Legend of the Dark Hero-2.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

(Solo Quest)
(I am using my level 8 profile here)

--I--The uncertain tomorrow...

A series of candles provided the only natural light in the room. Tiles were etched in simple finishes on the floor and walls. There were a few tapestries that were hanging upon either wall, and a simple glowing orb hanging on a chain. It was attached to the ceiling. A bed was in the room. It had an intricate canopy that was currently closed to hide the secrets therein. Also visible was a fancy couch with thick pillows, a small coffee table before the couch, and a fireplace. Perhaps that was the most intricate feature of the room. It was currently lit to provide the room with a much-needed warmth.

Lurking beneath the coffee table was a single intricately decorated rug. There was a mandala pattern upon the object with many colors and intricacies. Upon the couch sat a skyclad warrior. He stood at five feet in height, awfully short for one in his line of work. However, his musculature and physique told another story. He was well built, pectoral muscles rising up and down with every breath. Currently, the muscles of his chest were crunched together and that created tension lines, as he studied the books on the tables. He carefully turned the pages of one of the volumes there.

These days, the fellow spent a lot of time reading the works of N'Jal. N'Jal was a member of the Thaynehood of the ancient codex. Officially recognized as the dark lady, N'Jal recently crash-landed into Althanas when one of Xem'Zund's Death Lords conjured a meteor that destroyed former Valinatal.

N'Jal was the deity that the strange fellow reading the works followed. Now the books on the table were rumored to be made in human flesh and etched in human blood, but when one took a close glance at the pages of the book, one were to find nothing on those pages. The secrets of the Necronomicon were meant only for the Spider-Magi. N'Jal's most elite of servants. And the strange fellow was of their ranks.

With glowing purple orbs of energy set deeply into his eye sockets, the strange fellow was a mysterious apparition indeed. He had dreadlocks that crowned his head, no ears, no tongue, and no nose. Also a noticeable feature of the fellow was that his skin tone was as dark as a Drow from Alerar. Many scars were visible upon the man's upper body. Scars obtained from the toils of tactical warfare. Though the fellow was known for his regenerative capacity, some wounds were too great and healed incorrectly.

Reading his works, the fellow studied while the hours rolled by. For the time being, he was happy just studying the scriptures of N'Jal in his apartment. He could stay within the confines of the Cathedral as long as he needed to stay, or at least, until the next mission fell on his lap. Lorenor decided it was time to stand up and caught himself a nice stretch. He had a hot herbal tea on the table, and took a deep pull of it when there was a knock on the double doors in front of the apartment.

"Come in." Lorenor called out.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

A familiar scent touched the mutant's sensory sphere as he waited for the guest to enter his personal chambers. Lorenor felt the power burning within a very particular individual, Ivan Wolf, member of the clergy of the Church of Ethereal Sway. With the recent assassination of the Justice, Lev Testhan, The Cathedral had gone into a temporary state of disarray. It had sought its loyal followers, assassins, and members of the general organization as it restructured itself. The Clergy took over duties of the Church affairs, keeping the organization alive during its darkest hour. With rumors that St. Denebriel herself was seen during many of the covert activities of the Civil War, the Church's state was a particularly sorry one. Attempting to rally its more powerful Assassins, the church was reorganizing itself to face a brand new hour of history. Amongst the church Assassins was Lorenor who had quickly become one of its most elite members. As Lorenor looked over the documents of his latest dossier, the mutant stood up and greeted Ivan Wolf with a warm embrace.

"Lorenor. So good to see you are still with us. We are well aware of your recent travels around Althanas." Ivan began. He was a tall Salvarn with long black hair. His hair had a few gray streaks in it from recent aging, and a few braids as well. He had a thick beard with several locks tied into one long goatee. He wore the attire of an elegant clergyman. It was a purple robe made out of silk and vlince. He also wore a hat with many Cathedral markings upon it, embroidered in gold. The Cathedral was an organization of excess. The mutant found himself fitting right into its halls. Ivan had dark brown eyes. His face was heavily scarred from various battles.

"I'm eager to get back into action. I have put my training on hold to pursue more personal matters. But they have been taken care of."

"We could use a skilled Assassin like you right now. Many of our members have vanished into the great winds." Ivan rubbed his long goatee thoughtfully as he looked at Lorenor's dossier. "You are aware of your current mission?"

"I am. I am curious though, why send me to go after such a high-value mark?" Lorenor asked. "There are better Assassins in the ranks than me."

"It is quite simple Lorenor mi'boy." Ivan looked off into the distance for a moment. He sat down on the couch next to Lorenor. "We are interested in what you carry within." Ivan tapped Lorenor's chest. "The existence of the Thayne is a crucial piece of lore to our studies. We must know the truth of the universe." Ivan said. "As students of Denebriel we must always seek wisdom from all places."

"N'Jal." Lorenor started. "But the Justice declared my belief in N'Jal a heresy an attempted to get rid of me."

"The Justice is no more Lorenor. Now there is only the Clergy, and a new dawn of Denebriel's Cathedral." Ivan paused. "We must cultivate those who are loyal to us regardless of their personal preferences." Ivan turned to look at Lorenor. "You my friend, represent the future of the Cathedral. With the intricate knowledge of the Thayne that you do possess you can help guide us to a new era. We accept you as a valuable asset to the Cathedral." Ivan continued. "No longer can we deny growth to members simply because of matters of faith. We now believe that our loyal subjects should be rewarded and compensated for the trouble that we put them through." Ivan looked at a picture of the chosen mark with a look that was akin to sadness. He picked up the picture and looked at Lorenor calmly. "Our Salvar is in a dreadful state right now. We must correct the wrongs of that bastard Iorlan and his ilk." Ivan looked at Lorenor for a long moment without saying anything else. He simply looked at the mutant. He continued to hold the picture in his hand.

Lorenor spoke to break the silence.

"I can honestly say I am frightened. I have taken down high-level marks before but this is something totally different. How can I defeat such an opponent on my own?" Lorenor asked. "I am not saying that I cannot do this task, N'Jal will help me find a way. However, I am saying that it will be very difficult. There is a chance I might face the Great Beyond during this trial."

"That is a risk that all of our Assassins face Lorenor. You will not be alone, you will have all the assistance that the Cathedral can provide. You must focus all of your power on this task Lorenor. I believe you can find a way to make it happen. With the mark destroyed, our enemies will fall into a state of utter chaos. We will continue our offensive against them and repay them the favor for taking down the Justice."

"Eye for an eye then?" Lorenor asked. "Am I free to use any methods necessary?"

"Just take him down. I just want his head when all is said and done."

Lorenor bowed towards Ivan Wolf. "As you wish my lord."

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Lorenor noticed that Ivan Wolf had something else on his mind. The mutant wanted to ask him if there was something else, but alas, he was but a rank and file member of the Cathedral's vast organization. He didn't have any right to intrude upon the personal affairs of the clergy, just as they didn't have the right to intrude upon his personal affairs. The old Justice, Lev Testhan, often meddled upon the affairs of his professionals. This was frowned upon by the clergy. The new paradigm caused for many of the old rules to be altered, changed, or even thrown out all together. With the modernized Church ready for action, its enemies were already put on notice of the organization's ability to adapt. Despite the fact that Lev Testhan had fallen, the Clergy still functioned and operated. They were not cowards, they would take the fight to their enemies. Seeing an opportunity that was presented, Lorenor turned back towards the dossier on his latest mark. Most of the information was recent due to the spy intelligence that was working on location. Lorenor could not risk revealing the Cathedral's spies.

So that avenue was out of the question. Lorenor thought of other means of help he could pursue in the meantime. Lorenor's advanced sensory grid allowed him to peer into both the Firmanent and the Antifirmanent at will, he could use that great power to its fullest potential without holding back.

The couch felt very comfortable against his body. The pillow cases were made out of a refined form of thick Vlince cloth. It was quite comfortable in against his person, he was sinking into the couch almost. Lorenor smelled the incense in the air and liked it, his personal favorites were strawberry and vanilla scented incense. He often kept a stash of them in his small apartment. Studying the dossier a bit further, Lorenor memorized all the details whilst Ivan Wolf watched in silence. Lorenor had already memorized the image of his mark, every line, every curve. Burnt forever into his memory.

"Very well then. I shall leave you to your task." Ivan Wolf said and stood up, preparing to leave the apartment. "You shall have every resource necessary for the mission at hand."

Before Ivan Wolf left, the mutant looked at him for a moment and asked a very specific question.

"I will need assistance. His guards are many, I can probably dispatch them on my own, but I will need at least a small group with me whilst I hunt for the mark."

Ivan Wolf nodded in response.

"Very well. I shall allocate some other resources to this project. This job has the full approval of the clergy and you will not be alone in this."

"Thank you my lord." Lorenor said. "I have no other concerns."

"Then I shall leave you to your business. We require that set out immediately for the location the mark is currently rumored to be at. He has a house on Willheim Street." Ivan Wolf continued to habitually rub his goatee. "But it is not likely that he will be at the location...however should the need arise..."

"Understood. I will take hostages if necessary to lure the mark to that location. However, I will prefer to hunt the mark in his own domain. That is simply my preference."

"Dispatch him however you must." Then, Ivan Wolf left Lorenor's domain.

***

Sometime passed and the mutant was walking through the streets of Knife's Edge. Lorenor had never met the mark in his battles, but he had heard of him and how the mark operates. This was Lorenor's most dangerous mission to date and he had already accepted the fact that he might perish during the course of the ensuing events. Making history was never an easy matter though.

As he walked, snow drifted in a steady fall in many random angles. The breeze was flowing from the Southwest. Pulling his thick hide cloak tighter around his person, the mutant adjusted himself a little bit further. He wore a thick hide overcoat that was dyed black, and sturdy denim black pants. His boots were also made out of hide. As he walked, his boots left prints in the snow, that were quickly covered by the steady fall. As per his master's orders, the mutant wore a newly acquired porcelain mask before his face to hide the features of his face. The mask had no marks on it, it simply hid him completely from view. With his hood up, the Assassin was prepared to make his mark on history.

Operating under Salvar's banner had proven fruitful several times in the past. He had acquired the resources necessary to run his own fiefdom, and he had acquired a job with steady pay. The mutant's gloved hands were clenched tightly into fists. He walked with a purpose, his chin held up high as he was a proud member of the Assassin's Guild within the Church of Ethereal Sway.

Lorenor knew that he could handle the operation several different ways. He was now completely in charged of the mission. This made his confidence soar. Something made the mutant stop his inexorable walk towards history, a sound, a shift, a movement within the Antifirmanent. Pausing in the lonely street to acknowledge the movement, the mutant drew his single Prevalida Dagger. Seeing into the gray matter of the Antifirmanent now, the mutant sensed movement all about him. Something was definitely stirring within the Antifirmanent. Looking around his person now, the mutant felt several presences moving quickly about his person. Then, that's when the subtle laughter began to manifest. He heard many voices laughing at him, but it was probable that the voices belonged to one or two entities. Lorenor held his Dagger and prepared to draw his sword, when the movement around his body stopped. It was a sudden event, and the event made the mutant feel extremely uneasy. The laughter was still in the air, soon, Lorenor suddenly felt the attack. Knocked to the ground, the mutant was looking up at his assailants.

Several Wraiths had attacked and were now manifest within the Antifirmanent...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Hours earlier...

Dispatched from the main Cathedral's building, several Professionals made their way into the shadows of night. Each one of the Professionals were Master Assassins working for the Cathedral directly under the Clergy. There were a small group of five Professionals. They had all met in Lorenor's apartment and were prepared for the mission at hand. Lorenor was in the group of Assassins, obviously the shortest member of the group. His skill, however, was never questioned. Lorenor had proven himself a worthy Professional time and time again in the past. Respect was a serious matter for the Professionals of the Cathedral. Lorenor looked at the other Professionals as they stood in the alleyway for a long moment. A series of hand movements was exchanged between the members of the group. Seeing that the other Professionals were all considerably taller than he, the mutant grinned behind the mask. They all had names, they also all wore the attire that a Professional typically would wear. However, each outfit was customized to suit the varying needs of the Professional.

Y'var Flagune was the superior officer of the Professionals. Despite the fact that the mission was given to Lorenor's hands, the Church deemed it necessary to have a back-up plan in case Lorenor should fail. If Lorenor would fail, Y'Var Flagune would take full command of the task. The Professional stood at approximately seven feet and five inches. His weight seemed to be well over two hundred and fifty pounds, he was sturdy and built like a behemoth. The man was a native Salvarn, with orange-blond hair that was tied in many braids. His hood was up, and he, like the rest of the Professionals wore masks to hide their faces and identities. Only their attire and equipment set them apart.

When the hand signs were exchanged, Y'Var Flagune spoke.

"Lorenor. You are aware of the danger of this mission?"

"I am Herr Flagune." Lorenor responded. "It's the reason why so many of us were put on the job to begin with. I requested the help knowing full well the type of security that the mark will have." Lorenor looked up at his superior officer, feeling somewhat dwarfed by the man's sheer size.

"Good. You are wise to ask for help. We shall provide you support when the site is penetrated. For now the mission requires that we enter site and begin to engage the mark's security. We shall clear a path for you. I want you to concentrate on the mission."

"Have no fear. I shall destroy the mark, or meet my end." Lorenor said calmly, without hesitation. He turned from Y'Var Flagune and the others and began to walk towards his destination.

"Lorenor." His comrade said.

The mutant paused, but did not turn around.

"Yes Herr Flagune?" He asked.

"Do not hold back."

Nodding, the mutant did not respond to the comment. Instead, he waved towards his companions' general direction and moved off into the darkness of the alleyway. He could hear their hearts beating in their chest for a long moment until they vanished from his sensory sphere leaving a chill going up and down his spine. Lorenor walked forward thinking about the various logistics of the mission. As his most dangerous mission ever, the mutant knew he needed to be on his best game moving forward. They were to infiltrate a heavily guarded location and search for the mark...

***

Knife's Edge had become my home. Even in the deep cold of the endless winter, I had finally found a place to truly call home. I oft wondered if I would be eternally stuck in the bowels of Haidia with its ceaseless inferno as my only companion. No, that was not meant to be my destiny. Instead, I find myself working for this dread organization, The Church of Ethereal Sway. I find myself on my deadliest mission yet. And now, these Wraiths from the Antifirmanent attempt to slow me down. I raise my dagger against them, knowing that the ancient Prevalida ore would hold up against the thread. If need be, I could always pull out my enchanted sword...either one would do in this case.

I had fought the Wraiths before. They were dangerous opponents and often attacked in packs. That made them even more dangerous than fighting a single one alone. I often wondered if the Wraiths were real or it was my twisted imagination fucking with me. It was still sometimes difficult for me to tell reality from the fantasy. Then again, was it not all a fantasy anyway? These thoughts passed through the mutant's mind. He looked up as the first of the incoming Wraiths attacked. They were vicious creatures, long flowing robes made out of the Living Dark. Attracted to Lorenor's powerful aura, the creatures made their presences known before the mutant. Lorenor drew his dagger up to intercept an incoming attack, they often attacked with their sharp claws. Lorenor saw that there was a ripple of energy as the first of the Wraiths struck against his blade. Fighting against the ground was a difficult task even for a seasoned veteran like himself. He would have to periodically adjust his body weight to move until he could stand.

When the weight of the Wraith struck against the mutant's dagger, Lorenor felt even his own strength fading rapidly against the Wraith's touch. It seemed that even the touch of these creatures was a frightful experience that the mutant did not want to go through at all. He looked up into the eyes of the creature even as they laughed. Another wraith was present, and this one attacked as well attempting to sneak at Lorenor whilst he was busy blocking the first attack. So they will attempt to pincer me. A worthy tactic. But I must pass this first obstacle if I am to get to where I need to get. I cannot allow these heathens to stop me. As he held his own weight against the first Wraith, the second Wraith managed to grab the mutant.

Feeling his energy being drained by the Wraith's touch, the mutant growled out in anger. He felt a powerful vibration signaling that his Plasma Discharge Gun was ready for use. Lorenor turned the dagger to its side and slashed in an attempt to sever the Wraith's hand from the rest of its arm. At the same time, the mutant released a powerful radial blast of kinetic energy from the Plasma Discharge Gun. A loud sound burst from the advanced energy weapon, resulting in a wave that erupted from the gun. Brilliantly glowing purple energy pulsed outward. Reeling from the blast as it passed through them, the two Wraiths let go of their target and retreated howling into the Antifirmanent. Lorenor gasped as he released the kinetic attack, standing up a few moments later. He cleaned the snow off his person and felt the Plasma Discharge Gun revert back to its normal position inside the Aegis Bracer. Lorenor had a feeling he would have to fall back on all his tricks as the night's events unfolded.

One thing was certain, there was never a dull night in Knife's Edge.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The Wraiths are heavy in activity tonight. Something must be going on, something big. Or maybe it was just a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Lorenor got used to the weight of the porcelain mask against his face. Breathing against the mask was a different problem, but thankfully there was a breathing apparatus in place for the mask so Lorenor could breath in it safely. It was strange. He was an undead trying to be a shadow, wearing a mask to hide a scarred face. It was almost poetry. I am trying to get a potentially very powerful mark here. I have to put on my best mask in order to succeed. I cannot allow my personal feelings to interfere in this matter, I must focus. Lorenor thought to himself as he walked preparing for the long night ahead. He had already faced the fact that he would potentially fail in his task, his opponent was potentially that powerful. After replacing his weapon in its appropriate scabbard, the mutant continued to walk forward towards the destination where his target was rumored to be.

The journey lead him towards a position that was rather far away from the target's house on Willheim Street. Lorenor knew where he was heading to. An alleyway that was adjacent to one of the main hot spots of Knife's Edge political body. As Lorenor walked towards that neighborhood, the mutant could see the streets become busier and busier. Security was also much tighter. Lorenor was not dressed like the other Professionals, and pointing him out as a Church Assassin would be a difficult task. Spotting a few guards standing on their various positions and on patrol, the mutant kept a watchful eye on these units.

Employed by the men of King Iorlan Rathaxea, these men were as fanatical to the crown as Denebriel's followers were loyal to her. Several individuals walked around in a large crowd attempting to get into a specific building. Lorenor walked further and got a bit of a general idea of what the security was like and then prepared then walked into a side alley. It was two buildings down from the building in question. Salvarn architectural aesthetics was amongst some of the most unique in the world. Lorenor could see paintings of various Salvarn events, some ancient, some more recent etched on the world. Some of it was graffiti drawn by the young political activists of the world. There were a few anti-crown statements, and even some anti-church statements all on the same block. Walking into the alley, Lorenor smelled the intense, rancid odor of trash. There were piles of it wrapped in industrial bags and long forgotten by the general populace.

The mutant knew he had found the perfect cover.

On the sides of the buildings were various pipes and escape mechanisms attached to ladders in case of fires. Lorenor found it ironic that the Salvarns had such security in place, knowing that it would help to be their government's undoing. He jumped up into the air using his advanced reflexes and began to climb to the top of the building. Thankfully, the building was not very tall. Lorenor managed to make it to the building's rooftop without incident. As he suspected, there was no security in this area of the Thieves' Highway. Pigeons and other avians were resting in nests that were constructed underneath the various elements of human technology in Salvar. Lorenor walked towards the edge closest to the building in question. He prepared the length of rope he had acquired for the mission and readied his seldom used crossbow. The rope was attached to a single bolt and the mutant only had one shot to get everything right. With some luck, and the blessings of N'Jal, the mutant could come out on top during this particularly dangerous mission.

As soon as he prepared the crossbow with the impressive length of rope, the mutant tied one end around one of the nearby roof-top structures. It was a steel construction and would support his weight effectively enough. After tying the rope, he put himself next to the wall of the building, shorter on the roof, and aimed as carefully as he could. Admittedly, he had very little experience with his crossbow and would have to remedy that very soon. He held the crossbow with both hands to support the weight of the weapon. Then, he silently fired off the rope into the night. The opposite building was still within his sensory sphere. Snaking towards the building, the rope unwound itself and made its way towards the far off wall. There was a large amount of rope, and when it became taught, the mutant lowered his weapon for a moment, and placed it back on his person. Removing the metal clamps from his packs, Lorenor attached it to the sturdy rope, and used it like a handle. With this device set up, the mutant could effectively enter the building through its root-top area.

The abyss became his only partner as he swung from the building like some kind of twisted human projectile...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Thankfully, the other building was considerably shorter by a story or two.

When Lorenor felt the clamp ascending to its lowest point and just above the rooftop of the other building, the mutant released the clamp. He tumbled upon the roof of the next building with a barely audible thud. Rolling forward, the mutant gathered himself as quickly as he could. Standing up, Lorenor drew his prevalida longsword, preparing for imminent combat. He pointed the weapon directly in front of himself as he waited for guards to arrive. Muscles knotted, and bosom was tensed as he held his breath for a long moment. The hot steam flowed from his mouth. He'd cleared the first obstacle of his mission. With a moment or two to think about the task at hand, Lorenor pondered the progress of his companions.

He pondered just exactly how they would sneak into the building. Lorenor knew from experience that the other Professionals working for the Cathedral were much more merciless than he. They would strike down pedestrians without mercy. Mercy is for the weak. The precepts of Denebriel's assassins was much different from the teachings taught to the general populace of Knife's Edge. Lorenor memorized the teachings. He didn't necessarily agree with the teachings as a follower of N'Jal, but they had their merits. Proper use of the assassin's creed could keep the mutant alive in this particularly dangerous mission.

Remembering the precepts, the mutant had a focus and a drive. He carefully recited them over and over in his mind as one might recite a mantra. With both hands clenched on his prevalida weapon, the mutant assumed a tight combat position. He was a practitioner of Th'llexyah Drukai, a style of martial combat taught by the Monks of Ai'Bron.

The style was adaptable for both armed and unarmed combat. Lorenor would have to apply all of his skills in order to fell the many opponents that he would face before the night was through. Knowing that he was walking into a war, the mutant walked across the rooftop as quietly as he could. The stars shone brightly overhead, and a thick blanket of snow steadily fell everywhere. Lorenor's hide boots made very little noise as they lightly traveled with the skill of an experienced assassin.

Now that Lorenor was on the rooftop, he needed a way into the structure.

Spotting a door that lead from the rooftop into the building, the mutant said a final prayer to N'Jal and prepared to descend into the depths of the steel and iron beast. Lorenor powerfully kicked the oak door in, the structure fell off its hinges. It left the door creaking off of a few nails and hanging at an awkward angle. Snow began to drift into the empty staircase, a cold wind soon followed. Salvar was always cold, and the mutant had long gotten used to that frigid weather. His thick hide cloak and finely woven clothing allowed him to remain warm in the cold extremes.

He walked into the building in silence. The only tell-tale sign of his movement was the glow of his prevalida weapon. Lorenor frowned behind the mask as he still met no resistance. No complex traps awaited, no guards were on patrol. Something was terribly wrong...

Lorenor felt a strange feeling in his gut.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The stone stairs that the mutant descended now were built extremely well.

There were markings and symbols on the wall. Torches that were lit with magical fire were stationed about the stairwell providing natural light. Lorenor smelled nothing. He heard nothing. Only the sound of the steady wind howling and the feeling of snow against his sensory sphere. He walked down very slowly, the stairs making no noise. For a brief moment, fear began to clutch the mutant's black heart. A fear that quickly accelerated his heart, forcing it to beat much faster in his chest. The mutant attempted to hold his breath as long as he could, he did not want to give his position away to the enemy.

Finally, the staircase ended after roughly thirty paces or so. The mutant had not bothered to count. His hands had a nervous shake to them as if this was the first such mission he had ever been on. Too many variables burned through Lorenor's brain as he made his way into the top floor of the structure. As he entered the building proper, he noticed that there were the same magical torches in this hallway as well. The hall extended for a length that exceeded his sensory sphere, and he could see indentations of adjacent hallways and passages. There were doors too, doors on either side of the hall. The building's walls had a mysterious glow to them that was a result of the glow of the torchlight.

Lorenor's eyes flitted about the hallways as he searched for traps or other hidden dangers. Matters in the Antifirmanent were quiet as well which served to further disturb the mutant. Looking back for a moment, Lorenor pondered a safe retreat for the time being to further plan for his mission.

He quickly discarded that thought. Abandoning a mission was a serious offense in the Cathedral and was punishable by death. It was written in the precepts. Locked in his duty, the mutant had no choice but to proceed forward without fear. He swallowed, attempting to calm his nerves. He knew he was facing a superior mark this time and would have virtually no help from the rest of the professionals. They were merely there as a back-up should Lorenor fail.

The mark, and the nature of the mission was too important to the Church.

Lorenor rotated his weapon for a moment, continuing to penetrate the building further. He was searching carefully for his target, seeing through the walls and other barriers. So far, he'd found nothing that resembled the target. Two lovers in the act. A soldier sharpening his sword. Some people sleeping. The building seemed to double as a personal asylum for allies of King Iorlan Rathaxea. It was a hot-bed. A cesspool of the dirty nature of humans. I see you swine. Lorenor wanted to go on a rampage and kill all on sight, but he had to focus on the mission first. Taking on the guise of a ghost was not an easy task.

Continuing to walk into the depths of the building, the mutant kept all senses out for the image of the person he was after. He suspected the man would be in a personal quarters of some sort. A bleak world where assassins were like shadows in the night. Lorenor met little resistance on this floor and made his way to another staircase that went down for several floors. With his advanced auspex powers, the mutant would be capable of spotting his target from several feet away. There, he could determine the next course of action and prepare for the act...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

There was a carpet atop the stone floor that was embroidered with solid gold. It was also made out of fine materials, and was an elegant depiction of Salvar's finest artists. Lorenor had no time to admire the finery of the expensive carpets. From time to time, he would see tapestries on the wall, paintings, vases, and other expensive artifacts used to provide decoration and atmosphere for this decadent place. It took Lorenor a moment or two to realize the type of establishment he was currently in. This was a private establishment for many of the power-mongers in Knife's Edge. As he moved deeper into the dark world, he saw the decadence of humanity all around. Still no guards. The mutant was beginning to worry about that seriously at this point. His mark couldn't have been that careless. Something was definitely wrong, that feeling in his stomach wasn't going away. And then it happened, the mutant stumbled upon a chamber that contained his target. Lorenor had memorized every aspect of the target from the pictures and detailed information he'd been given as a part of the mission at hand.

***

II--The Hunt Begins...

He paced back and forth. The man was quiet, he'd been so for many nights now pondering the night that was coming. From the dreams he'd been suffering of late, he knew that the imminent moment of his last hour was coming quite soon. What he didn't know was the exact hour and method of his death. He knew that he had enemies, and he knew that they were organizing their forces against him and the followers of King Iorlan Rathaxea. With a shaking hand, the man wiped sweat off his aging brow. He put a drink to his lips for the umpteenth time as if alcohol would sooth him in anyway. Long ago, he'd sent his men to their chambers because he wanted to face death alone in whatever form it would come to him. He was no coward. He would never run from what was coming, but he could not help but be frightened. Then, his door was violently kicked in, knocked off its hinges. He felt a cold breeze touch his skin and the rancid smell of death touched his nostrils making them flare.

"So you've come have you?" The man asked of Lorenor. He turned to face his assailant as the creature of darkness stepped into his room. "Might I know what name death has before I send you to The Pyre?"

***

The questions lingered in the air as the mutant saw his opponent. The man was a later aged fellow. He had long, platinum colored hair. It was braided in a fancy hairstyle to match his social status. The mark had wrinkles on his face from ripe old age. Lorenor really wondered what the Church would gain from defeating such a man in the zenith of his life. It was not his place to question his superiors however. Lorenor laughed at the man's questions as he walked closer to him, still in combat position.

"I am afraid you will not know the name that death wears. Or the identity behind the mask." Lorenor continued. "I trust you know why I am here?" Lorenor asked.

"I do." He said. "But I will not make this easy for you. You will remember me for the rest of your life!"

"I expected you would put up a fight old man. But I have come here ready for one."

In a moment, Lorenor called The Endless and the organic armour, surrounded his flesh. Bursting forth in a hideous transformation, the mutant was fully armored now. The Endless appeared as a shell carapace, making the creature look even more bizarre than before. Lorenor was now standing just a few paces in front of the target. He was prepared to attack, but something made him hesitate even as he transformed into The Endless, and The Endless transformed into him. The markings of N'Jal were etched upon the armour he wore in a confusing configuration meant to put the victim on edge. When Lorenor saw the look of fear in the man's eyes he grinned behind the helmet he wore. The horns were jutting out from the sides of his helmet, the top, and the back. The Horns of Power.

"What in the name of The Thayne are you to wield such accursed power?!"

"What I am is not your concern. Why I am here is. Draw your weapon or die like a coward!" Lorenor called out to the target. "I don't care which you do, but I will claim your head this night."

With shaking hands that soon steadied, Lorenor saw that the target drew a prevalida weapon of his own. This meant that the old man was not going to hold back. Good. I prefer things this way, it makes things easier on everybody in the end anyway. Lorenor charged suddenly at his best speed and reflexes capacity. He swung at an angle from right to left in an attempt to disarm the old man. Lorenor noticed that the old man's eyes quickly began to glow as he summoned what power he had left in his old age. The nimbus cloud surrounded the old man, and he breathed a sigh of relief, all in the fraction of several seconds faster than Lorenor could actually act. The world slowed down. By N'Jal, the son of a bitch is fast! There was a clang in that resonated across the air as the old man reacted with barely enough time to intercept Lorenor's attack. The mutant laughed at the old man before him. As the two warriors clashed swords, sparks from the heated prevalida blades lit up the poorly lit room. Lorenor was using his strength against the older gentleman, but the man was able to hold his own against him...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

As the world slowed down, Lorenor reacted as quickly as he could to the old man's incoming assault. Lorenor had to stay on top of the attacks as the old man reacted. Their eyes were locked together in their own dangerous assault as they fought. Lorenor's weapon reacted to everything that the old man did, they were both warriors on equal footing. That was how Lorenor knew that he did not have to hold back against this target, he would have to fight with every ounce of skill he could muster. By then, the mutant had activated his flight ability to take the fight to the target. Lorenor felt his sword slamming against the old man's sword, the kick-back was tremendous. It felt like he was slashing against a wall built of titanium. The mutant would have to utilize every dirty trick in his arsenal if he was to survive the battle. By then, they were both airborne. The old man had shown Lorenor an extreme resilience despite his physical vessel. Lorenor continued to intercept the incoming attacks with tremendous speed and skill, yet, somehow, the old man was capable of meeting him blow for blow.

The fully armored mutant continued to fight against the old man. Time passed. Since they were both as equals in terms of skill, the mutant could fight the old man until he let up in some way, or until his heart gave out, or both happened. Lorenor continued to fight. There was much on the line for the mutant, this was a battle that had to be won.

Each incoming attack was completely flawless. Each interception, equally flawless. Blocks. Parries. Counter attempts. It was all a dance of technical precision and incredible skill. It was almost beautiful to watch the two fight in such a way, without holding back. Veteran against veteran.

Feeling his black heart beating rapidly in his chest, the mutant soon realized that he could not defeat the swordsman on his own. He would have to tip the scales in his favor somehow. He would have to fall back on what he knew best: fighting dirty. Lorenor had an honour code, but it didn't apply to jobs like this. He would have to win, or die trying. No matter the cost, no matter the price. Lorenor was prepared for any outcome in this battle, even his own death. That's what made practitioners of the Monks' Art exceptionally dangerous. The mutant would have to fall back on his basic training in order to survive. More importantly, he would have to fall back on more advanced tactics. Taking the old man head on was no longer an option. Lorenor quickly realized that the old veteran had too many tricks up his sleeved. Including that prevalida sword. With his eyes narrowed behind the mask, the mutant continued to attack, but this time, something else happened. The mutant shifted quickly into a combat stance better suited to a practitioner of Th'llexyah Drukai. This action would help Lorenor concentrate on the task at hand.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

When Lorenor took the combat position of The Art, the mutant felt more in his natural element. With his hateful eyes locked upon his opponent, Lorenor prepared to continue the battle. Despite the slow-down of the world as the two warriors collided, Lorenor saw that the old man paused to gather his breath. Lorenor walked over towards the old man with a grin behind the mask. He remained in his trained combat stance preparing to move against the old man. Then, the old man spoke.

"Wait. That fighting style, it is Th'llexyah Drukai, is it not?" The old man asked. "That's a fighting style taught only to members of the Order of Ai'Bron. How would someone like you know it?" The old man spoke with venom in his voice, even as Lorenor covered the distance. Lorenor would continue the battle despite the sudden pause in the assault.

"I am a practitioner of The Art. That's all you need to know. I am going to use it to send you to The Pyre, where you belong old man."

Lorenor said, there was a madness in his voice. The mutant felt exhilaration at being able to fight without holding back. It had been many ages since the last time he could have a battle like that. Lorenor took another skilled swing towards the midsection of the old man, attempting to catch him off guard. He reacted with that same reaction time, that same endless cunning that he was revealing through the entire fight. The old man fought with tremendous skill. Lorenor did not recognize the fighting style he used, but assumed it was native to Salvar. As the old man used it, Lorenor became more and more comfortable with the various counters and parries he used against it.

"So the Order of Ai'Bron declares war against Salvar too?!" The old man asked as though he were shocked by the idea.

"You fool! I don't represent the Order. I am here to eliminate my employers' enemies. Starting with the kin of Iorlan Rathaxea! I am here to ensure that Salvar's old ways come to end!" The doctrine was words that only a member of a very specific organization would speak with such command. Lorenor saw the look of fear in the man's eyes and that brought a satisfied feeling to the mutant's gut. He had done his job, and he suddenly understood why the Cathedral had chosen him for this particular job and not any of his superiors. Lorenor's bosom filled with pride as he struck against the old man and he countered. Lorenor's eyes burned with a fury that he felt with every passing moment.

"Blasphemy!" The old man yelled. "You're from the fucking Church, aren't you, another Thaynes-forsaken Assassin! I should have known!" The old man took a step back as he countered an incoming attack from Lorenor.

Counter. Parry. Block. This time however, the mutant was using The Art against the old man. The old man launched a particularly devastating move against Lorenor. Reacting with The Art, the mutant turned towards the incoming maneuver in a skillful pivot. Lowering his guard ever so minutely, the mutant turned his body towards the sword. The prevalida weapon came cutting skillfully through The Endless, but the armour succeeded in absorbing just enough of the momentum and damage of the blow to slow it down. The weapon was lodged in the arm where the Aegis Bracer was connected to. Lorenor moved towards the weapon to insure that it was lodged for just enough time. Used to the agony of warfare and such tactics, his body was already regenerating at a steady rate. Lorenor had his sword pointed at an angle towards the ground and proceeded to slice upwards in an attempt to slice at the old man's arm.

Everything happened so quickly that both warriors were caught off guard.

Flinching briefly, Lorenor frowned when he heard the agonized scream of the old man. Blood sprayed through the air. Lorenor's attack continued to move upward as he lopped off a good chunk of the old man's arm, sending it hanging down, bleeding towards the ground. Taking several steps back, the old man clutched at the bloody stump. He stared at Lorenor with an incredulous look on his face. Lorenor continued his attack however, even as the old man realized what was happening. It had all been a set up. The mutant was no fool and was a skilled practitioner of The Art. Continuing the swing...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Elsewhere...

The professional assassin removed his weapon from the Captain of the Guards hired by the old man. It proved to be a dreadful battle, and two of the professionals fell to the group of guards. Two remained, including Lorenor's superior officer. The man cleaned his prevalida twin daggers for a moment as he looked at the dead all around him. Hundreds of them. The Professional had not cut loose like that in a very long time. Hearing footsteps behind him, Y'var Flagune turned to the other remaining Professional. Both of the Assassins wore masks that were configured uniquely to the owner. They had worked long and hard to climb up the ranks of the Cathedral's organization and earn the right to wear masks. Herr Y'var walked over to his last remaining companion whilst nodding briefly. The other Assassin looked around the chamber approvingly for a moment. There were many dead. Blood flowed from the bodies in puddles that the Professionals stepped on. Most of the bodies were guards, but a few of them were employees of that old man.

"How goes The Hunt?" Herr Flagune asked.

"He just completed his task..." The other Assassin said as he looked up towards the ceiling for a moment. The only sound they could hear was an intense sharp screaming from far away. "...Except for our mistakes, the mission was a complete success." The Assassin said calmly.

Herr Flagune listened for a moment and spoke again.

"There will be no witnesses. This area will be completely burnt down soon enough. Continue on mission. We will meet at the chosen rendezvous point."

"Understood Herr Flagune." The second Assassin said, and took his leave of the chamber and the dead.

Y'var Flagune admired his work for a second longer, then prepared to go to the basement where the old liquor was kept...the entire building would go up in flames before the night was through.

***

"No! Guards!" The old man yelled, but it was too late.

Even though he was trying to react and move away, Lorenor had successfully utilized a technique of The Art. With his sword slicing down, the mutant was prepared to cut the upper body off the old man. As the old man screamed once more, Lorenor finished the task at hand. Slicing at a perfect angle, the mutant removed the head of the old man, cutting straight down and removing much of the old man's upper body. His prevalida sword cut cleanly through the flesh. Lorenor spun around for a brief moment, and returned to combat stance. Deciding that the threat was eliminated, Lorenor sheathed his weapon in his scabbard and pulled the old man's sword from his deltoid. Black ichor burst out from the fresh wound causing the mutant to growl a bit. He saw a scabbard for the second prevalida sword on the old man, and took that as well, sheathing his newly acquired prize. Then, the mutant removed his prevalida dagger and carefully severed the old man's head off the body...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The old man's head was now safely stored in his travel packs. Ready to get the hell out of the place, the mutant pondered if he had time to loot the old man's room. Deciding that he would go for it, the mutant walked over to a fancy desk and smashed it open with the Aegis Bracer. Several documents were in the desk along with the desk's fallen pieces. With the pile of documents, the mutant noticed a small black box, and several notebooks. Feeling in his gut that these items were probably very important to his superiors, the mutant snatched them as quickly as he could. There was no time to read or inspect the documents, he simply took what he could. Once the deed was done, Lorenor opened the window as wide as he could...

"By the Thayne! He's dead!" Suddenly came a voice from behind. "You there, stop!" Several more angry voices came from deeper in the hallway as they ran towards the mutant's position. Men drew weapons of all sorts and stepped into the room. "Assassin! Stay where you are! Do not take another step, I have a bowgun trained at your heart!" Lorenor grinned at that command. Like Hell I'm sticking around here! "May Rathaxea's heralds all fall to The Pyre!" Lorenor cursed out loud. He removed his Aero Wand from his packs and launched a potent burst of Air Arkanos at the group of men behind him. Then, he turned towards the open window and jumped out into the night...

"Stop him!" The men were knocked back and on the ground as they attempted to gather their forces. Arrows and bolts were launched towards the open window but the Assassin was already gone. Orders were barked at the ranks of men as they gathered and stopped their night activities. Some ran downstairs and made a terrible discovery...

It was all a set-up...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Guards walked towards the main chambers of the offices and discovered the dead. Everywhere. Bodies were all around that were horrendously mutilated or otherwise torn apart. Each new discovery made the guards realize that this was all an elaborate plot to keep them from their true enemy. With the old man dead, chaos would spread within Parliament. The King was nowhere to be found, and a new age of darkness would settle onto the very heart of Salvar. As the guards searched for what survivors they could find...

***

With the explosive devices set in the wine cellar, Y'var Flagune was ready to get out of there. He cast the magics necessary to light the explosive devices, and set the charge. Soon, a powerful explosion filled the chamber, the roof collapse from the explosion, as it traveled quickly through the old building. Fire spread through the hallways, even as Herr Flagune found one of the windows to escape from. His companion, the last remaining Assassin of that small group had locked and chained all of the exits on ground level in an attempt to prevent the men from escaping. There would be no witnesses. A brilliant work of planning, The Cathedral had laid direct siege to all that remained of Rathaxea's control. The Professionals vanished into the night leaving no witnesses as to whose hand really performed the deed. With a powerful burst of burning flames, the explosion burst out of the basement area of the building. It shot off in a plume into the night sky. Smoke from the fires filled the night air, and the fires began to quickly spread across that district of Salvar...

***

Hearing the explosion from a safe distance, Lorenor looked upon the falling building even as the screams touched his sensory grid. With a smile on his face, the mutant watched on a nameless street corner. People were running to and from the scene of the sudden incident. Two individuals moved towards the mutant, detaching themselves from the shadows. Lorenor immediately recognized the two remaining Assassins. The mutant laughed as the building burned and crumbled to the ground...

"Herr Flagune, there were casualties?" Lorenor asked with a hint of sadness in his voice. "It will be difficult to replace the other Practitioners." Lorenor noticed that Herr Flagune walked over to him and placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"You did well Herr Lorenor." The superior paused. "Our Masters will be proud of your commitment to our organization. You should be proud of what you have done this night. We have taken the battle to our enemies and taken a proactive stance against them. They will be hard pressed to recover from this blow."

"I have the package with me. I was able to obtain it without incident." Lorenor clutched his injured shoulder. "Well, I did have one set-back. But I will heal in time."

"The Target was very skilled. How did you manage to pull it off?" The second Assassin asked.

"I have my secrets brother." Lorenor said calmly. "I was able to catch him off guard with one of my secrets. It saved my life."

"Herr Lorenor, you will grow very powerful someday. For now, let us return to the Cathedral..."

***

"You three! Halt!" Came a sudden commanding voice.

Guards. Lots of them.

"Shit! Herr Lorenor, someone must've escaped to alert those loyal to our enemy."

Soon, the trio was surrounded by at least twenty heads. Lorenor frowned at this new development. He would have sworn that they were in the clear, but now it seemed like fighting in the streets was the only option. The guards were trained city-folk but they were not used to dealing with opponents like the Professionals. Lorenor drew both of the prevalida swords he had in his possession. His arm was regeneration quickly, but he had not yet gathered his full strength there. The mutant knew that he would have to be careful with that arm. Lorenor looked at his superior officer, and the man nodded.

"Fight your way out!" Herr Flagune suddenly yelled. "Do-not allow yourself to be captured!"

And the true battle began...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

All at once, the order to attack was given to the ranks of their enemies. The trio reacted as one unit. With the exception of the second Assassin, whose identity remained unrevealed, Flagune and Lorenor drew prevalida weapons. The unnamed professional drew a weapon made out of titanium. They all wielded various degrees of blades and swords. Jotham dual-wielded his two prevalida longswords, Flagune held a great-sword, and the unnamed Professional wielded a well made broadsword.

As one group, the City Guard of Knife's Edge attempted to rush the smaller group of Assassins. Lorenor attacked the nearest of the enemy warriors, he swung the weapon in his left hand forward in a downward angle, then swung his opposite hand in an ellipse movement. Both strikes were time perfectly and meant to incapacitate the target. The enemy wielded various degrees of plynt-damascus weaponry. They were armoured in suits ranging from heavy, reinforced leather, to suits made of mythril. Shields were exposed but they would do nothing against the prevalida tiered weapons. The three Assassins functioned a single entity, moving in circular patterns as they attacked with fluid movements.

Blood and screams filled the air. Preparing his weapons, the mutant was ready to release unholy hell upon the guards. He knew one key matter about the entire event: Iorlan Rathaxea had gone missing and had abandoned the throne. A thick layer of snow covered the stone floor, and that snow was now marred by blood-stains. The guards wielded heavy boot-falls as they attempted to overwhelm the trio. Metal clanked against metal as the soldiers moved in an attempt to swarm the Professionals.

Keeping calm, the Assassins rotated their movements and functioned as a single phalanx. The fight was going according to the rules established by the Professionals and not the city-guard. Lorenor swung both weapons and managed to decapitate another guard. Each swing from the Assassins was precise and deadly as they fought their way through the incoming force.

The City Guard police force was clearly outclassed by the Professionals from St. Denebriel's Cathedral. City training was simply no match for the fanaticism that the Professionals possessed. Each one a loyal follower of the precepts and the Assassin's Creed, the Professionals worked to make as many killing strikes as possible. Each blow was fluid, seamless, practiced over many ages of training. With fresh blood spilled on the streets and flowing into the gutter, the guards continued their advanced. Both sides revealed their fervor and loyalty to the cause that they believed in.

A single commanding officer gave orders to the rest of his troops. He saw that they were being cut down like insects. "Formations, everyone!" The soldier yelled, he wore the symbols of the crown of Salvar, etched on his breastplate. The man commanded an elegant sword made out of mythril. His men were being cut-down by the traitorous Assassins of The Sway. He spotted their uniforms and masks. Determining that the assassination attempt was most like orders given to them by The Sway.

Several more reinforcements were now engaging the trio. However, the Assassins were expertly cutting those numbers down. Heads and mangled bodies rested on the ground now, blood pouring from exit wounds of various types. Agonized cries flowed from the lips of the injured and still living warriors working for the City Guard. It was a beautiful scene of chaos and discord. Lorenor smiled behind the mask at a chance to cause so much chaos. He could cause even more if he was allowed a chance to work from the Necronomicon's fell pages...Lorenor would need cover to take advantage of the fresh bodies that were on the ground. He wanted to build up the ranks of his companions. Looking at the nearest body, Lorenor sliced a nearby city guardsman in half, the man's entrails bursting out from his stomach.

He fell to the ground in two clean pieces.

With that, Lorenor prepared his next plan.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Krell Nanthepo could not believe what he was seeing. After narrowly escaping from the exploding building, Krell organized his faction on short notice. The surviving Assassin that they'd captured spilled his guts after only an hour of extreme torture before he passed into the next life. Hopefully to The Pyre for his sins against the state of Salvar. In an instant, three single members of The Sway had cut down his police force. He would have to request an increased budget from the parliament for security purposes. Krell readied his mithril sword. His long, flowing cloak had the symbols of the Rathaxea household. Only a few of the guards and citizens within the building were able to escape. The rest fell to the explosion, they were not in time. Krell suspected that the incendiary device came from those traitorous Drow from Alerar. Rushing past a group of retreating guards, Krell could not contain his frustration. Three, three Assassins did all this damage to us! Has the Thayne forsaken us?! Krell cringed at the idea that his men were running away from three units when Krell's police force clearly outnumbered them.

Krell was a man that stood at about five-feet-eleven inches. He weighed in approximately one hundred and ninety pounds, and had a slender physique. The man was more of an acrobat than a warrior, quick on his feet and quick to react. He had a small, pointy chin, green eyes, brown, tightly cropped hair, a clean face, and a well defined nose. His lips were full. His hair was worn in the style of Salvar's military forces. A few braids were present in some of the locks in his hair. He wore mail which was comprised of mythril. Enchanted with various spells, it gave off its own nimbus that surrounded the acrobat. Though the mail was heavy, it was enchanted to be light when worn specifically by Krell. Krell's sword was a heavy broadsword that was double-edged. He had various other weapons on his person as well. Krell had medium-sized hands that were gloved with combat gloves, his armor had spikes that jutted out of various places made out of steel. All in all, Krell was probably a skilled acrobat-fighter, but his forces were not.

They were a volunteer police force. Trained by the various trainers around Knife's Edge, the police force did not have the training of the Military. Krell moved in with anger in his posture, confidence in his step. He stepped on the various bodies of his men. Former allies, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, uncles, family members. Mercilessly, the members of The Sway had slaughtered his kin. What was The Clergy thinking?

"Enough!" Krell suddenly yelled. "Fall back. I'll take care of this myself."

He watched the rest of the men retreat, and the fighting slow down considerably. The trio stood in a phalanx position, obviously well trained. Krell walked over to them and raised a hand in acceptance of the ill-fated situation. Krell hated having to submit to these devils, but enough lives were lost this night, and Krell was not a fool. This crime would be examined very carefully by parliament as an open act of war on behalf of The Sway.

"You there, Assassin. You are from The Sway are you not?" Krell asked, recognizing the loose uniform configuration of The Sway on two of the three Assassins. One of them did not wear the markings of The Sway, but gave off a nimbus cloud of danger. "You would be wise to answer."

***

From the carnage, an officer stepped forward. The man wore an elegant outfit with the markings of their enemy. Lorenor hissed when he saw this man, there was an aura about the fellow. The mutant prepared to step forward and slay this man, but his superior placed a hand on chest. The mutant understood that meant to wait, and so, Lorenor would. Y'var Flagune stepped forward with both bloodied weapons drawn. He broke formation for only a few moments, in order to address the man who worked for their enemy. Lorenor felt an immediate discomfort at the fact that the phalanx had been severed for even the briefest of moments. The mutant observed the unfolding situation.

Herr Flagune spoke.

"We are from--"

***

That was all that Krell needed to act. Acting as the chief officer of the local police force, Krell had decided executing these individuals publicly was probably the way to go. Althanas was locked in dark times, and these were dark days. When the leader of the Assassins stepped forward, Krell acted. He did not need the conformation to understand that they were from The Sway. Krell recognized the attire of most of the Assassins present. Only one of the three men did not wear the markings of The Sway which Krell found extremely unusual. Is this man an outsider? Krell thought to himself even as he attacked Herr Flagune.

Not wasting anytime, Krell just needed an excuse to break the three Assassins' phalanx. He knew that together, Krell had no hope of defeating them. But one by one, Krell could take them out and even arrest one of them or both of the remaining Professionals. They had information critical to The Sway's current field operations. Krell needed that information and would do anything in his power to get it. The Assassins were a ruthless not well known for their brutality. Krell had to be even more ruthless than the Professionals if he was to survive. And with those thoughts, Krell attacked the leader of the Assassins...

***

"You son of a bitch!"

Lorenor yelled as Herr Flagune fell, mortally wounded by the cowardly attack. Immediately, Lorenor felt rage at his fallen companion, but his remaining partner placed a hand upon the mutant's shoulder. Pausing for the briefest of moments, Lorenor wanted to try to claim the body of Herr Flagune so The Sway could give him his Last Rites. Blood leaked from the serious injury that he had received to his stomach, the wound was fatal even as the enemy officer removed his weapon from the fallen body. The mutant understood why his companion had stopped him from exacting revenge.

"Herr Lorenor. You are in charged of the operation. We must see this job through to its end. You now succeed Herr Flagune's station as a superior officer." His companion said calmly. The mutant understood the man's meaning. Lorenor had obtained a station of considerable leadership now, but still wanted to honour his fallen friend. Still holding his weapons, the mutant looked upon the enemy officer calmly. There was anger in his heart, as his chest swelled up and down.

"That treachery will cost you a thousand deaths!" Herr Lorenor said with anger in his voice. "Head back to The Sway and inform our Superiors in The Clergy what has happened here." Lorenor commanded to his fellow. Nodding casually, the nameless Assassin parted ways with Lorenor, leaving the mutant to his confrontation with the officer.

"Coward. You have my undivided attention now."

[Mutant_Lorenor]

As the two warriors stared at one another, the mutant's expression was a deadly one. Seething with anger and rage at the loss of his comrade, Lorenor wanted to deliver great suffering upon the man before him. Walking towards Krell Nanthepo, Lorenor stopped within striking distance. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, and the glowing pattern flowing from his eyes swirled upwards toward the sky. The mutant clutched his weapon with one hand so that it was pointed at the ground. Hungry to spill more blood now, the mutant continued to study his cunning opponent. The man was well-armed and well-trained.

"Do you honestly think that I will let you walk away from this!?" The man said to Lorenor. "Your friend there obviously meant a lot to you. Why are you willing to throw your life away in servitude of that crumbling organization?" The man asked. "What benefits do you gain from going up against the crown?" The man asked speaking as if they were equals.

Thinking for a moment, the mutant came up with a suitable reply.

"You don't get it do you?" Lorenor began. "I am with The Sway not out of blind loyalty to Denebriel. I could care less about Denebriel, I carry my Goddess with me." Lorenor tapped his chest to emphasize his point. "The Sway allows me to do that which I love to do the most. Create chaos in the name of my Goddess. We members of the Assassins' Guild are all unique amongst ourselves. We are worth ten of you bastards. " Lorenor continued. "The Sway is not blind to the corruption in this world. Unlike men like you. You see the darkness and you strike because you do not understand it. I know the Living Dark intimately, because I am of it. I know why I fight the crown and what it represents. With men like your traitorous King in charged of Althanas, the world can never prosper in its industry. Your leaders have their hands sullied in the events that slow progress in our world. You cannot out-argue semantics with someone like me." Lorenor was speaking in a growl now. "Let me ask you one thing, why do you blindly follow the crown like a sheep waiting for the wolves?"

There was a pause.

"You are truly a vile creature!" Krell Nanthepo said. "You are nothing more than a petty anarchist that stands for nothing. Your words are as empty as your soul." He said. "I serve the crown because it is the right thing to do. My liege vanishes for his own reason, but I have faith that what he has done is for the improvement of Salvar." He shook his head. "I can never convince someone like you to abandon The Sway and its evil ways. I see that I have no choice but to put you down in the name of the Crown."

And the battle began...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Talking was now over and done with. Lorenor came to the conclusion that this man could not be reasoned with or negotiated with. This man was his enemy, and that's all that counted.

Lorenor's muscles bunched together tightly as he prepared for the battle at hand. He'd earned a hard-fought victory in fighting the Old Man. Tired and mentally worn out, Lorenor wanted to just get this battle over with as quickly as he could. He admired the weapon that Krell Nanthepo wielded, the blade was masterwork in quality. He would let his own prevalida sword lash out against the incoming opponent. Lorenor saw that the man was rushing at him blindly, underestimating the mutant and what he was capable of.

Moving his sword that it blocked his front side, the mutant was staring with an angry expression on his face. The wind caused his cloak to dance about like an angry, caged devil. Muscles were knotted now, as the world seemed to slow down. Lorenor could move with tremendous speed and reflexes now, and he saw that the man was moving impossibly slow in an attempt to rush the mutant. With his super reflexes and speed at the ready, Lorenor growled lowly to signal his threat towards the incoming man. When Krell finally did reach him, Lorenor was prepared.

The mutant acted. He reached forward with his weapon and swung in a wide arch at the incoming Salvarn. Lorenor struck without mercy or pity, he simply struck. Ages of refined skill and training were behind the sword-slash, and Lorenor knew what would happen. He vaguely saw that his opponent reached out with his weapon, lashing quick as a lightning bolt. In all due respects, Lorenor was faster with his superhuman speed and reflexes. The mutant readied himself for the incoming attack. At his will, The Endless sprung to life, an elegant armour.

Surrounding the mutant's vessel quickly, The Endless solidified becoming a potent armour about the mutant's body. Lorenor frowned at this occurrence, perhaps he should never have summoned the living armour of The Endless. Feeling the dull impact against his second epidermis, the mutant barely registered any pain. The Endless writhed against the sword impact as the enemy struck forward. Lorenor's eyes carefully studied the man's shocked expression. He burned the image into his memory, studying it, memorizing it. The look of absolute terror on the man's face was completely priceless.

With Lorenor's movement, the prevalida weapon lashed out as one entity with the mutant. Eager to consume flesh, Lorenor put his impressive strength behind the sword-strike as well. Well within close-combat range now, the mutant did not hesitate. No hesitation, or fear lurked within that movement. He simply lashed out. The sword's blade reflected light as it passed cleanly through the air and eventually impacted with the man's flesh. Lorenor struck at about the man's mid-section carefully aiming to dissect him into two clean pieces.

A shrill scream of terror filled the night as the man screamed. The sound sent pleasure flowing up and down the mutant's spine. He had won. Lorenor cleanly cut the man in half, a burst of hot blood spraying everywhere like a fountain. The two halves fell to the ground, the man still holding his blade. Lorenor walked over towards the man's body. The man a terrified look on his face, even as his entrails spilled out on the ground. He howled with agony. Lorenor smiled behind the mask, watching his pain for a long moment. Then, he acted again. He struck the man in the chest cleanly with his sword, ending his life.

Deciding that the battle was over, Lorenor could sense the stares of his enemies from the dark. They are afraid of me... Lorenor thought grimly as he walked out of there with his prize, the Old Man's head.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

There were no further incidents on his way back to the Cathedral. With the leader of the enemy gone, Lorenor would face no more challenges. Only a lunatic would bar Lorenor's progress now. He thought back to his companions that were fallen during this particular expedition. Lorenor would always think of Y'var Flagune as his superior officer. Regardless of the fact that the man currently awaited judgment in The After. Confident that the Thayne would guide Flagune to his appropriate resting place, the mutant had faith in N'Jal that he would be rewarded for a life of indentured servitude to the Cathedral.

Holding the sack with The Old Man's head in it, Lorenor tightened his grip around the cloth. He held the sword that he stole from The Old Man as well, walking with his prizes. Many hungry eyes were surrounding the mutant as he made his way towards The Cathedral. The mutant ignored the sensation, confident in his skill during his long tenure on Althanas. In his prime, the mutant knew there was still adequate room for growth. Lorenor walked with the confidence of a seasoned veteran. His glowing eyes were locked ahead of him, pose and demeanor were upright.

The mutant placed a hand on the grip of one of his swords should any challengers arise from out of the dark. Lorenor saw asylum of The Cathedral just ahead. With a grim expression on his face, the mutant prepared to seal the deed. There would be anarchy after this in Salvar, and The Cathedral would reign triumphant. Several of the Church guards were waiting for Lorenor to escort home to the current leaders of The Cathedral. Wolf was waiting for the delivery of the package. Lorenor greeted the guards casually, his eyes fiercely observing his allies. He knew a few of the guards, and did not recognize some of the others. The Church was a vast, multi-faceted organization.

"Lord Lorenor. What news strikes the hour?" The highest ranking officer asked of the mutant.

"The deed is done. Here." Lorenor showed them the sack containing the head of The Old Man. "There were casualties however..." The mutant began to explain.

Waving his hand towards the general direction of the mutant, as if to cut him off from his current train of thought, the ranking officer had a stiff, regal demeanor.

"A matter has occurred Lorenor. You must consult with Lord Wolf at once. This concern must be dealt with immediately. The Lord Wolf will explain all the details. Where is Herr, Flagune?" The guard suddenly asked.

"No longer with the living I am afraid." Lorenor began. "He was killed by a coward. I did not get to find out the man's name, but I dispatched him before coming here."

"Very well. Bring that matter up with Lord Wolf. Come with me Lorenor. It is time."

"By your command."

***

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The halls of The Cathedral surrounded the mutant now. Shadow, elusive servants of the cloth lay hidden in The Living Dark. By this point in his career, the mutant had obtained enough knowledge and power that he understood that these men were there. Invisible to the naked eye. The elite warriors and professionals of The Cathedral. Lorenor's boots echoed across The Grand Hall, a red carpet lurked beneath his feet embroidered with gold. Lorenor walked over towards the meeting chambers of The Cathedral admiring the minor details of the building's expanse. It was a multi-tiered structure not too different from The Citadel in Corone. Lorenor wondered how the ancients were capable of building such magnificent wonders of the world without the knowledge of modern-day technology. As the mutant walked, he took time to notice the various suits of armour that were worn by ancient members of The Cathedral's guards. Each suit was made of various types of materials, damascus, prevalida, and so on. Elegant and masterwork in quality, the suits were priceless.

Looking up for a moment, the mutant noticed the large chandeliers that hung on chains overhead. The Cathedral was well lit which created a certain ambiance in the chamber. Not liking bright light too much, the mutant was thankful for the mask for it shielded his eyes. He walked past the general Cathedral area which contained numerous rows and columns of pews. In that area were statue representations of Saint Denebriel and her followers, depicted in their full glory. The mighty marble statue of Denebriel lurked at the far end of the large prayer chamber. Her eyes seemed to observe Lorenor quite carefully. Her head surrounded by a hand-crafted halo of sorts.

When Lorenor finally reached the audience chamber, the mutant looked around one last time. The ranking officer of the guards motioned for the mutant to enter the chamber. There was a single door made out of oak that did not have any particular markings. However, two suits of armour were visible on either side of the door. Lorenor could feel presences inside of the room, including one very powerful presence. The mutant was familiar with that presence, as he had encountered her on another occasion.

He opened the door, it was unlocked. Then, he was surprised to see several individuals talking within the large ante-chamber. The full assembly of the clergy was in attendance, as was a certain women. A very powerful certain woman. Once he realized who he was looking at, the mutant knelt down begrudgingly. He dared not look The Lady directly in her eyes due to what he was and what she was. An ordained Saint, and most important, an embodiment of one of the Celestials. It was an immediate clash between The Glorious Light and The Living Dark. Lorenor knelt there for a long moment until he was addressed.

Lorenor recognized several members of the clergy, and he also recognized his fellow Assassin that worked alongside him during the mission of the hour. For some strange reason, the mutant was not feeling pain or agony at the presence of Saint Denebriel. Lorenor half expected to be smitten by The Glorious Light at any moment, and it never happened.

"Rise, Child of N'Jal." Lorenor did as commanded when the woman spoke. "Do you have the package that was ordered of you?"

"I have the had of Rolund Gomman." Lorenor said grimly. He handed Saint Denebriel the sack with The Old Man's head in it. The mutant took pleasure in the fact that The Prime Minister of Salvar had just fallen by his hands. His own two hands. It was a dangerous work, but someone had to do it to destroy the last remnants of Iorlan and his indentured servants. "There were casualties in the mission however. We lost many good men today."

"But we have gained an important asset. You currently have obtained the rank of an Elite Assassin. It is my personal reward to you for proving your worth to the clergy." Saint Denebriel said, her piercing blue eyes were beautiful. She had long, flowing blond hair that was radiant. Her allure and beauty was completely flawless. Every aspect of her physical vessel was perfectly formed. From the curve of her bosom to the shape of her hips. She wore elegant robes that were partially see-through revealing some of the nipple that crowned either region of her bosom. She smiled softly, and placed a hand on Lorenor's shoulder. "To Lorenor I bestow this rank. Let him forever onward be known as a Professional of the Cathedral. May your adventures always prove successful. Let me have the head of Rolund Gomman, a most worthy sacrifice to my people." Lorenor removed The Prime Minister's head from the cloth sack and handed it to Saint Denebriel. There were several audible gasps in the chamber when the head, with its terrified expression was revealed.

"By The Thayne." Lorenor heard Jonas Lund said. His eyes were locked on the head of The Prime Minister. "How have you done this task Lord Lorenor?" Jonas Lund asked. "Do you realize what this will mean to Salvar? We can make a play right for the throne itself..."

"Or eliminate it all together and place The Cathedral as the sole organization that governs Salvar." Ivan Wolf said calmly realizing the gravity of the situation. "Either way. Lorenor. You have done a great service to The Cathedral. Name your reward. We shall grant you with any rite you ask."

Hearing those bold words from Ivan Wolf, Lorenor felt his heart flutter for a moment. Then, realizing his place in this world, he looked at Saint Denebriel with a nod. As if reading his thoughts, she nodded back.

"Clergymen of the Cloth. Please leave myself and Lorenor alone for a few moments. I wish a word with him."

Jonas Lund spoke on behalf of his fellows. "As your will my lady."

***

[Mutant_Lorenor]

"What think you, Lorenor?" The woman suddenly asked, causing the mutant to address her with his full attention. "Do you think my Followers are true?" She asked.

Lorenor put his hand to his chin for a long moment. His eyes were closed, and a shadow befell his face. Looking down to the floor, the mutant pondered the two questions quite carefully. Apparently, the Cathedral's master had doubts about the loyalty of her Followers. Doubts logically meant that there was a weakness in the organization someplace. Perhaps even traitors. Thinking on this hurt the mutant's head despite his intellectual capacity. With his eyes open once again, the mutant had an answer-that-was-not really an answer.

"I think..." Lorenor began. "I think that your Followers are mostly true. But it is possible that there could be traitors in out midst. Our leader fell during the war that took place not too long ago. And the current ruler of Salvar is in exile. Salvar has no leadership right now. The time has come for our rule." Lorenor said. But then he continued. "Normally though, we should be enemies. Why have you accepted me as I am my Lady?" Lorenor was curious about her true intentions with him.

"You can go places most of my Agents cannot. You are made of a different fiber than most of my other Followers. It helps that you follow N'Jal. You can remind your Brothers and Sisters of their place within the world." She continued. "Furthermore, despite your allegiances, you have proven your worth and your trust time and time again. I trust that you shall continue to prove your worth and your honour to me in days not yet passed."

Lorenor turned away from the beautiful woman. Her light was much too bright for the mutant. "So I see. I will continue to serve to the best of my capacity. But know this, Saint. If I have to choose between you and N'Jal, you must already know where my allegiances will be." His face was grim. "Despite that, I will continue to serve my blade with honour to you." Feeling a strange feeling in his gut, the mutant looked at the woman for a long while after that. She had a strange sort of smile on her face.

"Your heart is true, Lorenor. I cannot doubt your sincerity. Normally, I would have words about how a Sheppard leads even the most wayward of his flock. But they would not apply to you...do you understand what I mean? " When Lorenor nodded she continued. "Lorenor. There is a task you must do. It is the final test you must past in order to obtain true power within the fold of the cloth. Complete this task for me, and you shall become one of The Hands of Denebriel. But before this, you must know what task I have for you..."

FIN.

***

∼Spoils∼

001-Prime Minister Rolund Gomman∼After many hardships, trials, and tribulations, Lorenor has become a highly skilled Blade of the Cathedral. With his current mission, the mutant has gone after a certain individual known simply as the "Old Man." When the identity was revealed of this certain individual, it was revealed that Lorenor has slain the Prime Minister of Salvar, thus, striking a serious blow to Iorlan and his followers. Lorenor has offered up the head of Rolund Gomman to gain the favor of Denebriel. He has been well-rewarded for his troubles.

Note: I would like for this spoil to make canon.

002-Title∼Lorenor has become a "Blade of Denebriel." Earning himself all rights and privileges befitting a professional Assassin of the Cathedral.

003- Mask∼A masterwork piece of art. The mask completely covers Lorenor's head and is a symbol of Lorenor's current standing within the Sway. The mask is a completely plain design hiding all of the features of the mutant. It is enchanted to hide Lorenor's aura of darkness, and is also enchanted to hide Lorenor's scent of death.

[MetalDrago]

STORY

Continuity (5/10) ~ I had a good feeling about why you were here this time, however, I had no idea who you assassinated before, so next time, put a little history in as to why this particular thread is number two or three or four.

Setting (7/10) ~ This time, you kept from using too many things that would confuse people while still giving a good grasp of what things looked, sounded, and smelled like. Overall, pretty good.

Pacing (6/10) ~ You kept the pace pretty solid, and Quests are your specialty, so this is no surprise. However, do try and remember that not everything needs to happen all at once. Spacing out between the Wraiths and the ultimate killing of your mark would have improved this score.

CHARACTER ~.

Dialogue (5/10) ~ You did decent, but I didn’t get a very good feel for why you ended up saying some of the things you did. The conversation with Denebriel wasn’t all that bad, but the simplistic way most of the assassin’s talked made them sound like what they were: cannon-fodder NPCs. Try and make them into their own person when you’re RPing them, and this score will improve.

Action (6/10) ~ As usual, you kept the actions of the people around you, and those of Lorenor, pretty believable. However, there are some things I just didn’t get. I’d prefer it if you explained your actions a little better and rely on it a little more to tell who your character is.

Persona (5/10) ~ I got a decent feel for Lorenor, but I felt I could have found out more about his psyche than what you explained. Keep in mind that you’re playing an insane monster of a man whose sole drive is creating chaos. Expand on that as far as his personality and you’ll really make the mutant ghoul jump off the page.

WRITING STYLE ~

Mechanics (3/10) ~ Commas, commas, commas, where they really didn’t need to be. You broke your sentences into commas in places where it made no sense to have them. Also be wary of when you accidentally name your character differently than his real name… You called Lorenor “Jotham”, the name of another one of your characters. Overall, proofread and try to remember who you’re playing as.

Technique (6/10) ~ As usual, you use dark foreshadowing and some other advanced techniques in your writing, though not to the greatest effect in some places. Practice with them and come up with some ways to really imbue your writing with that dark foreboding tone you’re looking for, and you’ll definitely do much better.

Clarity (5/10) ~ Usually clear, but sometimes… it just made me reread and I still wouldn’t get it. Mostly this was when you broke your sentences in places they didn’t need to be broken, though there was also that time you called Lorenor “Jotham”. That really did mess up the clarity.

Wild Card (3/10) ~ Overall, an interesting read, but nothing too standout, not to mention I know you’re capable of more than this. Don’t be disheartened, and try again.

Mutant Lorenor Scores a 45
Mutant Lorenor gains 2750 EXP and 200 GP

Spoils approved. Canon, Taskmienster will be taking care of answering that for you.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.

Lorenor hits level 9!