Kindred Blades

[Lightfoot]

((Closed. This takes place after all the threads Jasker is in, and the thread that I'll need to be doing for VA to become a guard. Any and all bunny is approved since...well, it's the same person.))

The half-elf guard patrolled Scara Brae's streets with diligence and vigor. He wouldn't let the night scare him away from his duties, watching for hidden knives in the dark. It seemed though, that he wasn't watching hard enough. His footsteps echoed down the lonely street. The sound reverberated off the walls and cobblestones, masking the smaller presence that clung closely to the guard's shadow. It moved as if it were a shadow as well, soft and silent.

The half-elf yawned and stretched. He heard a sharp clutter in a dark alley nearby, the sound of metal scraping on stone. He forced the weariness from his eyes and limbs and made for the alley. The guard unsheathed his longsword, glistening in the moonlight. He took great pride in his blade. Cautiously, he entered the darkness, trusting in his elven eyes to see him through.

Suddenly, a large weight dropped down onto his back and a sharp pain soon followed. He had been stabbed. He lost all feeling in his sword hand, but couldn't feel the blade fall from his hand, only hear it clang against the stone. The half-elf reached up to his attacker with his good hand and grabbed hold. With a great grunt he threw the weight from him, and -- to the guard's surprise -- with relative ease.

The small attacker landed deftly nearby and stalked closer. The half-elf turned and made for the street, but quickly found himself face-down on the cobblestones. He'd lost too much blood, and was losing control of his body. He looked to the starry sky, and died.

[Vampiric Angel]

"How long?" Anenfel asked the examiner.

"Four hours, maybe five." Anenfel nodded and looked the body over. It once belonged to his friend, Lariden. They had just spent the last day filing reports regarding their patrols joking and laughing. It was strange to look at him now, cold and bloodied. Lariden's lifeless eyes were projected upward towards the sky. The half-elf had always loved the night sky. It was reassuring to Anenfel that he at least was able to see it, one last time.

Anenfel's eyes were drawn to the wound on his back. He inspected it closely. Both the angle and size seemed to suggest that the attacker had been above the victim. Either Lariden had been on his knees or... Anenfel looked up to the adjacent buildings, trying to find some clue. About halfway down the half-elf could see stones and mortar that had been loosened. For a foothold, maybe? He looked back to Lariden, searched his forearms. No signs of struggle. Whoever did this took him by surprise. He kept searching around the forearms until he came to the hands.

The half-elf's eyes widened. His Guard Ring is gone. A Guard Ring was a ring given to guardsmen to signify their membership in the Guard. Each ring had the guard's name engraved on the inside. This wasn't just murder, this was an assassination! Anenfel couldn't think of anyone that would want Lariden dead, he had just joined a month ago.

He walked the crime scene, searching the alley for any clue. He moved aside a trash holder and found waht he was looking for. What's this? A wooden wolf. Maybe Lariden wasn't caught completely by surprise, after all. The carving was only half-finished, but the craftsmanship was remarkable. There was only one person in Scara Brae that Anenfel knew to be this skilled with carpentry: Bayren Lightfoot.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Anenfel took in the smells of Scara Brae with a smile while he walked. The air was thick with the aroma of roast and bread, reminding him of his love for the city. It had been a year since the Spider God's attack. He still remembered the goblins and their spider mounts, and the large amount of effort it took to bring the spider god down. The raid had left much of the city damaged, but now, a year later, it was as good as new. He still visited the Sea's Salt and its patrons, and even enjoyed a pint or two when the time allowed.

He still thought about Izvilvin and that pale teenage girl. Both had major parts in the battle. But they had left, seeking whatever it was there heart desired them to. Even Hadley had left, another acquaintance from the battle. He received word from his family in Salvar that the civil war was starting to intensify, so he left to look after them. Somehow, his mind came to Larissa. He still wasn't sure if his fairy companion had been killed in the battle or if she had managed to escape and left Scara Brae due to Anenfel's mindless drunken berating. He sighed deeply and found himself at his designation.

The half-elf entered the shop and was greeted with a warm smile.

"Afternoon, guardsmen," said the stout halfling from behind the counter. "What can I do ya for?" Anenfel looked Bayren in the face and decided to be candid.

"I'm here investigating a murder." The old halfling looked a question at the half-elf, as if to say, "And what's that got to do with me?" The guard cleared his throat and continued, "A guard was slain last night. There was very little physical evidence, this was among that evidence." Anenfel placed the wooden wolf on the counter. Bayren's reaction was minimal, but it was there.

"Aye, that's my style, but that wasn't done by my hand." Anenfel nodded. He believed the halfling. Bayren was a noble and just person.

"Is it possible that this was done by someone under your tutelage?" Bayren shook his head.

"I keep my skills with me and mine, I haven't trained anyone in over thirty years."

"I see." Anenfel gave a quick moment's thought that Bayren might be lying, he just didn't know about what. "Well, I'll keep in touch." The half-elf walked out of the shop with more questions than he had answers.

[Lightfoot]

Damn... Jasker watched with a grimace as the guard left his father's shop. I had the wrong half-elf! He pulled out his palewood pipe, tamped and lit. Now I have to kill another. He pulled out the ring he had lifted from his victim for identification.

Lariden Dariloth... Sorry.

He shook his head thinking about the sitaution. The thief never liked killing, aside from self-defense, which was why he never took on jobs like this. If he hadn't lost his coin in that damned flood in Radasanth, this never would've happened.

"Leave the killing to the killer and the thievery to the thief!"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. I can't believe my wolf carving fell out during that whole mess... That's too sloppy of me. Now I'll have to start another one. He chuckled to himself. It was some of my best work, too. The halfling made his way back towards the inn he was staying in, smoking his pipe, humming a tune, and trying not to think of what he'd have to do later that night.

[Vampiric Angel]

Anenfel understood why Lariden enjoyed night patrols. Peaceful, quiet, and it gives you plenty of time to think. He was trying to work out the case in his head. What was Bayren hiding? He couldn't think of a single thing to do, other than personally search each and every person's pockets for Lariden's ring. Which was ridiculous.

I'll figure this out, Lariden. You have my word. He rested his left hand on Dawntracker, the action somehow soothing his spirit. The bow on his back felt alien to him. Ever since he joined the guard he had been trying to learn how to shoot. He was still an awful shot, but he was at least making improvments. He smirked at that.

SMASH! The sound of breaking glass came from nearby. Anenfel ran in the direction and before long, could see the culprit fiddling with the lock on the door through the broken window. The half-elf pulled his bow from his back. I may be an awful shot, but the show of force might be all that I need.

"Halt!" He yelled. He had drawn an arrow and knocked it. The small thief, who was extremely well covered, began to run away. Anenfel aimed for the legs and let loose. A miss. The half-elf knocked another arrow and let fly. Another miss.

Gods damn it! The thief was runnning all over the place. Hold still! He let another arrow fly. It scraped the thief's arm just barely. Still counts! The thief ran out of site and Anenfel rushed in pursuit. While he ran he put his bow in place on his back. He came upon a darkened backstreet that seemed to be having maintenance work done. He took a deep breath and drew his blade, Dawntracker.

Steady. This might be Lariden's attacker. It seemed to be the same design. Lead the target into a darkened area, then spring the trap. Anenfel resolved not to be caught. He walked towards the entrance of the street and noticed that he'd have to go through a masonry stand in order to pursue. Keep your eyes open, Anenfel. He looked up and around. Nothing. He took his first steps into the stand.

Everything seemed alright. He took another step and-- CHUCNK!! The half-elf looked to his feet. Tripwire?! Before he could react the boards of the masonry stand caved in on him. He tried to move but he was stuck, and he had taken a pretty hard blow to the head. His vision began to blur, and the last thing he saw was a dark figure looming over him. Then everything went black.