Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Sisterhood of Shadow

A project I was pretty happy with until I ended up hitting a wall; gonna post up what I have, but just remember I'll probably be scrapping this for something better organised.

Sisterhood of Shadow pt.1

Esuriel walked swiftly through the streets, her staff tapping the ground in time with her footsteps, causing an eerie echo to follow her every other step.  With her hood pulled deeply over her face, she looked like just another traveler - Just as well, she thought, I don't feel like knocking some heads right now.  With the staff firmly held in her right hand, her signet ring was displayed fully for any observers, so even opportunistic thieves would look away from her. At a slight metre and a half, she looked defenseless, but locals knew that her staff - a near 2 metre monstrosity with ornate scroll-work adorning the reflective metal caps - were given only to those who demonstrated extreme skill; any non-locals would learn that fact in short order, should they attempt anything.

Soon, Esuriel came across her target: a slight little tavern called The Iron Princess.  She found herself wondering how long this inn had been there, since there hasn't been a princess in the world in centuries.  Shaking the thought out of her head, she used the staff to push open the freely swinging door.  Eyes quickly sizing up the room, and finding no threats, she strode quickly to the far corner, the only one shrouded in shadow.  Leaning her staff against the wall, Esuriel took a chair from which she could easily keep an eye on everything that happened.  A wench came over with a mug of ale, and Esuriel traded the mug for a silver mark.  The busty beauty curtsied and sashayed away, not knowing her wiles wouldn't work on her most recent customer.  Still, Esuriel eyed her with half an eye.  If I wasn't on the job, I might be tempted to sample, Esuriel thought with a slight giggle.

A few moments after she came in, another figure strode in.  Standing easily as tall as her staff, the newcomer threw back his hood, revealing a face that wouldn't be out of its depth in the middle of a ballroom.  His scarlet eyes surveyed the room just as Esuriel's did, and he came toward her corner exactly as she did moments earlier.  He didn't wait for an introduction before he took up the seat across from her.  Waiting for no argument, he gulped and started, his deep voice brought down to a level that wouldn't allow evesdropping, "I take it you are my contact."

Esuriel, took a draught on her ale before responding, her rich, luxurient tone allowing her lilting voice to carry, "I am she."

At her conversational tone, the man flinched, "Shouldn't we keep our voices down milo...milady?"

Esuriel giggled like a girl, "Surely you are not having second thoughts, Lord Raviel?  All in this tavern know my profession, no matter how hard you try and hide it.  Now, on with it."

Esuriel noticed he was sweating somewhat as he wiped his face with an already damp towel before replying, "Very well.  My employer is having...issues with a former partner of hers.  She would prefer it if he would no longer trouble her."

Esuriel finished off her ale before signaling for another.  She waited until the barmaid left her mug before returning her attention to her client, "So you would like me to remove her former partner from the equation."  It wasn't a question.

Raviel nodded, and Esuriel continued, "I require half the payment up front and the rest within an hour of contract completion.  Is that a problem?"

In answer, Raviel pulled a large purse from under his cloak and set it down with a thunk on the table.  Esuriel retrieved it and opened it before starting to count it.  Raviel looked horrified, "Do you not trust me?"

Esuriel didn't respond, absorbed with counting.  The seconds counted on, making Raviel uncomfortable, before she finished counting, "Trust is not an issue in this business, as you should heed.  All that matters is the contract."

Quickly hiding the purse, Esuriel gathered her staff and said in a threatening tone, "Failure to present the rest of the payment upon contract completion is considered a breach of contract, and that would make me take a personal contract out on you and your employer.  Is that understood?"

Raviel dabbed his forehead with the rag again and nodded quickly.  With her terms accepted, Esuriel tramped out of the tavern, but it was a long time coming before Raviel relaxed.

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An hour later, Esuriel was in her work outfit.  Gone was the heavy cloak and signet ring, and the staff was secured to her back.  Shrouded in darkness, Esuriel had dulled the metal of her weapons and staff with paint to prevent them from reflecting light during her contract.  Her hair was severely braided to prevent anyone from grabbing it, and she wore a mask wrapped tightly around her head.  Her entire body was wrapped fiercely with fabric, squishing all her feminine curves against her body, giving her a male look.

Satisfied she had watched her target well enough, she pushed off from the roof she perched on, seeming to fly over the massive wall surrounding the Lord Maskiel's estate.  A normal assassin wouldn't be able to do that; the fall would be fatal.  But Esuriel wasn't a normal assassin; she was a Sister of the Shadow.  As she fell into the estate she whispered the words she had been taught years ago, and her fall became slower and slower until she rolled and stood up on the air, her weight supported entirely by darkness.  With each step, the darkness built up before her and dissipated behind her.  Breaking into a run, Esuriel quickly cross the massive estate grounds, a mere 4 metres above the guards - but never once did they look up.  Unfortunate, Esuriel thought with a quiet chuckle, They'll be plaguing another master with their ineptitude soon enough.

Esuriel quickly came up to a balcony with the doors to it thrown open.  Shaking her head with sorrow - not for her target, mind you, but for how easy the contract is turning out to be - she stepped lightly on the balcony and strode into the room.  On the massive four-poster bed, her target slumbered.  Pulling one of her expendable blades, she crept forward and got her first, and only, look on the face of Lord Maskiel.  It was quite unremarkable, even though, or maybe because, he was one of the ruling council.

Shrugging helplessly she leaned forward and slit his throat quickly.  Pressing her hand sharply to his mouth, his eyes flew open, startling Esuriel with their deep azure pits.  As she watched the light leave his eyes, she was shuddering; those eyes were the ones she saw every night when she fell asleep.  When he was dead, she stumbled back and leaned against the wall, suddenly out of breath.  Trying to catch it, the door flew open and there were guards standing in the candlelight thrown in from the hallway.  Yelling an alarum, the guards drew their swords and charged her.  Pleased at the coming diversion, she quickly exited to the balcony and pulled her staff.  Three guards rushed her, hoping to overwhelm her.  Instead it played into her hand; closing her eyes and finding her calm in seconds, she fought by sound.  She quickly deflected the simultaneous strikes and crushed one guard's kneecap before slamming the staff against his helm.  A sickening crack followed, which Esuriel easily interpretted as a broken neck.

Esuriel quickly lost herself in the battle.  Block, parry, counterstrike, riposte.  Parry, block, strike.  The battle became simple as she lost herself to the battlelust that all of the Sisterhood fought to control.  In this moment, on this contract, Esuriel welcomed the battlelust like an old lover, letting the euphoria wash over her as she fought 2, 3, 6 guards simultaneously.  She didn't care to pull her strikes, each kill bathing her tormented soul in righteous fire.  But the pain was welcomed if it dulled the realization of her recent contract.

Soon, everyone in the room was dead save her.  Her suit was torn in a dozen spots, her pale white skin a stark contrast to the black of her outfit, both spattered with blood that wasn't hers.  She stood in the room surrounded by the corpses for some time before she realised she was crying.  No other contract had ever affected her like that.  But then, no other contract had her kill her own father.  Turning from the destruction, she fled the room, tears pouring from her eyes as she ran across the city to her safe house.

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