Be Still Thy Beating Heart

[Vorin]

Radasanth's air was crisp that night. A cool breeze ran across the rooftops, the kind that makes hair stand on end. The endless sky above was cloudless, marred only by the wisps of a few cooking fires. It was early evening, the time when few citizens had gone to sleep. Instead the streets below teamed with a life they knew in day. Merchants called out their wares in a deep throated cry that came from the belly, some even had to be retrained for the "zeal" they had for selling their goods. On the whole it seemed like a normal day, but high above a creature stood watching it all.

Vorin looked down from his seat for only a second before lifting his head towards the sky. In immortality it is amazing just how much time someone has to waste by just thinking. He was dreadfully pale, reseambling a corpse that had died a sickly death. The vampire had not fed despite the adundance of prey down below. He was deep in thought, his eyes not even looking at the sky anymore but past it. It had been nearly a month since he had joined that coven under Iago. "Heh. Joined is not the word for it. More like enticed into service with the promises of power and riches I've yet to recieve." The wizened coven master had not spoken to the noble since his first mission was a sucsess. Until he was contacted again Vorin had only time to kill, time which he spent in Corone's capital. "Radasanth had been my home in life. I suppose it's only natural that in death I return. But even his first week in the city was troubling, old memories resurfaced from months before.

"Letho Ravenheart." Vorin grimaced with the thought. "My battle with him had been the first time in years I suffered humiliation and regret. No more of that." The noble's hands balled into fists, he could just feel the pressure from his nails under his glove. The vampire stood up fast but still managed to keep a noble grace. His yellow jacket, another gift from the coven, caught the moonlight in just the right way. With his pale skin and bright jacket he seemed almost like a beacon on that rooftop, a shining contrast the the soot of the streets down below. And that is what he wanted.

"Zagan had better come through for me." Whispered Vorin at the night. His distaste for the man had grown with a second meeting. A year before the vampire had met the tavern owner. Vorin took an interest in the young Zagan right away, enjoying the stories of the kind of customers and oddities you would only find at an ale house. "A favor he asked me, a favor he soon regretted. When he found out I was a vampire he used me right away to further his own ambitions. Tavern owners nearby died from a strage 'plague'. He was far less charming then when we first caught eyes. And when I ask for a favor in return, a year later, I have to put the fear of the gods into him to make him comply. No, he'd best not fail me." Vorin convinved Zagan to find him an assassin, the tavern owner graciously "offered" to pay the bill. All the noble did had to do was wait on the rooftop for the hired assassin, explaining who he wanted dead.

"I'm too pale right now, too hungry." The snob rubbed his skin nervously, trying his best to warm his cold flesh. The slightest rattle could be heard from behind and Vorin knew his mercenary had come. Not even looking behind, he began his prepared speech.

"You're a bit late. Let's just hope you're good enough for the task."

[Witchblade]

“I didn’t know I was on a timer, maybe next time I’ll give a flying fuck.”

So this was it. This was the guy who wanted her hired; this was guy looking for an assassin. The halfling was not impressed and it was no wonder why he needed someone else to do his dirty work for him, he was weaker than a new born kitten, vampire or not.


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“You looking for a job?”

Witch slowly raised her eyes from the table and looked at the human before her. He seemed a little out of sorts and his heart was beating rather quickly, he also kept fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous about something, perhaps talking to her.

“What kind of job?”

Why she had even bothered to ask she’d never know. She should have just ignored him or let her hood fall back a reveal her face and the grim expression carved into its surface. Perhaps then he would have turned tail and ran for his life. Humans were odd creatures and what would she need with a job for any of them, she had no need for money and he could offer her nothing.

“An assassination,”

The tavern was filled with people making plenty of noise, their conversation, or the one side of it that could be heard by normal people, would not be picked up. Not that’d she care either way.

“I’m looking—”

“You need an able bodied warrior to take someone out for you and took one look at me and thought I could help you?”

“Ahh, well, yes…”

Witch smirked beneath the darkness of her hood and excited the ions around her hand, causing them to burst into a blue flames that charred the table and set her face awash in light. The tavern owner gasped slightly and took a step back from her, fear radiating off him, her instincts calling for her to attack like the animal she was. But she reined them in and closed her fist, extinguishing the fire. A gentle heat remained on her skin, the only sign to her that her magic had ever been there. Of course, there was a small char in the wood of the table, but she didn’t care about that.

“S-so, are you interested?”

Did she have anything better to do? The halfling could do back to Concordia forest and do the same thing she did every night and every day, or she could take a small mission, make some money and entertain herself for a few hours. Perhaps, even longer.

“How much?”

The money was nothing to her, but humans valued it and she knew any real assassin would request it.

“One thousand gold.”

The halfling leaned back in her chair and said nothing, watching the man.

“Two thousand, half now and half when the job is finished.”

“Reasonable, I accept the job.”

The human gave a veritable sigh of relief and relaxed slightly before her, “You’re to meet the person hiring you on the roof of the weapon’s shop.”

So this human was not responsible for hiring her. He was just the middleman; perhaps the other person would have more of a backbone. Standing up, Witch grabbed the rucksack at her feet and followed the human to the bar’s counter where he handed her the money. Opening her rucksack she tossed it inside and hear a very clear call from an annoyed dragon at having something dropped on his head. The tavern owner raised his brows but said nothing and Witch turned and left the establishment.


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Witch crossed her arms under her chest and waited. She knew nothing about this job other than the fact that it involved her killing someone. The tavern owner had not been very forthcoming with information, but considering he was a middleman in all of this she was not surprised. This vampire was probably holding all the cards in his hands.

Using her stealth and speed, Witch moved across the small expanse between them without a sound. The distance was easy to cover and her soft steps upon the darkened roof of this building made not a single noise. She was now standing behind and slightly to the side of the vampire.

[Walter]

"Be a good boy and deliver this message for me, beggar." Vorin explained condescendingly. He was referring to the haggard-looking man leaning against a tree nearby. The two were a distance from the gates to Radasanth, conferring in the middle of the night. Jon looked down at the note that the vampire passed to him.

"Don't talk down t'me, ass." Jon grunted. "Whass this s'posed t'be?"

"Nothing you could comprehend the meaning of, I assure you. All you are is a dirt-shoveller. Get this to the Corone Ranger station, assuming you can even find it." Vorin sneered. The immortal had been around Corone long enough to know where it was, and even knew a route or two that would take him directly there. But Jon Walter was never really the type to take orders.

"Why sh'd I?" he asked. Vorin merely rolled his eyes and tried to explain as though to a child.

"Iago's influence runs far deeper than you can conceive. All I have to do is mention you in passing, and you will be held at his mercy for the rest of your eternal damnation."

The explanation had a deep impact on Jon, and a flurry of thoughts and emotions crossed his face simultaneously. Grumbling, he turned to face the path he would be taking. Beginning to walk, Jon called back, "That ain't goan work f'rever. Iago can't hold me."

Vorin merely thought to himself as his manservant turned tail and set to work. "You're more right than you know, bastard-child..."

----

The Corone Rangers had received their letter the following day. Within the week, Vorin's plans had been set into action. And now Jon found himself walking through the heart of Radasanth, looking for a man amongst the Rangers by the name of Letho Ravenheart. Reluctantly he continued to follow Vorin's orders.

Of course, there were several things that would impede the immortal's progress no matter how determined he may or may not have been. The most prominent of these was an open tavern. Spotting one of the several dozen bars spread across the capital, Jon checked his pocket money for a moment before barging through the wooden doors and buying just enough to earn himself a good buzz.

Cash exchanges were simple, and Vorin had supplied him with a little "petty allowance." Money was money in Jon's opinion, and so he spent it despite it belonging to the bastard that he hated nearly as much as Iago, the wizened vampire leader of the Coven.

Rampant alcoholism sometimes plagued Jon, but it was a fortunate day. He found himself able to moderate his intake enough to remember when to stop. With a face slightly red, Jon Walter stepped out of the tavern again. He proceeded to stumble his way through the city toward the Ranger Headquarters, where Letho would be found.

[Letho]

It was all malarkey, but Letho answered the summons in order to ease several heads that he didn’t give a damn about and one pretty little head that meant the world to him. A week ago, the official headquarters of the Corone Rangers received an anonymous tip in which they were warned of an assassination attempt of impressive magnitude. Enclosed in the notes wasn’t the identity of the bold perpetrator, but the exact names and ranks of Government officials – law enforcers and pencil pushers alike – seemed like enough of a warning sign for The Assembly. Especially given the fact that one of their congregation, Grand Marshal Aidan Johnston, was also on the mysterious list of possible targets.

Marshal Letho Ravenheart, safely secluded in middle-of-nothing town further South, usually paid little heed to these bogus attempts of the underground to rattle the cage. So even though his name was written on that piece of paper and the brass sent an urgent message to the Marshal to join them in Radasanth for an official meeting, Letho refused to come. He was too cocky, too self-assured, too presumptuous to take this warning seriously. If they wanted a piece of him, they could try and get it every day of the week.

But Myrhia didn’t take this as heedlessly as the Marshal. No matter how much he tried to ease her mind and assure her that this was nothing but another harmless scheme, the redhead insisted otherwise. At first, she called it a hunch, then, when he took it in stride and shrugged her of with a rather condescending smirk, she insisted that it was her female intuition. Letho wasn’t sure exactly how this fabled women’s perk worked, but he was rather certain that, unlike his gut, it couldn’t predict bad things that stood on the horizon. Finally, when her subtle nudges failed to force him to respond to the summons, she took a firm stand and insisted for them to at least check it out. She even managed to conjure a small, harmless lie, telling the Marshal that she had to do some shopping in Radasanth anyways. Letho knew quite well they were well stocked for at least a month or two, but ultimately acceded to her will mostly because he saw no harm in checking it out. It would be a complete waste of time, but it was her desire and he never failed to cater to those.

So instead of sending a messenger with a courteous apology for not being able to attend to their bullshit meeting, Marshal Letho Ravenheart and the occasional Deputy, Myrhianna Bastillien, made their way north to the Corone capitol. Even though they could probably get lodgings in the Rangers headquarters, the military barracks weren’t exactly the type of environment that an infatuated couple had in mind. So they took a room in the Traveler’s Refuge inn, a cozy, out-of-way kind of place that the scallywags failed to notice and the prissy nobles found beneath them. This left the proprietor of the Refuge with somewhat of a respectable clientele and his establishment reflected that. With halls tastily (but not meretriciously) decorated, rooms somewhere between casual modesty and discreet glamour and trustworthy personnel, it seemed like a perfect little corner in which the pair could hide from the bustle of the metropolis.

“Why can’t I go with you, Letho?” Myrhia spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed and pouting semi-seriously. “I’ll even wear a badge and you can say I’m your deputy.”

The Marshal smiled somewhat heartily, but otherwise he seemed untouched by her plea as he buttoned up his dark-green shirt, tucking it into his denim pants. “Trust me, you’re better off lazing around here and molesting room service. Even if they let you to be present at the meeting – which I doubt they will – you’d have to listen hours of bureaucratic nonsense before they all decided it was just a prank. Wouldn’t resting in a comfy bed or shopping be a better way to pass time?”

“I don’t know.” she replied, fiddling with the coin sack he left her for shopping. “It’s kinda boring without you.”

Letho allowed another one of his not-so-callous smirks, but though tempted to yield and take her with him, he decided otherwise. He strapped the adamantine sword to his back, leaving the Lawmaker in the corner of the room. Though a formidable weapon, it wasn’t something he wanted to bring in a meeting room. “Would it be less boring if I told you that you’re in for a surprise once I get back?”

Those were the magic words. Myrhia loved surprised, especially the kind that Letho had in store for her. He could always read her hidden desires with immaculate accuracy and there was no reason for her to suspect that it would be different this time around. She jumped up from the bed and threw her arms around him, giving him a lengthy, smiling kiss. “Alright. But hurry back.”

Truth be told, Letho had no idea what the surprise would be. So while he ambled through the packed streets of Radasanth, his head was wrapped around the possible presents he could buy her on his way back. He was certain that she would squeal in joy at pretty much whatever he got her – Myrhia was, after all, probably the most modest creature he had ever seen – but he had no desire to do a halfassed job at picking up the right thing. An idea was slowly forming in his head; a dinner in one of those fancy restaurants in the Government District and Myrhia in an evening gown that he would purchase on his way back to the inn. It brought a smile to his face and with that smile Letho approached the Rangers’ headquarters.

[Vorin]

"He's good." Mused the vampire as his hired assassin moved closer. Vorin quickly spun lightly on his heels only to catch a vision he had not expected. "He's a she..." Though it was dark and the assassin was cloaked, the noble could tell at once it was a woman who now stood a little behind him. She had pale skin and crimson eyes, a demonic look that somehow enhanced her mysterious beauty. Her clothes were rather tight, and Vorin recieved the impression that she was well armed on top of and underneath them.

"I'll be forthcoming with you. I had expected something with a little more..." The vampire paused for a second as he nibbled the tip of his thumb in thought. "Something with a little more manhood." Snorted Vorin snidley. Normally he would be all too polite to a lady, but criminals were a different matter. "I'm part of the school of thought that women have two fuctions. To be on your arm at social events or nativity. Be that as it may I'm sure Zagan picked you for some reason other than your womanly endowments. Let's get down to business."

The snob stood tall and proud and eyed the hired killer watchfully. He knew she would not like him, but that was not why he had her hired. "I am Vorin Káno." He exclaimed. Ever since the vampire had joined the Ia'baz coven, he had reverted back to using he true name without the faux formality of "Le Sereg". "I had Zagan hire you for one reason my dear. I have an old score to settle, and I'm a lover not a fighter." The noble almost smiled for a second, but kept it repressed for appearance. Those were the same words he had uttered to Ravenheart during their battle and he felt they had special signifigance tonight. "There's a man by the name of Letho Ravenheart. I won't bore you with the details of why I want him dead, just know that I do want him dead." Vorin grabbed his right forearm and began spinning it a little, working away the stress in tiny cracks of bone. "My servant will lead him to an old farm house just outside of Radasanth's gates. It's large and still houses much wheat and grain and the like. You'll know your target when you see him, he's regal, powerful, and may just be one of the strongest men on Althanas. You'll be there before they arrive, leap from the shadows and do whatever is needed to end his life. I trust you're strong enough for this?" Inquired Vorin though he did not expect an answer.

"I want him to suffer. And when the deed is done bring any severed limb or body part, eye or ear to me. I'll be north of the city towards the Jagged mountains, a few hours before dawn. I enjoy the late night's sky. Now that you know more about your mission, do you still think you can accomplish it?" Asked the vampire, who was stretching out his tired limbs a little. Off in the distance heavy horse hooves clanged, drawing his attention else where.

[Witchblade]

Pitiful little vampire, and she couldn’t believe he actually had the nerve to insult her when she could tear him limb from limb so easily and enjoy every second and every scream too. Oh, she’d make Letho Ravenheart’s death painful, not because he asked her to but because she enjoyed it. She liked the look of the surprise on people’s faces as she slowly killed them and they having no power to stop or prevent her. Ahh, it was always so marvellous. Perhaps tonight would be a good night after all, despite the fact that she had to deal with a deranged, weak little vampire. Things could shape up to be far more interesting soon enough.

“I’m still standing here, aren’t I?”

He was cocky and arrogant for someone who was a ‘lover not a fighter’.

“Next time you lose a battle to someone, perhaps you should scrap your tattered remains of pride off the ground and work on your own strength, instead of relying on the strength of others to do your dirty work for you, little kitten.”

Turning on her heel, the halfling made way off the roof and towards her destination, a farmhouse, where she was to ambush someone and end his life. The idea that he may be one of the strongest men on Althanas did not give her pause, only thought. She would have to wait and see just how strong he was before she could give credent to a claim like that, he was probably strong, but one of the most strongest on Althanas, perhaps not.

It took the halfling over a half hour to make her way to the farmhouse and she’d beat the manservant and this Letho Ravenheart there. Looking around, she picked the easier place to conceal herself, the trees. They weren’t everywhere on the property but a few healthy ones littered the ground, some in clumps creating deeper shadows against an already darkened backdrop. These branches were perfect for her to hide in. Spending so much of her time in forests, Witch knew how to manoeuvre around without making much sound.

She also knew patience and how to wait and not move a muscle to give away her position.

Taking her rucksack off, Witch carefully leaned it against the tree trunk. If a surprise attack didn’t work on the human and she had to engage in combat, the last thing she wanted was the sleeping bundle inside to get hurt. She left her cloak on though to help conceal her, after all she had quite a few weapons on her with quite a few shiny, silver edges and she didn’t want to the light to catch any of them and reveal her position to this person.

Now the fun was going to begin, all she had to do was wait.