewhere to his right caught his attention. The cloaked man had returned, probably noticed they had moved, and was looking for them. Avatara crept closer, but as he did so, he noticed it wasn't the cloaked man after all. It was one of the guards, and while Avatara only had a glimpse of his back, he thought he recognized him.

Risking being seen, he crept even closer, shadowing the guard as he wound his way through the library. The guard paused at one of the inner walls, the door leading to the most guarded secrets, the eighth hall of magic. With a glance in either direction, the guard waved some sort of magical crystal in front of the door, and stepped inside. Knowing the door was guarded by a magical lock, Avatara hurried to the door and slipped in after him as the door clicked shut behind him.

The room wasn't lit as brightly as the library, since it was rarely used. Avatara took a few steps into the room, trying to adjust to the dim light. He saw a couple tables and shelves of various magical artifacts deemed too dangerous or too powerful to be stored in the lesser halls, but no sign of the guard he was pursuing.

"Who are you, what are you doing here?" A voice from behind him demanded. He spun around to find the guard glaring at him. In the pale light of a glow crystal, Avatara got a close look at his face. It wasn't the man he saw earlier in the dungeon, he didn't recognize the voice either. The guard frowned through his blonde mustache as he drew his sword.

"I'm placing you under arrest for trespassing."

A small blue wolf stood hidden between a large bookshelf and the library wall, sniffing the air cautiously. There seemed to be no sign of the assassin, or for that matter, of anyone besides Avatara and herself. That did not come as good news- they were too vulnerable to be able to wait much longer. Katerei was about to return to her normal form and tell Avatara they'd have to leave, when an unfamiliar scent met her nose, and the breath caught in her throat.

She crouched down to peer through the books on the lowest shelf, trying to see who was coming. They were quiet, but she could hear the footsteps treading lightly nearby. She caught just a glimpse of what looked like a guard's boots passing several rows down, then a moment later, the hem of a ragged brown robe sweeping past. Her eyes widened in horror. What is he doing?!

Katerei crept forward, the fur on her belly touching the ground as she kept low to try and keep out of sight. She couldn't sense anyone else nearby, but her heart was still racing at the thought of either one of them getting caught. The bookshelves blocked her view, but her sharp wolf's hearing caught the sound of a door opening and clicking shut again... then it went silent.

Confused, but confident she was alone now, she stood up and trotted towards where the noises had led to. She found herself staring at a door that had a distinct lack of any handle, knob or keyhole. Clearly, it was a magical lock- and there was no one in sight. A faint whine emitted from the disillusioned wolf. Now what was she supposed to do?

But she only had to wait a moment before the door opened again, and Avatara stepped out with his hands bound behind his back, followed by a guard with his sword drawn. Katerei's heart dropped through her stomach. She reacted without having time to think, powerful hind legs propelling her through the air to slam squarely against the guard's chest. Winded, the man fell backwards through the still-open door, but he had raised his sword reflexively when she jumped and the blade's edge grazed her left front leg.

Katerei yelped, more in surprise than pain, as she tried to regain her footing on the ground. Holding the injured leg up carefully, she bared her teeth in a growl, not wanting to take the offensive again but wary of him striking back. Although the guard seemed unwilling to skewer an animal, he had a job to do, and he raised his sword- only to slump over forward, stopped dead in his tracks.

"What was that for?" Avatara reprimanded the cloaked man, who had just reappeared. "Haven't there been enough deaths here tonight? It would have been quite sufficient to knock him unconscious."

The assassin took the opening crystal from the corpse, then pushed the body the rest of the way into the artifact room and shut the door, lest someone stumble upon it too soon. "We have to go, now," he said, choosing to ignore Avatara's criticisms. "Where's Katerei?"

Avatara pointed at the blue wolf, who was staring up at the assassin reproachfully. She felt distinctly uncomfortable changing forms in front of anyone, but the wound on her leg would make it too difficult to walk, and she couldn't heal it as a wolf. Sucking up her pride, she resumed her humanoid form and cast a quick healing spell over the long cut which was now on her arm, followed by a water spell to wash the blood away.

"That was rather excessive," she said acidly to the cloaked man, who was untying the rope binding Avatara's hands together. "We don't even know if he was on our side or not."

"Exactly," he replied. "Now let's go. The way is clear, but I don't know for how much longer." Wasting no time, he turned and led the way out of the library.

Katerei followed a few steps behind, feeling choked and blinking fast to hold back tears. One more on the death toll, and once again, she hadn't acted in time to stop it. She cast a glance over at Avatara and bit her lip nervously, wondering how much longer she would be able to keep it together without breaking down entirely.

This post has been edited by iKaterei: 11 May 2007 - 11:49 PM

Asran finally reached the head of the stairs, staggered out into the hallway, and collapsed on the floor.

"That-" he wheezed, "was a very long flight of stairs."

He staggered to his feet and stood swaying.

The elf looked around and realized that he was lost. Weary and annoyed, he headed off down a random passage.


Scourge was patient, very patient. The security around the place was tight, and, although he was fairly certain he could dodge it if need be, his other targets far less vital and security would only tighten. He'd wait and let them run around pointlessly for awhile. Maybe they'd catch somebody else and think he was the assassin. In any case, it no longer mattered to Scourge.

He would just kill the others later...

This post has been edited by Selax: 15 May 2007 - 12:25 AM

Jehezekel sat in the board room, doodling on his arm with a finger,*No wonder the Houses turn to intrigue, these meetings are SO boring!* A simian sylph was passing through the room, so he gave it a hat that was lying on the floor, and a goblet of Argon, and left it sitting on his chair as he slipped out into the hall.


*simian sylph: this creature can best be compared to monkey, only it has a sylphish body.

Many people had gone to sleep, but some people simply did not feel like sleeping. Some people didn't feel comfortable sleeping while they were locked in a building with a murderer. Some people had difficulties falling asleep when they weren't at home. Some people were trying to save everyone by sorting the whole mess out. Some people were just chatting and hanging out together. And Retsy and Enna were doing an important public service - making the tablecloths prettier by dyeing them with punch.

Of course, it is near impossible to dye tablecloths without drinking a bit of the dye, and this particular dye had a fair amount of sugar in it. As the girls drank more and more sugar, and went longer and longer without sleep, they got quite sloppy with their work. Eventually they came to a table and couldn't be bothered to even take off the tablecloth, they simply dumped an entire bowl of punch on top of it.

"Ooh, pretty design," Retsy beamed, watching the "dye" spread over the cloth.

Suddenly from underneath the table, the girls heard a cry of surprise, and Silverfish emerged, looking rather wet.

"He looks pretty pink!" Enna announced, and burst into hysterical giggles.

Retsy shook her head quite seriously and said, "I don't think he looks pink enough."

Silverfish looked slightly terrified, whether because of how he was woken up, or because his fate seemed to be in the hands of two sugar-high young girls. "I don't?" he asked finally.

"Nope," Retsy said. "I wonder if there's any pink paint around here? That'd probably work better on your skin."

Enna's giggles finally died down, and she asked, "what is 'paint'?"

"It's how walls change colour," Retsy explained.

"Ohhh! Silver's a wall?"

Both the girls stared hard at Silverfish, quite sleepy enough to believe that he was indeed a wall. "I'm, I'm not-" he stammered, and paused to try to wring the punch out of his nice clothes, "... Aren't you tired?"

"We can't sleep yet," Enna said suddenly, "they're here."

"Who?" asked Silvy.

"The blue horsies! Don't you see them?!"

"I... I think I see them!" Retsy exclaimed.

Enna looked distressed, and Silvy tried to console her. "I'm sure the horsies won't bother you while you sleep."

"No, no, you don't get it! Silly boy!" Enna said distastefully, as though there were nothing worse to be than a boy. "Blue is EBIL!"

"You're right!" Retsy realized. "We must stop them!"

"We must!" Enna agreed. "THERE THEY GO!" She pointed to a random corridor, and the girls took off at full speed, with Silvy following them. They ran clumsily until they reached the main gate, and stopped suddenly.

"How did they get through the door!" asked Enna in frustration. "It's locked!"

"I can unlock it, I'm a powerful sorceress!" Retsy exclaimed, and tried to magic the door open. "Why isn't this working?"

"You're not a powerful sorceress, Retsy," Enna said kindly, "let me try."

"You don't know me very well yet Enna," said Retsy. "Silvy, tell her I'm a powerful sorceress!"

"I really don't think you are," responded Silvy, as comfortingly as he could.

Retsy blinked back and forth between the two of them, thinking longingly of how simple her life would be if they were correct. Enna kept working on the lock, and the entire door suddenly turned into a moth and flew away.

"I've done it! I am really good at this!" Enna said happy.

And the three of them dashed out into the night after the imaginary blue horsies. They'd barely gone twenty feet when Retsy collapsed, and Enna followed suit. "You know what?" Retsy said sleepily, "let's just have a picnic instead."

And Silvy helped the sleepy, sugar-high girls make a picnic of leaves and dirt.

This post has been edited by BreadWorldMercy453: 24 May 2007 - 08:45 PM