Assassin on the Run

[Desperanza]

The trunk was etched, carved by the blade of a dagger either from bone or from titanium. The rigid marks told of the story of two lovers, the lovers whom had traveled both from Murate, and from Ellsinora to be together. A forbidden love. The gentle soul of a men, out amongst the forest as he hunted for his nights meal and happened to stumble a little too far, closer to Murate. However, the woman whom had found him, had shown mercy. She had sat with him in the forest, wounded and aching from the death of her brother and as they wound stories into the night sky, they grew closer. Soon, it had escalated into secret meetings, outings that carried them half way from each side to be together within the forest for no doubt if the Queen of Ellsinora, or the King of Murate were to find out, they would each be killed. As their love blossomed, the secrets grew more intricate until finally, they had been spotted by a curious town traveler of Ellsinora and a sneaky thief, eager for trouble from Murate. A pair of guards followed the man from Ellsinora, an assassin on the tail of the woman from Murate and in the night as they came together, they were caught. Held with their wrists to their back, heads pulled back, they could hardly see each other. With blades at their throats, they murmured sweet nothings to each other, words of encouragement for when they reached heaven, they would once again be together. As each was murdered, sent to the heavens, there was no sound but that of the flutter of the birds that raced from the trees, chattering noisily as they fluttered away, leaving nothing but the bodies who were wrapped and carried to their appropriate towns to be disposed of, and yet somehow had found out to finish the story. The story of a pair of daring and devoted lovers whom all the way until death had been together without fear, with undying love even after their bodies no longer supported them.

Her laughter etched the air, crystalline and amused as she righted herself, the leather against her thighs shifting to allow herself to move easier as she righted herself, taking a breath as she lifted her head once more, sending a glance around herself for a brief moment but for now, all remained silent. Her right hand lowered, sliding the dagger from the sheath at her right hip before she lifted it to slash at the bark, erasing the marks of the story that had once been there. She rolled her eyes, royal purple flecked with emerald currently, and straightened. She tucked her dagger back into place and sighed softly as she turned to gaze around herself, hearing the slight crack of a twig about ten feet away and as her head turned, her auburn tresses dancing around her shoulders, flowing and free, she caught the sight of the chestnut coat of her mare, Nesfira. The mare was grazing amidst the tack that adorned her body and as Aurora strode forward, her hips swinging enticingly with each step that she took, making her way forward as the mare lifted her head with a brief snort, coming to gaze upon the site of the assassin with dark eyes. Without a moment’s pause, she gathered the reins, a small tuft of mane, and slid her foot into the stirrup before pulling herself lithely into the saddle, settling into the familiar seat of the saddle that she had taken from her house, her father’s saddle. She never stored it in the same place. Nor did she ever store anything else in the same place, or any place to be found, either. Simply another survival tactic.

As she guided the mare forward at a swift lope, she guided the chestnut between the trees, drifting closer to the Oreste Mountains but as she drifted closer she rounded about to the right and began to move closer to Murate once again. It was about half an hour’s ride before she began to filter the wicked stench of the Pungoi Swamp once again and by now, she was used to the scent. One of her last assassination kills had been on the edge of the swamp, a strange and country ridden character who somehow seemed as if his mind had been poisoned by the fumes of the swamp itself. She breathed deeply, the stench filtering through her mind and yet it did not bother her much, not to say that she appreciated it any either however but Nesfira on the other hand rather seemed to have a problem. Her nostrils flared and her neck broke out with a sheen of sweat, her tail flicking sharply and he stride becoming choppy. Aurora’s fingers brushed the mare’s shoulder in a calming gesture before curling around the leather reins once more, her gaze traveling towards Ohanzee, her next destination. As the mare threw her heels in protest, the woman’s fingers tightened slightly against the reins, willing the mare to push past the swamp without throwing a fit and while she trusted the mare, she also did not trust her fully as she had yet to trust anyone fully. She cared for the mare, but the horse was still young at only five years old. She seemed to be able to sense the tension that flooded the creature’s veins and she rocked back against the edge of the saddle, her breath holding for a brief moment as she just as quickly rocked forward towards Nesfira’s withers as her fore carriers left the ground, rearing herself into the air with a shrill cry.

Rolling her eyes, the assassin gave her a sharp nudge with the heel of her boots, urging her back to the ground as her hands moved a few inches upwards along her neck, encouraging her head back down as she leaned towards her neck and kept her seat as if she was born in a saddle and within moments, the chestnut was grounded once again and Aurora had her moving forward at a steady pace once again, now coming to leave the swamp behind as the sight of the disheveled village of Ohanzee rolled into view. Her eyes grew darker, into a steel grey as she watched the sight of the village draw closer, sighing stiffly as she remained silent and slowed the mare to a walk, her gaze searching every inch of the town as she rode forward, not particularly searching for anything and not far into the distance ahead of her, rose the dark stoned castle of Murate. It was a place that she could go, as one of the King’s trusted assassin’s and no doubt he would wonder where the woman had gone as the assassin had not shown within the court in a while. She had gotten word that he had yet another trusted assassin so she worried little, if she had ever worried at all. Her exquisitely beautiful facial features were taught and daring, her steel eyes sharp and piercing as she dared anyone to lay a finger on either herself, or her horse. A toe out of line and there would be a body on the ground if not more. With her chin lifted with a sharp jut, she gazed around herself once more, the mare panting lightly between her calves as she cooled her down, the clop of the mare’s hooves echoing from the stone below.

[/b]

[AmberEyedWolf]

{Kazimir}
Hell's gates have opened, the demons released

High above the city of Ohanzee, a dark figure waited. Crouched upon the roof of the second-tallest building (the tallest being the castle), the assassin had a perfect view of the entire city. Every little thing that happened below was visible to the man who sat invisible above. He was not interested in what was going on below, however. He was only interested in the job at hand. He had been sent by the king to take care of some buusiness. A butcher in the city had not been paying his taxes, and it was found that he was also part of an Anti-Magrej organization here in Ohanzee.

Kazimir, one of Magrej's top assassins, was dispatched to solve the problem. The plan was to meet the butcher upon the rooftop to discuss business. Kazimir was posing as an oppenent of Magrej, thinking about joining the butcher's group. Kazimir would meet the butcher, and take him out. The only problem was that the butcher was late. Kazimir sighed. He hated when people kept him waiting.

A door on the other end of the roof opened, and a short, round man in his thirties stepped out into the open air. Kazimir rose to meet him, his black coat swirling slightly around his legs.

"You're late." The assassin glared at the butcher, his deep red eyes burning. "Why are you late? We agreed upon the time to meet, and now you show up late. I do not like to be kept waiting." As he spoke, he walked closer to the man, his anger growing with every step. The butcher backed away, fear in his eyes. "Having me within your ranks would have helped you greatly. But now, you've kept me waiting, and that angers me. I shall not join your group of Anti-Magrej traitors!" Kazimir nearly growled his words.

Trapping the man at a corner to the tall building, he toyed with him. "Do you know who I am? I am Kazimir, one of Magrej's greatest assassins." A dark smile graced his feminine face. "And you're next on my list of victims." Swiftly, Kazimir slipped a dagger from the right sleeve of his coat. Pointing it at the man, he barked orders.

"Turn around. Now, listen closely. You will do whatever I tell you to do. If you do not, your death will be slow and excruciatingly painful. Understand?" The butcher nodded fearfully, his feet right at the edge of the tall building. "Take all of the money from your pockets, and place it here." He held out a small leather pouch. The butcher emptied his pockets, and Kazimir drew the now-heavy pouch away, closed it, and tucked it into his pocket. "Payment for all the taxes you skipped out on."

The point of his dagger pressed into the poor butcher's back. "Repeat what I say. 'Citizens of Ohanzee! I, Harley, your butcher, am proclaiming my love for Magrej and everything he does! I know there are some among you who believed I thought otherwise, but I have seen the error of my ways! I am blessed to say this, and I know some may not agree. Long live the King!' " Kazimir smiled as the butcher repeated his words.

"Now, jump!" As he gave the order, he pressed his dagger hard into the butcher's back, forcing him to jump off the edge of the building. When the butcher landed on the ground with a sickening thud, Kazimir was gone, slipping out of the building and into a dark alleyway, headed back to the castle. With a grim smile, he murmured to himself, "Mission complete," before disappearing into the shadows.

{Kazimir}
Hell's gates have opened, the demons released

[Desperanza]

The day was overcast, as it always seemed to be around here. The clouds were rolling in and the grey of the sky above was daunting, and usual. It would not rain, but it remained cloudy. The thought of the weather, however, did not matter. Now, as she made her way forward, she reined Nesfira to a stop and slid from her back with a soft click from the heel of her boots as her feet hit the floor and she straightened once more, her auburn hair flashing back along her back once more, thoughtful. She was pondering whether to return to the castle at the moment, or to steal a meal and wander the streets for a while longer. The thoughts were short lived as she made her decision. She lowered the reins over Nesfira’s neck and stepped forward once more, making her way forward as she drifted along the edge of the street. Her hips swung gently from side to side, a tantalizing and feminine movement as she traveled forward, her right hand fingering the studded handle of her dagger at her hip, the blades at her back light and yet deadly but she left them for now as she gazed down the row of stalls with the clop of her mare’s hooves behind herself as the chestnut followed with a snort. She paused for a moment, the trickling row of buildings stretched to either side of herself, most run down and useless but the shops that thrived had dingy signs in their doors to tell that they were open for business. She approached a stable yard, a shop poised out in front of the stable that stretched out behind, horses lining the stalls here and there.

As she approached the counter she eyed the beady man behind the counter. He was tall, lanky, black eyes that were dark like beads and lengthy, skeletal limbs. He looked strange, and when he smiled, his teeth were stained and uneven. She rolled her eyes as he appraised her form with a rather greedy look and she waved a hand through the air and snapped her fingers sharply, her royal purple eyes flaring with a hint of crimson for a moment as her temper flared slightly at the gutsy man, ”That is not the sort of business I’m here for. If that’s the only business you are looking for, then I think I’ll in turn be charging you.” she stated with an arched eyebrow, offering a tiny hair of bait and yet the man while he considered ‘getting lucky’ didn’t realize that she did not mean to offer him her body, but instead her blades. For his body on the floor would be a sight to see. She grinned at the thought, knowing full and well what he was thinking but he seemed to come to his senses at the look in her eyes and sighed, folding his hands against the counter as he nodded curtly, ”State your business then, wench.” he stated simply to her this time. She let the comment roll down her back and yet not to escape completely but despite that fact, she spoke again, motioning to her mare that now stood outside of the shop peering around herself, “As you can see, I have a mare in need of feeding. What’s the price?” she inquired as she glanced back to the man once more and he arched an eyebrow, a grin once again touching his features, slime seeming to ooze from every poor as he mopped his brow and huffed, “The price is eighty gold-for men.” he returned with a curt nod. Offering an impatient stare, Aurora sighed, ”I am no man, idiot. Get me the feed.” she stated simply as she motioned to the back. The man nodded curtly, still holding a rotten smile as he turned and disappeared into the back and as soon as he did, her palms pressed to the wooden counter and she leaped the few feet across to the other side with a lithe leap, landing silently before her right hand lifted, sliding a small pin free from her hair to slide the tip into the register and pop the key hole, the black drawer hopping open before she reached in and scooped all of the money he had stashed there into a pouch of which she then promptly tucked down into her shirt and edged close to her hip before she slid the drawer closed and tucked the pin between her fingers as she made a swift leap back across the counter and straightened, more or less sliding her shirt down off of her shoulders and exposing further more enticing skin just a bit.

Within a few minutes, the man returned and by this time, her eyes were a steely silver grey, her lips formed into a soft pout and her hands folded before herself innocently as she motioned to the door, ”Can you load it for me, please?” she inquired. She rather was a con artist if ever you saw one, amongst her other skills. It certainly helped to be a female with the means of enticing the hearts of just about any man she crossed. She wiggled her shoulders slightly, taunting the man a bit, ”I’m sure I can pay whatever price it is for the extra service.” she implied softly to him, her tone silken smooth and sweet as she purred to him and she could see the evidence of her work plain as day through his shabby clothes and the knot in his throat as it twitched when he swallowed hard and she rather held back from laughing, swallowing as she turned and stepped from the shop after him as he loaded the feed in the sack just behind her saddle before turning to face her once again, stepping forward towards her once again as she drifted the edge of the front of the shop before leaning against the wall as he stepped into the shop, his beady eyes scanning towards her from the corner of his eye as he stepped around towards the register and aimed for the key, ”Now then, about the payment.” he muttered gruffly, his tone husky, ”You realize, that the price is higher for women.” he muttered with a curt nod, and she practically rolled her eyes as she sauntered forward, drifting closer to the counter with a cat like grin this time, her fingers lifting to trace the edge of her cotton blouse, circling the front of the shop before she drifted towards the door and paused, glancing back at him, ”Oh yes, I rather have something in mind.” she replied with a slight grin as he gave her a rather expectant look, her fingers reaching forward to lock the front door and drop the black curtains before the windows before she turned towards the man once again, purposefully swinging her hips ever more as she drifted closer to the counter and the man practically trembled with anticipation and finally, she began to chuckle, her laughter dark and sweet as she looked up at him, her hands lifting as he gave her an expectant look, ”I think you’re life will do just fine.” she stated with a grin as she lifted her hands to her mouth, the razor sharp pin sliding between her teeth, backed by the tip of her tongue as she inhaled as if to blow him a kiss and when she exhaled, her fingers whisked the base of the pin and it whizzed past her lips, lodging within the throat of the man who’s eyes were wide with surprise, a tiny trickle of blood oozing past the pin that now stuck out from his neck, his hands lifting blindly for a moment to claw for the pin before he slipped to the floor, gurgling briefly before only silence came from him. She sighed, grinning, her veins flooded with wicked adrenaline and satisfaction as she stepped forward and leaped up onto the counter, one hand poised against the wood as she crouched smoothly and looked down at the body, ”Sleep tight, darling.” she muttered sweetly and this time, blew him a kiss before she leaped from the counter and over his body to stride from the back of the shop and out into the stable yard, her right hand closing to her dagger as it slid from it’s sheath, the metal glimmering with the light as she sliced open the bags of feed, grain spilling to the ground and creating large piles of feed upon the ground, bales of hay falling to pieces as she cut the twine and delivered her dagger back at her hip once more, sliding the stall doors open as she shooed the horses from the stalls before darting out along the edge of the shop alley, whistling softly for her mare who rather suddenly jogged around the edge of the building and she swung into the saddle lithely with a satisfied smile, equines scattering out into the streets behind herself as she moved Nesfira forward at a brisk jog into the street before she guided her forward into a canter along the center of the street, a few people pausing to gape at the horses that ran loose around herself now as she left the mess behind and once again drifted along the edge of town, slowing as she pulled into the ever seedier side of town and paused, glancing around herself, her eyes settled at a dark shade of emerald, glittering vaguely with twisted and elated emotions at the moment.

[/b]

[AmberEyedWolf]

{Kazimir}
Hell's gates have opened, the demons released

The screams of terrified villagers echoed through the city in the wake of the butcher's "suicide." Kazimir slipped through the dark back alleys, most of which had never seen the light of day. Stalking through the permanent shadows, the dark assassin allowed a smile to grace his feminine face. No one would ever suspect foul play in the death of the butcher. It was a clean kill, when viewed from the execution of it. When viewed from the broken, bloodied body lying in the middle of the street, well, that was a different story.

Becoming one with the shadows of the cloudy day, Kazimir moved into the darker, shadier side of the city. The pouch full of gold coins weighed heavily in his pocket. It was more than enough to pay off the dead man's debt, and Kazimir was not going to throw away a chance at free money. As he walked deeper into the run-down portion of the city, he drew his cloak tighter around himself. Absentmindedly, he twisted the silver ring upon the longest finger of his right hand three times to the left.

"Ter ad sinistram, protectionem a furto." A quiet whisper escaped his lips, the incantation to fully activate the power of the ring. It was an ancient treasure, passed down to him by a stranger who took he and his sister in when they ran away from home. The old woman had no children or grandchildren to pass the relic on to, and she gave it to him to keep the ring's power strong. She had taught him what the inscription meant and instructed him on how to use it properly. A few days after the ring was passed down to him, the elderly woman passed away. Kazimir had felt nothing but a dull ache; the woman had cared for them, almost loved the like her own. It was the closest he had come to feeling a mother's love.

The ring would protect against theft in this shady side of town; if he had turned it to the right, the ring would protect him in a fight. He moved through the streets in silence, heading toward a small, run-down building that, at one point, used to be a popular pub. Now, it was merely a place for trade on the black market. He walked into the dark building and whistled softly three times. A dirty man dressed in rags came from a back room and placed a small box on the counter. In silence, Kazimir opened the box, peering inside. Reaching a slim hand inside, he drew out a small vial. Inside, a bright green liquid nearly glowed.

"How well does it work?" He looked at the scrawny man. "It works, sir, it works!" The man seemed eager to sell the vial, and inside the box, there were more bottles of the green liquid. "I need proof of its power before I consider purchasing it." Brisquely, he turned on his heel and walked out into the street, the vial clasped tightly in his hand. Seeing a middle-aged man struggling to stand upright, he walked over to him. Holding out the vial, he instructed, "Drink this. It'll help." With interest, the assassin watched as the man drank the contents of the small vial. Within moments, he was writhing on the ground, twitching and groaning in agony. It didn't take long for the poison to finish it's job and the man to lay still.

Kazimir walked back into the building, placed the vial back into the box, and closed the lid. Taking out the leather pouch, he placed a handful of gold coins on the counter. There was still enough in the back to pay off the butcher's debt and have some left over. He picked up the box and walked out without another glance at the seller. He placed the box into a deep pocket and set off toward the castle. On the way back, a mini-herd of horses came charging down the street. Scanning the front of the herd, he saw a horse he particularly liked. A jet black stallion led the charge. Lithe and agile, Kazimir positioned himself before the stampede and waited. When the stallion drew close enough, the assassin leapt at him, climbing onto the horse's back.

Tangling his fingers into the horse's mane, he pulled, causing the stallion to rear up. Kazimir leaned forward, keeping his seat as the horse showed his frustration. When the horse's hooves landed on the ground again, he placed a hand on the side of the stallion's neck and leaned forward to whisper soothingly in the horse's ear. Eventually the horse settled down, and Kazimir directed the horse through the streets. He slipped the box from his pocket and opened it, making sure the vials weren't broken. With a relieved sigh, he returned the box to his pocket.

Kazimir pushed the horse into a trot and calmly looked around as they traveled. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. "You're going to need a name, friend." As he thought about a good name for his new companion, he thought about how his youngest sister, Serafae, named every creature that came across her path. He considered the horse's appearance, personality, and gender: jet black with blazing reddish-brown eyes, a fiery young stallion. The horse reared suddenly, and Kazimir barely had time to change his position to avoid being thrown. "Demon Inferni! You are truly a hell demon, aren't you, Young One? Ah, and thus shall you be called, Demon Inferni." A smile pulled at the assassin's mouth as the horse settled down once more. He looked up, his deep red eyes spotting a mounted figure moving toward him.

As the two riders drew closer to one another, Kazimir inspected the woman. She was very beautiful, with deep red hair and dark green eyes. She had a mischevious look about her, and Kazimir couldn't help but wonder.

"Was it you who caused that stampede?"

{Kazimir}
Hell's gates have opened, the demons released

((OOC :: "Ter ad sinistram, protectionem a furto." translates to "Thrice to the left, protection from theft." and "Demon Inferni" translates to "Hell Demon" in Latin.))

[Desperanza]

The sun was beginning to gleam, strange for the town of Ohanzee but the light was pale and a sickening shade of seeming cream. The shreds of light washed through the tattered wreck of the village and she rolled her eyes, lowering her right hand to rest against her thigh, her fingers tapping lightly against the muscled flesh now dressed in black leather that clung to her feminine hide. Her eyes currently settled in a serene emerald flecked with royal purple, the mischievous glint held within her eyes as she gazed around herself. The chestnut mare beneath her danced in excitement as the horses scattered out at their backs and her hand lifted to come to stroke the mare’s neck with a slight smile, her eyes drifting along the gleaming copper coat, the slight tangles of red mane and she smiled.

Settling back to relax within the saddle, she inclined her head, her chin lifting back slightly as she gazed towards the spires of Murate Castle, her eyes catching the shadowed windows and the slight shadows of a servant every now and again. The village was bathed in solemn expressions. Typical. She rolled her shoulders and sighed, closing her eyes as the wind crept through the stony road of the village, carrying tattered skirts from a few women and a hat from a man down the road along with it and she wrinkled her nose at the scents that lifted into the air as she reined Nesfira along the edge for a brief moment, the ears of the mare twitching as she became tuned towards the presence of the black stallion in the area and as Aurora reined the mare to a stop, her hips shifted slightly as she turned to gaze around herself thoughtfully for a moment, her eyes taking on a slight glint as she glanced among the scene for a moment. Coughing. Her chin turned slightly as she caught sight of a woman bent forward as she hacked into her curled fingers and Aurora’s heels shifted within the stirrups, guiding the mare in a circle as she gathered the sight of the darkly dressed figure, a man astride the black stag.

She took a closer inspection of the figure. His eyes were a sharp red, his hair black as the ebony tresses framed a feminine and currently placid face. The slight flicker of red within his gaze as he spoke to the stallion and Aurora’s shoulders shifted, rolling back and seeming to cradle her assassin’s blades with her own shoulder blades as the emerald studded titanium blades hugged her back serenely and she felt the pulse of adrenaline through her veins once more. The slight jolt of recognition passed through her system, she vaguely recalled who he was and yet, she did not know. She had been the first assassin entrusted by the King, as a child when her skills had become known but after she had begun to drift, to gain a mind of her own, she had not bothered to keep track. No doubt the king had hired others after herself but she would not be pausing to check, to clarify. For after all, what said that this man too was an assassin? Surely, even if he was, he would know nothing of her for she had not shown in the castle in some time. She took her jobs without passing by the stony walls of the castle. She did not come when she was called but instead the King was graced with her skilled fingers if she allowed him to and typically, the winds called in her favor, not his.

With her chin lifted defiantly, she gave a slight smile at the edges of her mouth, her eyes scanning the frame of the man for a moment and then, to his steed before lifting once more without answering immediately before finally, she replied with a curt nod, ”Perhaps I know a thing or two about the stampede, yes.” she offered. Her tone was smooth, yet commanding. She had undying confidence and why not? She had wicked skill. A sorceress without magic. Her shirt laid just off of her shoulders still, the cotton died ebony clinging to her feminine frame as she sat straight once more, her position shifting always to offer her the advantage should she need to strike action in her own defense.

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[Desperanza]

TEMPORARY ARCHIVE