Hired Help

[Storm Veritas]

The good parties always seem to start in here.

El’inssring was always bouncing with energy, and the mighty tavern was easily large enough to disguise his actual identity. Had it really only been a few weeks since he had gone on a killing spree in this very place? It didn’t seem possible. Here they were all merry, skipping about and spilling beers and wines. The boards that lined the room had that scent fermented deep within them, a sort of deep-encrusted odor that never left the room. Here at night, with people smiling and laughing, the smell was completely alone. With a deep breath, Storm wondered what the place must be like in the morning.

Bathroom probably reeks of piss and puke. Terrible place. F*cking awful town.

He wanted no more part of the place, but the money was phenomenal. He couldn’t help himself, and although a piece of him tugged to get a fresh start elsewhere, another stronger element lured him in. When he was approached shortly after his last job, he was given very strict, simple instructions.

Go in to the trees, make the hit, get out. Make it quiet, if possible.

There were few places left for him on Althanas, however, and for a man of such infamous deeds Storm had plotted long and hard as to how he could accomplish such a task. His face was known through Corone, feared through Radasanth, and had grown a bit in infamy here as well. He had grown his normally close-shorn face to a handsome moustache and beard, kept close-cropped but nonetheless disguising his striking jawline. He felt he looked at least ten years older, but many mistook his clean-cut composure for twenty one as it was. A bit more grizzled wouldn’t hurt.

But you’re still “the human” here. Remember that and keep your head down.

So as they danced and frolicked about him, his wide and happy eyes moved slickly about the crowd. He could slosh his glass and hear the hollow ting of it off another tall frosted, but he wasn’t drunk. He was hunting, even here. The thin-boned elves couldn’t hold their liquor, and after three tall drinks they presumed him drunk anyway. They wouldn’t fathom that he was just rounding into form, like a knife being rubbed straight against a hard stone.

And then he caught her form within his vision. She was smooth, sleek, and athletic, but her lithe muscles and sexy curves still held a more round form than the darker skinned elves here. Her eyes were keen, her smile pouty and delicious, as she spoke to some poor fool. She was perfect, he considered, and he cared less and less about the skill she was regaled to have.

Even if she can’t shoot worth a shit, I’ll hire her. I’m sure she’ll be of some use, some how.

Standing, he polished off his glass and ordered two more. A bit more alcohol in her blood stream would make the negotiations flow so much more smoothly.

[Via'za]

"Jal ditronw, Dorn kyorl dos gajak D'razzym." The night had been fun so far, the sleek Drow girl had almost three drinks downed now, another and she would begin to get to a level of drunk she didn't often reach. The man had paid her the fifty gold for cleaning up the tavern after the night before's party. The putrid smell in the bathroom almost made her puke, even. There was an assortment of colors waiting for her, even, from pink to nearly black slop near the toilet seats. Just thinking about it again made Via'za shudder.

That was this morning and tonight was tonight, and none of that mattered. The tavern had a lively feel to it despite the killings a few weeks ago that Via'za had heard about from some of the locals. A human, they said but wouldn't give her a name. The small Drow shot glass that Via'za had just finished got shattered on the floor as a tall, overly drunk Drow hit it with his arm.

Vel'bol natha suliss'urn uss. Via'za chuckled to herself.

Via'za decided she would have fun tonight and let loose, but without dancing. Enough dancing jobs had come through and she needed a change, although it was her fault really, going to a tavern for a job and being a beautiful Drow just begged for a dancing job. Perhaps something new was in order, hopefully something a bit more exhilarating. Her bow had been taken but something, anything would be more fun than dancing night after night, men drooling and their jaws dropping over the thought of touching her body according to their desires.

Another drink came, this time it wasn't the same thing she usually ordered, the waitress muttered to her, "Dal nindel rivvil xuil l' jindurn lauske, gaer." She pointed to a man with trim, sleek facial hair and dark hair atop his head to match it. He wasn't quite as ugly as most human males she had encountered recently, almost good looking despite the pale, almost flushed out skin, when compared to a Drow. He was sitting, twisting his glass and letting the liquid swoosh sloppily back and forth.

Dorn inbal ulu alu lu' bel'la ukta whol ol nin... fridj vel'bol Usstan ssinssrinil...

Via'za rose from her table and walked over almost getting hit by many of Drow dancing and spilling their various drinks around the tavern. She sat down near the bearded human, looking him straight in the eyes. He looked fairly happy despite his inactivity and apparent searching of the room.

"Well now, I absolutely love getting drinks from humans, may I ask the occasion?" Via'za spoke with her accented and slightly sarcastic tone she very much loved to use when conversing in tradespeak.

The dark skinned beauty crossed her arms and let her elbows rest on the table, still looking at the man's face and wondering whether or not he would prove to give her any excitement that didn't involve showing him her agile and lithe body.

Here's some translations from the Drow:

"I'll see you later, D'razzym"

What a graceful one.

"From the human with the face hair, there."

I'll have to go and thank him for it now... just what I wanted...

[Storm Veritas]

It was her. He was correct in the initial assessment – the dark skinned elfin woman was the person he was sent for. Something about those enchanting, crimson pools that she had that guided her vision was distinctly unique. The color in itself wasn’t enough, but she held a certain intensity with her gaze. It wasn’t hard or arrogant as much as many other of these aloof imbeciles, but it carried its own air of intelligence and focus.

There you are. Don’t look like much, though.

He smiled and offered her a thin glass, preferring himself a drink from the thick stein. The ales here were fairly weak – not unlike the people, in his estimation – and carrying the large glass seemed to win him respect amongst the more brutish of the folks.

“You… you must be the alluring Via’za. Your reputation precedes you, my dear.”

He smiled, a bright and beaming grin that had won over many big hearts and small brains. His hand moved to the back of her chair, avoiding contact but moving up to engage in a bit of personal discussion. He wanted to be welcoming, but polite, and of course kept his eyes open. If she were as good as he was told, it would be wise to watch out for some move on her part. Taking in the head of Storm Veritas would fetch a pretty penny in districts reaching far and wide across Althanas.

“I trust that your presence indicated your interested in a little work. I can assure you that while your hands may get dirty, it should be simple enough for a woman of your means.”

Another smile. He wasn’t sure how things had gotten this far in the first place. At first, Alerar was an escape. It wasn’t long before trouble sought him out, and resisting was too strong. Before he knew it, he had taken a young rogue under his wing, teaching him the art of assassination.

And that wasn’t enough.

Hell, it’s never f*cking enough…

He had been contracted to make a second hit, and the money was too alluring. He also knew that he couldn’t do it himself, or perhaps that the risk would be too great. Here in the tavern he was everyman, but in the trees, where the last murder had transpired… he was something else.

He was a monster. He dare not show up, not show his face, but didn’t know this Via’za either. Money talked, he supposed, but how was he supposed to put his faith in a woman that came as a recommendation of a near-stranger?

It was a roll of the dice, he figured. These jobs always were.

[Via'za]

"Yes, I am the alluring Via'za. Although I must wonder how you know of me, perhaps you've seen my father's troupe?" The girl looked around, everyone else seemed to be having 'real' fun. This man was instead observing and buying the Drowess drinks.

"I am interested in work although I must admit, I've never gotten my hands dirtier than maiming a man. I'm not sure what you intend but I'll hear you out."

Was it possible he meant killing? It was more than likely, by his facial expressions he wasn't actually the nice man he seemed to be. It wasn't so much the look as a feeling that Via'za could feel down her back. The chill that something was wrong or horribly out of place. She couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, just a feeling. The girl shifted slightly in her seat, not out of fear or worry, it was simply uncomfortable to be sitting with a human.

Her initial assessment of the man had been wrong, she figured he would have been a rather annoying human male like the ones she usually came across. Instead, this man was a thinker and he knew what to say to make someone feel good about themselves, Via'za was now feeling the effects.

"Since you know my name, may I ask yours? You should be honored, it isn't often that I ask a human's name!" The Drowess chuckled at her own small joke whether it was funny or not.

In fact, the Drow girl really never was that funny and her remarks usually got her into some sort of trouble or another. She simply never learned to stop, her father had been the same way. It was a trade off from being in a circus act, being silly. Had she been born into a different life, perhaps she wouldn't be this way. That wasn't the case however and there was no going back. Despite the fact that she missed her father dearly, she wouldn't go back. He had wanted her to leave that life and she would honor his request.

((Can't think of much else, sorry for the wait! And the length... bleh.))

[Storm Veritas]

Storm did his best to disguise his smile as he listened to the beautiful girl, trying not to tip his hand too much. She was excellent. She asked questions, but nothing too pointed. She was charming. She appeared skilled. They were all things that could be used to get her in, get her close, get her there. Should she strike from a distance, it would make getting away all the more simple. None could believe a tender little thing like this would be savage, and although oxymoronical characters were commonplace upon Althanas, a great looking woman still stopped logic in its tracks.

He softly, slowly, and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It was a feather light touch – careful not to be mistaken for a come on. He wouldn’t have this girl be frightened away, but needed to usher her away. The pub was still bustling and hopping, and the drunken elf to the left of Veritas was looking on wearily.

Oh, what the f*ck… this imbecile must see me hitting on his “girl”. Can’t let this get ugly, can’t let this get out of control.

“Another drink, my friend?” Storm turned with Via’za in his arm, extending his left hand with a few coins in them. A flicker of white raced across his irises, a sight that made the heavily intoxicated patron blink hard. He accepted the coins and turned to his seat as Veritas marched to the exit, the lovely dame in tow.

The girl had a question or two unanswered, but she would have to leave the loud white noise of El’inssring into the background for an answer.

“Storm Veritash…” he whispered through pursed lips as the cool air licked his face. A flick from his thumb lit the cigarette he was suckling, and he smiled at her again. It was good to be outside the bar. The deep breath took in that sweet, tender taste, and he felt his hands steady and heartrate settle.

“I’m sorry for the lack of disclosure, but there are too many ears in that house.” He flicked an ash away as he breathed a thin plume of smoke away from her. The moonlight hit her eyes such that she looked positively radiant. “This work won’t be dangerous, but it’s not something I can handle. If I told you my name in there, they’d break the shackles out around my wrists, for sure.”

He rubbed his thumb across his chin, liking the feeling of thick beard growing in. He felt more like a man now, like so many commonfolk on Corone. If they could see him now…

If they could see you now, they’d string the noose and get the torches, just like these folks if you bothered to f*cking shave.

“Your job will be a simple elimination of a lone bad man. You will be responsible for infiltration, elimination, evacuation. I can help you out however the hell you like, but I can’t be the trigger man. I’ve got to keep my nose clean a little longer.

“Moreover, should you be successful, there’s a hearty bankroll waiting for you. Of course, there could also be more work, were you so inclined.”

He smiled again, leaning against the stone wall of the pub. He could hear the bustle through the windows, but the noise seemed miles away. Here in the moonlight, he was fixated upon her. She was the enchantress.

[Via'za]

The idea of killing person had crossed Via'za's mind before. More than once, she had even maimed a couple. What she was interested in was how Storm knew who she was and from who he found out. The real question she was burning to ask was not the details of the job, but rather about the human himself. He had no background as far as she was concerned, only that if people knew who he was there would be shackles around his wrists.

I wonder if it'd be a larger reward to turn him in. We'll see.

"A lone bad man, I'm responsible for everything except what I ask of you, and a hearty bankroll." Via'za stared into the man's eyes, the drunkard he had paid off was startled when he looked into his eyes. Yet the Drow woman saw nothing terribly special about them, "These are all rather vague, don't you think, rivvil?"

Vague details probably meant he didn't know all the details himself. That could be a problem for her, but the man she was to eliminate surely had a name, a home, and someone who knew who and where he was. The bad ones always did. The bad ones always had charm too, this one certainly did. Whether he really was bad or not was yet to be seen, she had nothing against him yet.

"Perhaps this lone man is nameless, eh?" The Drowess gave a look that told anyone, drunk or not, she was being sarcastic, "Or maybe no one knows him at all."

This human was being too vague, even if he was just seeing if she were interested. She would hold off on saying yes or no until she heard the exact details, who the man was, what he did, and perhaps even why he did what he did. All of this was important to Via'za, she had morals unlike many people, killers or not.

"And what exactly does a hearty bankroll consist of?"

A few Drow who had walked past glanced and had the look of contempt as they saw the beautiful Drow girl standing with a human, almost whispering, but things were not as they appeared. Hence, none of the passersby bothered to stop and see what was going on. The fresh coal colored girl quit looking into Storm's eyes and instead to the ground and then stepped sideways and turned to lean her back against the wall with Storm.

We'll see, rivvil.

((Sorry for the wait again. :())

[Storm Veritas]

He had her. The way her eyes fluttered, the way her voice tweaked, he knew he had done it. She was interested. People, in his experience, had two reactions to being led boldly into high adventure. The first set of people shivered, shuddered, and skirted away, knowing it best to keep their nose clean and wrists free from the cold hand of steel shackles. The second set of folk got genuinely EXCITED, and reveled a bit at the possibility of increasing their notoriety. This was the key – for cash was terrific, but it was fame that held the trump card upon Althanas.

Sure, she was being sly, and coming off with a cautious tone. That was fine, it didn’t bother him an iota. He had disclosed little, something that happened by no accident. Now that he had a bit of interest, he talked a bit more.

“Well, if I take this as more than a passing interest, then we certainly know quite a good deal more.”

The cool wind slapped him in the face, and his eyes darted about the place. Out here had gotten a little too quiet. Where there were half a dozen patrons previously enjoying smoke breaks, now the two were secluded, only twenty yards from the front door. The lamps about the doorway covered cobbled road that was devoid of elven drunkards.

They must have recognized me. Maybe I’m a bit more famous than I thought.

His beard itched; it was a poor disguise. No matter; it had worked fairly enough to allow him access to the pub, and now quiet to plan. From the interior breast pocket of his coat, his hand rifled a small envelope. He handed it to her, extending an arm around her shoulders. He snapped a finger before her face, his fingertips sparkling white like a dull reading lamp. The snap was unnecessary, but it was a cool effect.

Gotta have the party tricks.

He smiled as he waited for her to open it, knowing precisely what the contents of the note would say.




El’drrick Alialiator – Anysse Det Tel’hiun
11A Ailve Escrine
Fyrtn Saihn Set
Tellis Scintyll

He couldn’t read it for a good God-Damn, but he knew full well she’d understand what had to be done. Her eyes led the way for confirmation of such knowledge.