SirArtemis
06-14-15, 09:56 PM
The summer had begun to settle in across Salvar and Artemis had taken the opportunity to enjoy the relatively warmer climate. The ground outside the city of Knife's Edge was damp and the air still smelled of the rains, the skies only beginning to lighten as the gray clouds overhead rode the wind toward their next target. The young warrior left the city's walls and went toward a favorite spot of his down the river the city was built upon toward the open seas. His magical boots kept him from sinking into the mud and the sun beamed down gently embracing the warrior like a tentative lover's kisses.
"Ah, it's nice to get away from the city's stench," the man said, taking a rich inhale through the nose with closed eyes. "Sometimes it feels like an entire season is just one incredibly long day."
"And the day's work never seems to end either," a melodious voice added behind him.
Artemis didn't even turn around. He knew he was being followed. After so many years fighting and the things the warrior had been through, there was an unfortunately small volume of things left that could surprise him. "Hello Yen, good to see you?" The question was rhetorical, and she knew it; just as he knew she was smiling without looking at her. As he turned, his assumption was correct, and beneath the white hood stood a beautiful woman with flowing brown curls and eyes to match, the slight peak of the front of her hood barely covering her eyes.
"A pleasure as always, Artie. I'm sorry to interrupt."
"No you aren't," he said with a tired smile. "Who is it this time?"
Yen gasped, "Why Artie, couldn't I just be here to see your handsome self?" She smiled slyly, hand on her heart. She wore an outfit that spoke to her guild and station, with the traditional hood being the final mark. Her bracer hid a blade within, though few knew of its existence; most who saw it would die soon after. The rest was a mix of various pieces of fine clothing interwoven into a well made set of leather armor, intricately stitched.
Artemis stepped forward, placing his hands on her hips and placing his face just inches from hers. "I don't know, you tell me." He stared her dead in the eye, his expression blank and unreadable. Though she didn't know it, his eyes had shifted into the infrared spectrum, and he watched as her body became hotter through her extremities. He felt her breath on his face, and only then, he let go and stepped away to allow her to recover.
"Ahem," she said while stifling a stammer. "Well, not this time at least. I have your next target."
"Will the targets ever end?" Artemis sighed, running a hand through his short dark hair as it immediately fell back into place. His eyes shone a bright and vibrant blue, contrasting heavily with his scruffy dark beard and hair. His skin, despite living mostly in the Salvar climate, seemed to always retain a bit of pigment like that of an islander.
"We can only pray as much. You know that we are outnumbered, and it seems they never cease to have new recruits and pawns to press their agenda. They are like a rodent infestation that we cannot quell."
"Who is it this time?"
"Lukas Zabel," she answered.
"The head of the southern branch of the Salvarian Bank? I'm surprised he even matters. Their financial operations have been so limited and their reputation tainted."
"Yes, but growing, as are his clientele. His operations have been a cover-up for a darker and deeper money market meant to supply the Templar initiative within the city. Unfortunately, his skills and resources have reached a level that will prove dangerous if we allow him to continue. We have to stop his operations before that happens." As she finished, she reached into a pack she carried, pulling out a bracer similar to the one she wore. "Also, take this," she said with a toss.
Artemis caught the item and immediately tossed it back. "I've told you before, I don't need any blades. Mine work just fine."
"You must be discreet."
"Have I ever not been?"
"This is important! You are an asset we can't afford to lose and your skills are unrivaled, as are your natural... talents."
The side of Artemis' lips curled up in a sly grin at the comment. "Just tell me the particulars."
"We know little," she admitted. "His work hours are structured and predictable, and we've had him followed carefully on some occasions. Unfortunately, despite our precautions, our scouts were spotted and he has become suspicious, so we've pulled the tails. We need you to stay invisible. There's a chapel not a hundred meters from the city that will allow you an eagle's view while staying discreet. Scale the building, find your target, tail him, and take him out. Do not be seen, and if you can, make it look like an accident as best you can. I know that may be difficult, but it will serve us. And one more thing..." she hesitated, "be careful."
He scoffed at the last bit. Her concern was poorly placed. Artemis was one of the most talented assassins the city had seen, though nobody knew it. The magical items he wore and the sentient bow he wielded created the most synergetic set of tools most assassins could imagine. His movements were silent, his sentient bow specialized, his movements perfected, and his eyes could see that which was impossible to most. Artemis was not just a man, he was a weapon himself, and woe to those who stood in his path.
"Consider it done," he finished. With a quick nod, the woman turned away and left the man in peace. As she did, the warrior looked up to the sky watching the last bit of gray leave the sky, a vast ocean of blue being all that remained. Just then, he noticed an eagle cross the sky, its call reaching his ears over the gentle song of the river.
"It's going to be a beautiful day," he said under his breath. "But the night..." He let the thought fall away and continued his walk along the river. Work would come later. For now, he was going to enjoy the summer winds. After all, you could never know when your time would be up.
Assassin's Creed
Rayleigh
06-19-15, 12:52 PM
Lobby
Hardhat
Search and Destroy
Spetsnaz
M1ndB3nd3r
xXxFrailFeathersxXx
TobiasSalt
-------------
Delta
MidgetMechanic
xBrokenBriarheartx
venivedivincent
SnowScope
The pounding of her heart in her ears nearly drowned out the barrage of bullets overheard. Rayleigh pressed herself closer to the enormous concrete tube, hands trembling as she clutched her revolver to her chest. The other player had kept her pinned down for longer than she would care to admit, spraying her hiding place at the first sign of movement.
“I need help!” Her plea was met with radio silence, and she let flow a string of curses. “Seriously, I can’t move! I-”
A high-pitched zap interrupted her, and a strange electricity suddenly filled the air, lifting the hair on her arms.
venivedivincent killed M1ndB3nd3r
Seconds later, Vincent was seated beside her.
“You called?” he drawled, doing his best to make a sweeping bow while sitting.
“Yeah, about twelve times,” the girl bit back. “Where is everyone?”
“Busy. They detonated the first bomb.”
Her grip on her weapon tightened. “Damn it. They shouldn’t have been able to get close! They’re playing with a bot! How could you have let that happen?”
Vincent dropped his electric cane just long enough to hold up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t blame me. Maddy was supposed to be watching it.”
She sighed, and then, “where is Maddy now?”
The scholar shrugged. “She’ll turn up.”
“That doesn’t help us.”
Vincent frowned slightly as he looked his friend over. Crimson heated her freckled face as it flushed with frustration, and her lips were drawn in a tight line. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her dark tactical vest. “Relax,” he murmured. “We’ve got this.” He retrieved his cane, and used it to motion to the stack of pallets nearby. “The bomb spot is right there. We’re in the perfect position.”
“I just hate camping here,” the brunette answered, shaking her head. “We are sitting ducks.” Her voice trailed as her emerald eyes widened. “And I think I hear something.”
Vincent grinned. It was a mischievous look that immediately put Rayleigh on alert. “I got this.” One hand worked the pocket of his tactical vest, tearing it open with the sharp rip of velcro. He fished around for a moment, before presenting a small grenade to his teammate. “Picked this up off the bot,” he announced proudly, like a child showing his mother the dead rodent he found while playing outside.
Though she wore a look of disgust, Ray finally nodded. “If you think you know how to use it.”
“Of course I do. I read all about it.” With a soft click, Vince yanked the pin from the explosive. “Frag out!” With a mighty backwards toss, he sent his new toy sailing over their rough bunker.
“Why did you say that?”
Vincent shrugged. “I don’t know. It felt right. Did I get him?”
“No,” came a feminine voice in his ear, “but I did.”
A single, sharp crack of a sniper rifle split the air, followed by soft echos that bounced off of the tall buildings surrounding them.
SnowScope killed TobiasSalt
“Aw right!” Vincent cried, punching the air excitedly. A quick check of his HUD revealed who the pair had been rescued from. “Whoa, Alyssa, you shot Tobes. Wasn’t that weird?”
A few seconds of silence passed before their teammate answered. “Actually, it's a bit satisfying.”
“I hear ya,” Rayleigh agreed, her features finally softening. “Good to have you back, eye in the sky.”
“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” The brunette could hear the joy in her friend’s tone. For what it was worth, Alyssa Snow was having a wonderful time. “I had to relocate.”
“TobiasSalt.” Vincent read the mercenary’s gamer tag aloud. “Was that a typo?”
There was a soft peal of laughter in his ear. “Probably. I know he hates this game anyway.”
“Well,” the blonde boy continued, “I think it suits him.”
“Don’t start celebrating yet,” Alyssa cautioned suddenly, her voice growing serious once more. “I see something coming up behind you. It’s airborne.” She muttered under her breath, before adding, “whatever it is, it’s flying low. I can’t get a good shot off from here.”
“I got it,” Ray announced, lifting her revolver high above her head.
Alyssa, who had helped Rayleigh build the weapon, observed from her post atop a nearby crane. “Excellent choice. I’ll tell you when the thing is directly on top of you, alright? Ready?”
With a practiced flick of her finger, Ray thumbed the safety off.
“Now!”
The gun gave a great shudder in her hand, belching a basketball sized fireball that met the target with a fiery flourish.
MidgetMechanic killed xXxFrailFeathersxXx
“I’m all for shooting mercenaries,” came a solemn voice from Ray’s earpiece, “but I feel like there are some serious consequences for shooting down an angel.”
The mechanic shrugged. “I already have a bit of experience with Hell.” Hooded figures, flames, and a hulking demon danced in her mind, and though she did her best to feign ease, her hand shook as she holstered her weapon.
Vincent, on the other hand, was bouncing with excitement. “Just two minutes left! They don’t have a chance!”
“Yeah,” Alyssa agreed. “Good job, team. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll-”
”TheBoss has entered the game.”
The administrative announcement left the threesome in stunned silence. Then, all at once, the radio waves were filled with chaos.
“What the hell?” Vincent barked.
“Why is he here?” Rayleigh screamed.
Alyssa’s voice shook, ragged breaths separating each word. “Not good, not good, not-”
TheBoss killed SnowScope
Ray screamed. “We have to go!” The mousy woman climbed clumsily to her feet, combat boots slipping pitifully on the gravel. “He’s coming with the bomb.”
Vince also stood. When the girl’s gaze found his, she immediately knew she would be going on alone. “I’ll go after him,” the scholar whispered. His gloved hand reached out to squeeze her arm. “It is time for me to be a hero. You saved my life once. Let me return the favor.”
With that, Vincent scampered around their concrete shield. She stared after him, eyes narrowed with mixed parts horror, annoyance, and admiration.
TheBoss killed venivedivincent
That was fast. Rayleigh turned on her heel, making a mad dash toward a nearby stack of barrels. What she found on the other side stopped her in her tracks.
Madison Freebird was crouched over Ioder’s dead body, still smouldering from the inferno that had ended his life. Blue spores spilled from her outstretched palms and fed directly into the fallen angel’s nose and mouth.
“Maddy!” Ray squealed. “What are you doing?”
The raven-haired Plaguesinger glanced up. Her blue eyes danced excitedly, and her lips curled into a wide smile before she replied, simply, “science.”
“Well stop it. We have to go.”
“Wait! I’m almost done!” She turned back to her test subject, only to find that the body had disappeared. Her face fell. “Shoot. I can never quite finish up before they respawn.”
And then, Maddy’s body was no longer there either. It crumpled into a gory pile that was thrown a few feet backward with the booming crack of a shotgun at close range.
TheBoss killed xBrokenBriarheartx
Slowly, she turned around. He stood directly behind her, the gun he had plucked from the bot’s dead body leveled between her eyes.
“You shouldn’t even be here,” Rayleigh hissed, her sweaty palm finding her revolver’s sleek grip.
But the man merely grinned down at her, his green eyes flashing, his spiked black hair hardly moving in the cold wind that whipped around them.
--------------------------------------
The tiny room was filled with the crack of a gun being fired. Only inches from their faces, Rayleigh’s television screen burst into flames.
“Maddy!” Vincent screamed, scrambling backwards across the mechanic’s bed. “Why did you shoot the TV?”
Maddy, who still held Ray’s smoking gun in her hand, frowned. “He was about to place the bomb. We were going to lose.”
“That’s not any excuse to shoot the TV!” Alyssa scolded from the rocking chair, dropping her controler to the ground.
“What was that?” Tobias barked. He spilled into Ray’s bedroom from the room down the hall, flanked closely by Logan and Ioder.
Vincent pointed an accusing finger at Maddy. “She shot the TV.” His finger, however, quickly swung toward the small party gathered in Ray’s doorway. “But why was he invited? He’s not even in Tarot! Did you forget that this is a Tarot sleepover?”
Max Dirks flashed the scholar the thumbs up from his place in the hallway.
Rayleigh, who had remained silent through the whole ordeal, heaved a heavy sigh.
A hand in a black glove found her shoulder. “Its okay, Ray,” Maddy piped, her mood improving slightly. “You can fix it anyway, right?”
MW3. All characters used with permission from their creators.
A Good Point is Hard to Find
A cheery glow shone from a high window in the run-down manor. It was like a beacon in the night, the only guiding light for miles, calling the lost to safety from the woods. But that's the thing about the lost, I guess. As oft as not, they don't want to be found. The four lost creeping from the darkness surely didn't come in seek of salvation, did they?
No, no we didn't.
The aged woman sang quietly as she puttered around her sitting room, brightly lit by many lanterns. The many paintings covering the walls could nearly make her forget the growing Salvar night chill beyond the walls of her home. The wine helped though, indeed. With a sigh of finality, she patted her hair as the wrinkled and lined face stared back from the looking glass. How had she grown so old? She didn't feel old, but after all little Khorkevic was showing grey at his temples, so she must be old then.
"Ah well, the eye beholds beauty even when the beholder is a shriveled wretch, darling."
With a rueful chuckle, she crossed the wide, open room with its sparse furnishings to the bird cage and began feeding the pigeon. Her lone companion in that large house, a pigeon, her library, and the various exotic gifts of art she'd accumulated over the decades. Perhaps she should have spent her youth entertaining guests rather than visiting curio displays...
A sudden pounding from below startled her from her thoughts.
"Oh my, someone at the door, Karjinka. In this cold? And with a storm coming, no less! Oh, quit cooing in that tone, I'll see them off." She wrapped herself in a shawl against the chill and took a brightly burning candle stick as she left the bird and her collection behind.
In the foyer, she reassured herself that the bolt was locked before raising her voice to speak through the heavy oak door.
"Yes? May I help you?"
After the slightest of pauses, a raised voice echoed back to her, a man's. Or more likely a boy's, judging by the timbre of it.
"Good eve', madam. I'm sorry to trouble you so late, but I'm in dire need. It's me friend, you see. His horse was spooked by some o' tha' nasty thunder comin' and threw him, threw him right off. I'm afraid his leg's broke, madam, and there's no other house around. I wonder might you have a fancy mage scry ball or the like so I might send for aid from the nearest town?"
She screwed her lips in concern but was shaking her head before he finished speaking.
"No, no dear boy I'm sorry, no mages here nor their regalia, I'm very sorry. There's a settlement a few miles south if you follow the Wolf Road, it has an inn for the caravans returning to Knife's Edge to stop over at. If you just press on, you might reach it."
The boy's voice returned through the door, pleading now.
"Miss, my friend, I can't move him and it's just the two of us, and I'm afraid he'll die, he will. Could we weather the storm here and I'll ride for help at first light? I - WE - would be in your eternal debt, mum."
She almost reached for the latch then, but something nagged at her. A story...a vague report of a hermetic scholar and his wife, assaulted in their own home, he beaten savagely and she...she..
The woman shook her head resolutely. "I'm terribly sorry, I can't do it. South, head south. May the Ethereal Sway return and guide you safely."
The reply was long in coming, so long she was beginning to wonder if the boy had left, when he spoke.
"...I understand, mum. This late hour, and so isolated a spot. Can't be too careful, with all the bandits and worse roaming the wastes. I'll find help, it'll be alright....Thank you madam. I'm sorry to have troubled you."
And with that, the boy's voice was gone. Concerned, but even more so - troubled, the woman wrapped her shawl tight and ascended the stairs to her brightly lit room and set at the vanity table. Finally, she pulled open the drawer and withdrew a scroll from many, checked the heading and stood. Extending a hand, she carefully recited the lines scrawled across the scroll. The surface of the mirror shimmered like water and an officious looking man's bald visage materialized with a polite smile.
"Ah, Aeromancer Vlandra! To what do I owe the honor of your summons?"
She gave him a chiding eye. "Just Lady now, I'm retired, remember?"
"Ah, of course, of course. The Church has a long memory. I admit, sometimes the old memories are so ingrained that-"
"Yes, yes, Brother Prochek. But enough of that. I had the strangest visitor, just a few minutes ago. I wouldn't have wasted the scroll, but it reminded me of a burglary I heard about, not a fortnight back. One involving a rape? They mentioned a stranger claiming a broken leg, thrown from a horse?"
The visage in the mirror frowned deeper and deeper as she spoke. "Go on.."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, the spinster hag won't letting us in the gate. Where's her sense of piety, her dedication to the Sway!? What happened to hospitality for fellow Salvarians, and on a night like this, too. Shameful."
He sounded genuinely appalled. So much so, that I - Jolok, that is - couldn't hold my tongue.
"You were planning to rob her, Brother Alexey."
I - I mean, Jolok - regretted saying anything when Alexey turned his cold, blue eyes on me and smiled. It made Jolok shudder, when he smiled like that.
"Well, right you are, Brother Gaunt. Right you are. Well, nothing for it but the climb, my brother. Be a good lad and fetch Snorezy."
From the way he said it, you could think he was politely asking, like a waiter in a fancy hall asking if you want second helpings. At least, from what I've heard of fancy eating halls. But he wasn't asking. Alexey never asked, he just....
I turned my back and scurried from the manor wall to the wood-line. Snorri, or Snorezy as he was called on account of his brain being so loudly asleep most of the time, was busy chuckling oafishly over a clay travelling flagon of milk, when I found them.
"Snorez- I mean, Brother Snorri, Alexey needs us. Spinster didn't fall for the door knock."
The Skavian looked from his milk to me with his small pig eyes, his lower lip drooping in just that way that shows a man's just not there enough to mind both a brain and an expression, before he looked to the last of our oh-so-merry band.
"Bruh-, Brother Groff, Alexey need us. Bitch didn't let him in." And he hammered the stopper into his clay jug with a single slap from that big, heavy hand, and set off across the short open ground to the manor. It's worth noting that he did so with exaggerated careful steps and bent nearly double. Very similar to a hill giant hiding among dwarves, and just as dangerous to laugh at.
Gregovski - or "Groff", which was much easier for Snorezy to say - spat through his front teeth in that disgusting way that only experienced spitters can manage without coming away with a chin covered in saliva, and clapped my shoulder.
"Come along, Gaunt. Bitch won't loot herself."
I - Jolok, I mean - looked up at the black clouds rolling in to hide the moon and sighed at the rumble of thunder - it sounded reproachful.
"I know....I know."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
"Brother Snorezy, you and Brother Gaunt boost me up. I'll get a handhold, up into the window and then quick as you know, be at the door to let you in, oh my brothers. Smart builders, having no windows on the first floor. Must have all sorts of the shiney and shine-worthy inside, just like Groff said, oh my brothers."
Jolok scracthed his left arm nervously at the high window as Alexei spoke, ever chipper, ever unperturbed. Snorezy was already moving into position at the wall base and was pawing at his bandaged hand with the other fretfully.
Groff called over, "Don't worry at it, Brother Snorri! It won't heal if you keep making it bleed again."
The strike came suddenly, like a bent branch ready to lash your face as you flee the torches and pitchforks of a small village. Groff collapsed in a heap and groaned, holding his head in his hands as Alexey spun the stout walking cane up into the crook of his arm.
"Now, Brother Groff, good little brother Gregovski, quiet is the key. Don't go alerting the victim-to-be."
That voice. That damnable, infuriating, snide, perfectly polite voice. Jolok hated that voice. He would happily crack Alexey's head open and drain the blood out just to never hear him speak again.
He was interrupted from his daydreaming - or is it just a fool's lament, so late in the night? - by the looming figure of Snorri. He was quite close and quite unhappy, to judge from the simple frown peeking through his beard. He was just finishing telling Alexey that he should not be smacking his friends and that really he should not be cutting their hands either, and...
Jolok, or Brother Gaunt as his compatriots called him, busied himself helping Groff up and found his battered road hat to replace on his head. Anything to escape the smile he could feel being given to Snorri behind him. Still, he couldn't be quite sure that Groff was speaking or just making noises, but it sounded like he muttered "finished."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
As the silhouette of Alexey vanished into the window, the other three outlaws moved around toward the front of the manor to wait. Groff had a nice swell to his jaw by now. By which to say, he looked like a bruised piece of fruit left to rot. But the half of his mouth not swollen was smiling. It almost put Jolok in mind of Alexey.
Almost.
Still, Jolok pretended that his shiver was from the chill on the wind and the light rain that had started to fall.
Minutes passed in silence but for Snorri's insufferable loud breathing. Jolok had almost made up his mind to tell the oaf to keep his air to himself when Groff spoke.
"Gaunt, when Alexey comes out, don't try nuthin'. Snorri will handle it. Just be ready to take the goods."
Puzzling, and cryptic. But then, not much in the world wasn't cryptic or puzzling, in my experience. Yes, I might as well confess, I'm "Brother Gaunt." Anyways, it was the sort of vaguery that doesn't quite confound. After all - Snorri was only capable of handling a few tasks. But he did so with utmost relish. I gulped.
"What are you going to do? Alexey didn't like it the last time you tried to make a plan without him-"
"BROTHER Alexey," Groff interjected with a thick slice of sarcasm, "has spent quite long enough giving orders. Look at us, we never messed a job yet and still we barely have two coins to rub together. It's time for a change in guidance, we think."
I felt ice in my veins. Fear, the sort that trickles through you and makes you want to piss, just like sitting by a rock dripping water. They were both looking at me. Waiting for something from me. Or maybe waiting to do something to me. I realized I was scratching at my left arm again, where the tattoos hidden under my sleeve end. I forced my arm to my side, and forced what felt like the worst smile a liar ever hauled out.
"What ever you say, Groff. I don't need this trouble."
Groff nodded and Snorri settled back, and I inwardly let my breath release. At least my trousers were still dry. Groff was speaking again.
"Last job, when we was left tending the geezer while that sod got his fun in, it weren't right. Weren't RIGHT, Gaunt."
I nodded agreement. That, I can agree with. It wasn't right. I tried to help the man, best I could in such a state anyway. Whispered for him to shut his eyes. Don't look. Don't watch. Of course, it was Groff that kept kicking his ribs and yelling at him to open his eyes. Oh, and he was still talking, apparently.
"...do all the work, and then not even get a chance to get my fun in, just go running off into the night. It's unfair, is what it is."
"Hyuh-hyuh, unfair." Always helpful, is Snorri.
I kept nodding, but my mind was in trouble now. Dragged back to the memory, one of the many, many memories I really don't like to recall. Alexey, with the shears. Snorri, big dumb Snorzey, holding that poor woman's arms behind her back, saying "snip-snip, snip-snip" as the scissors cut away the cloth. But worst of all, as he "got his fun in", Alexey's singing. Singing.
I'm singing in the snow,
I'm singing in the snow,
What a wonderful feeling
I'm happy, you know.
The tune echoed in the mind, so upbeat, so cheerful, so...wrong. Jolok shook his head to clear it, hopeless that it might be for good this time. Maybe....maybe the three of them - well the other two, could take care of Alexey. I'm not suicidal, after all. Not yet.
The minutes passed, ten turned into fifteen, and fifteen inched toward twenty while the three bandits crouched against the wall, trying to stay out of the worst of the rain. Groff pulled his hat lower, I had long since raised the hood of my coat. Trying to hide my self from my self as much as the wet, if I'm honest. Snorri just stared at the sky with his mouth open, huffing and gargling.
Suddenly, brightness spilled out into the night, making me blink even though the rectangle of of light wasn't hitting me. The door was open. Without a word, we rose and trotted along the wall towards the glow. A beacon calling the lost. A flame, drawing the moths. I didn't even notice Alexey until he almost on top of Groff. When he spoke, he sounded amused. But his words made my blood turn cold.
"Let's get a move on, my brothers. Madam called for a witch hunter, she did. The militia's on it's way from that trade post yon south-ron road. Old spinster's dead, we gotta have our way out of here."
Dead. She didn't simply sit down and die, I don't believe that for a second. Brother Alexey'd killed her. Murdered her. And for what? Some brass dishes, perhaps a bit of silver?
"Where's the loots, Bruh-Brother Uh-Uh-Alexey?" Leave it to Snorri to keep mind on the important matters.
Alexey waved his hand dismissively and held his hand out, beckoning Groff to give him back the cane. I was only half aware by now. The other half was seeing and old woman lying in her own blood. An old man screaming silently from the ground, mouth and eyes open so wide you could swear something was going to break.
I was hearing singing.
"Oh, there wasn't anything to take from her immediate domicile, just paintings and small statues of phallaces. Odd, really. But never let anyone tell you a member can't make for a good clubbing!" And he winked, and he chuckled as he gestured urgently for his cane. "But really, we need to get gone. Look! Spots of fire, that's torches. And listen..that's hoof, not thunder that rolls up the road."
And he was right. And I didn't care. He didn't even take anything. Nothing. Nothing but a life. What's the point? What's the point? What is the POINT?
My head was spinning. The swirl of a thousand thoughts from different angles. No loot meant no money meant no food and nothing to save. Thunder rolling over, or was it the gallop of horses? A woman's quiet sobbing, dignified even...even then. What's the point? Why run, to do this again? Ruin another life, and for nothing? Or die? Or live with the cold fear in my gut of blue eyes and a wide smile watching me? What next? What's the point? Why not fall to my knees and await justice?
And then the lightning flashed, and Alexey's face was tattooed onto my vision like the Ward on my skin. A smile stretched across his mouth, trying to give birth to a grin. Eyes shining with boyish glee, carefree even with the baying hounds and shouts closing in on the wind. That's when I felt my arm start to itch warmly, and suddenly all the shouts and pictures and memories in my head were cut off. I lowered me head within the hood and stepped closer.
It turns out I needn't have bothered. As Groff held out the cane and our first-among-equals wrapped his hand around it, I saw noticed Snorri swing something squat and blunt. It shattered against the Salvarian demon's face in an explosion of white liquid and dark clay - the milk jug. I've always remembered that lesson. Snorri; dim, dumb, Snorzey taught me that anything is a weapon, if you just stop trying to be clever and focus on hitting really hard instead. I guess I should thank him, if I ever see him again. Right before I put a bolt between his eyes. Maybe two, he always was too dumb to die.
Well, Alexey screamed something fierce as he fell to his face, holding his nose and screaming about being blind. The other two started running. Groff called back something about building strong bones, Snorri just laughed like a choking bear. A regular circus troupe, those two.
Me, I walked closer and knelt to inspect Alexey. Shards of pottery at cut him up a slight bit. The bridge of his nose was busted open, bleeding. He screamed all the while about being blind. It smelled awful. It turns out, Snorri was always drinking mare's milk mixed with hard liquor and...I don't want to say urine, but it smelled foul enough to be.
"Brother, little brother Gaunt sir, brother sir, help me up, we gotta get outta here. The law's on our step and wants to throw us in the gallows for sure if they get their hooks in us."
I watched the blood. I looked at his nose. I heard him singing. I spoke hastily. "You said a witch hunter, why one of them?"
Even now, he responded like we were at some dinner party at the Castle of Knife's Edge and not in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the night, a crime scene and angry villagers closing in.
"Oh, the spinster was a wizard. Not a very good one, but she claimed there was a Church hunter staying at the inn south who was sent up. Better to escape from none than wait for one, my little brother. Let's go, there's no time."
I nodded. "No time." Then I grabbed the back of his leg - in my left hand, of course. An ember glow shone from beneath my coat sleeve as I put all my fear and loathing into a single word, hissed into his ear.
"Hemorrhage!"
Then he screamed fresh, and now he clutched at his face and his leg both. He wouldn't be running. Not walking on his own neither, for a while. I held my hand over his face. The orange glow from my tattoos made it easy to see his features as I drew a measure of blood from the wound into the air and quickly traced a pentagram over his face. His blood sizzled as it seared into his skin, leaving a red-inked tattoo that instantly was swelling as if branded. He didn't say anything. I think he had passed out.
I was out of time. The militia's torches bobbed from the road scarcely fifty yards away, the first men were rounding the bend of trees. They'd be on us in just a minute. I stood over my erstwhile companion and summoned my resolve. Then, as the embers of the Blood Ward flared, I shot a series of crimson energy pulses in the general direction of our valiant pursuers. One, two, another. I heard shouts of surprise as the dim red glows flashed on impact.
"Another" in this case meant "the last" as I'd mostly fatigued myself. The fine control of drawing the pentagram, mostly. The pentagram has always fascinated me. I've learned that it has no power. None, no arcane significance, nor demonic nor any other magical application. Yet everyone instantly associates it with the dark arts. It is truly a testament to the power of misunderstanding. Another lesson, i suppose.
I took off into the darkness of the raging storm, sprinting for all I was worth. I hope I didn't hit any of the villagers with my volley. I don't think I did. I prefer to believe I didn't. I have to. They would find their outlaw, after witnessing a sorcerer's attack with their own eyes, with a pentagram burnt into his face with red ink. All the Witch Hunters of the Ethereal Sway needed to take authority of a prisoner. Worse than outright death, I hear. I hope so, anyway.
I didn't know where Groff and Snorezy had gone,and I didn't care. I needed to cross all of Salvar and get back east. East, and away from this forsaken land.
Away from the singing.
A Clockwork Orange
Read AFTER finishing please.I experimented with switching narrative voice from first to third person in this to express dissonance. I wasn't merely being sloppy and forgetting what form I was writing in ;). That said, I don't know if it works well or is more jarring to read. If it took me pointing out the reason to make it come across, the experiment failed.
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