39th Winter 513 AV
23rd Bell (Approx)
It was pitch black. Dark, cold, the starlight barely breaking through the winter cloud as the woman sent her way through the narrow winding streets. Footsteps almost seemed to glide above, the gentle crunch of the frozen earth beneath her sole in keeping with the clink of the steel upon her person. Her eyes gave a peer out from beneath her hood, her neck clicking as she gave only a careful stare out from her point of vantage - if it could even be called that. Peering around out of the alley she turned her eyes to her target, the worn front door of a ramshackle apartment.
Shoulders rolled, pushing back the numbness of the chill. Perhaps forgoing the cloak was not the best idea in the world, but when swiftness and movement were needed such things had to be put to one side. Much like she had decided to instruct the wolf to stay put and guard. She at least wanted to get back to her place of rest and know she was relatively safe. Cheeks puffed out the air, her hand tapping onto the hilt of the tulwar and then round to the kukri almost in a ritual checking that they were still there and on her person. Knuckles tapped the studded leather, and then she slipped out.
Focusing on keeping her feet light upon the ground she ducked only briefly into the faint glow of light, and then once more into shadow. She pulled at the tulwar hilt, steel grinding out of its sheath the keen edge biting the air. Pressing up against the entrance way she paused, her weight adjusting so her left shoulder pressed against the door. Knees bending she braced herself for a moment, a gentle testing press to see how much force she would need. There was a rock back, eyes narrowing down upon it.
Exhaling softly she remembered her job, the words rattling through her head. She had to go in, break a few things, scare the wit out of a woman and warn her. Warn her that they were coming. Her muscles gave a twitch, a cold mindset trying to fix itself in place. Big, bad, nasty, grim, cruel, lots of shouting and clattering. She sucked in the winter air, her brow creasing as she tried to force what she imagined to be a frightening mindset. This was far from easy. To bring up an intimidating and frightening persona was not exactly the strong point of a more scholarly sort – a cause was needed to act as a stimulant, to force the blood to rise and roar within her veins to make her go wild.
The mercenary braced herself, leaning back from the door. It was time to make a move, time to get this petching task done and dealt with. Once done, perhaps she could steel herself with some liquid courage before crawling into some hole – if anything to hide from the world once more. It was time to get the show on the road. It was sharply she rocked back and then forward, shoulder crashing against the door – loudly and firmly. It repeated, her full weight going into it. It groaned on its hinges, the cheep wood complaining. She backed off, a final full hard shove against it, as it cracked open. Her form went after it, stumbling inwards foot rising to catch herself. The steel came out fully, a forced mean look growing upon her face. Lips parted and a loud bark escaped, ”All right you little petcher!”
23rd Bell (Approx)
It was pitch black. Dark, cold, the starlight barely breaking through the winter cloud as the woman sent her way through the narrow winding streets. Footsteps almost seemed to glide above, the gentle crunch of the frozen earth beneath her sole in keeping with the clink of the steel upon her person. Her eyes gave a peer out from beneath her hood, her neck clicking as she gave only a careful stare out from her point of vantage - if it could even be called that. Peering around out of the alley she turned her eyes to her target, the worn front door of a ramshackle apartment.
Shoulders rolled, pushing back the numbness of the chill. Perhaps forgoing the cloak was not the best idea in the world, but when swiftness and movement were needed such things had to be put to one side. Much like she had decided to instruct the wolf to stay put and guard. She at least wanted to get back to her place of rest and know she was relatively safe. Cheeks puffed out the air, her hand tapping onto the hilt of the tulwar and then round to the kukri almost in a ritual checking that they were still there and on her person. Knuckles tapped the studded leather, and then she slipped out.
Focusing on keeping her feet light upon the ground she ducked only briefly into the faint glow of light, and then once more into shadow. She pulled at the tulwar hilt, steel grinding out of its sheath the keen edge biting the air. Pressing up against the entrance way she paused, her weight adjusting so her left shoulder pressed against the door. Knees bending she braced herself for a moment, a gentle testing press to see how much force she would need. There was a rock back, eyes narrowing down upon it.
Exhaling softly she remembered her job, the words rattling through her head. She had to go in, break a few things, scare the wit out of a woman and warn her. Warn her that they were coming. Her muscles gave a twitch, a cold mindset trying to fix itself in place. Big, bad, nasty, grim, cruel, lots of shouting and clattering. She sucked in the winter air, her brow creasing as she tried to force what she imagined to be a frightening mindset. This was far from easy. To bring up an intimidating and frightening persona was not exactly the strong point of a more scholarly sort – a cause was needed to act as a stimulant, to force the blood to rise and roar within her veins to make her go wild.
The mercenary braced herself, leaning back from the door. It was time to make a move, time to get this petching task done and dealt with. Once done, perhaps she could steel herself with some liquid courage before crawling into some hole – if anything to hide from the world once more. It was time to get the show on the road. It was sharply she rocked back and then forward, shoulder crashing against the door – loudly and firmly. It repeated, her full weight going into it. It groaned on its hinges, the cheep wood complaining. She backed off, a final full hard shove against it, as it cracked open. Her form went after it, stumbling inwards foot rising to catch herself. The steel came out fully, a forced mean look growing upon her face. Lips parted and a loud bark escaped, ”All right you little petcher!”
