[Various] Dirty Hands

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:24 pm

54th Winter 513 AV

It was a simple task by all accounts. It was only through a flick of the hand and a subtle gesture that the once upon a time squire was hired. Apparently she looked like a ‘lad’, and although there was a distinct wince at the supposed androgynous appearance she made no further comment. Perhaps it was for the better to simply appear as a boy in such a dangerous city, it lowered the risk of some criminal activity whilst drastically causing a raise in others. Already she felt the distinct feeling of her frame being weighed up against others, no doubt contemplating on whether or not she could be snapped like a twig. Or at least until they noticed the massive white beast that lurked at her side. He only had to give them a mean look to send them back once more.

A sensation that left her uneasy to say the least, but it was only a quick nod of the head to the one who held the coin that brought them both talking in low voices and with pointed eyes some back smoky corner in the Pig’s foot tavern. Her hand was always behind her, the entire foot resting upon her toes as she stared. Her hand however hovered beneath the folds of her cloak the slender fingers wrapping around the hilt of the kukri hidden beneath as a ‘just in case’. If there was anything she knew about Sunberth, it was that it was far from one of the nicest of places. Always best to keep a hand on the blade just in case things turned nasty. And with Orvin on standby it certainly served a good aid of persuasion. Pinching her brow together she released a sigh, her ears pricking to the low monotones of the gentleman - Terbric as he introduced himself - who addressed her.

”Make ‘em cough up. You hear me lad? Wait, Bitz wasn’t it?” she only returned a slow, careful look to him, her brow briefly meeting in the middle. She gave him only a quick glance up and down, her other hand opening only in a simple gesture to him. Keeping her voice low she tried to focus on trying to maintain the man’s belief that she was indeed a ‘lad’. It gave a crack, the cords tensing as she tried to keep it deeper if not for the occasional rise up in pitch.
”Bitzer,” she corrected before she continued, a sharp sucking back as she tried to keep it lower, ”I’m going to need more information than that. Need to know who I’m dealing with. Just in case, you know.”

Terbric gave a spit, displeased and angered that she was not some simple open palmed sword for hire. Instead she was a carrier of common sense and questions, designed to aid her in the endeavour. And, as far as she was concerned, she had every right to ask. She needed to know, or had to know. Orvin only just looked at him, and gave a snort as he padded around behind her. He gave a kick at the dirt, hands thrusting into his pockets, ”Seedy place. Stinks too. Garry, the guy who lives there keeps ‘oling himself up and refuses to give up his debts. So we need to force him, make ‘im give too.”

Fallon wrinkled her nose, her lip twitching and her eyes burning for a moment and then easing away from his. It was like trying to draw blood from a stone, hard and impossible. Arms folding she began to push herself away, ”You don’t tell me things, then I can’t help you. Simple really.”
There was a click as she pushed away, her hand still resting upon the hilt, her entire form resting upon her toes, almost as if she was getting ready to spring away should the man be disgruntled with her lack of cooperation. Or at least until he gave a moment of protest. Her head only turned back to face him, eyes sharp and fiery, ”You want something?”
“Gods above, I need ‘im gotten rid of! What do you want to know Lad?”

Better.

”What are you offering?” she gave a shrug, her tone turning into that of a sigh, ”I’ll decide if it’s worth my time on that.” He gave a flash of a coin purse, but the contents were not show. Still, even she could not help but stare, her brow knitted together as she gave it only a quick regard. It did not tell her much, it could have just been full of stones and dirt after all – plus she would not have put it past Sunberth natives to play such tricks. She rubbed at her jaw, lips once more parting to speak in that low tone – or as close as, ”I meant information. Who is he? Name, place, details, reputation, anything. I need to know what I’m stepping into, need to be ready. Where does he live? Gods above, why even in the first place?”
“Just someone who needs to pay. Who needs to cough up.”
“So coin?” she gave a stare to his unflinching face, her lips remaining in a fine line. Why was he being so defensive about it? So protective over the exact nature of whom she was dealing with. Then again if she was simply bursting in and frightening the man, then it should not be too important. Right?

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:28 pm

Fallon gave him a point, a rise of the chin, an incline of the hand, ”More, I need more. Keep it going.”
“The bastard has himself held up in the Sunset Quarters, barely standing apartment. Got red on the door.”
“Paint?”
“Nah lad, blood.”

Her expression fell at that point, dumfounded spreading across it. There was a guarded look to the man, lid twitching before she shook off the nagging feeling. This was Sunberth, it was to be expected. Least that was what she kept telling herself. Pinching her brow she listened to the rest of her potential client’s words, the descriptions the name – Gary by all accounts – and the continuous repeating that he needed to pay. For what he did not answer, not that it seemed to matter too much in providing other information. Prone to holing himself away it became clearer that she couldn’t simply jump him in the street. Breaking and entering would be required, quick steps, fast movement with a clear threat sounded out.

”What if he fights back? Or doesn’t take it too well?” she asked, ”What then?”
“Give ‘im incentive. Give some beauty marks. Use your imagination. And, if the petcher comes to kill you, what else you going to do lad? Let yourself lay down and die? Put ‘im out his misery, make ‘im pay that way.” She gave only a frown, her mind hoping that things would not come to that. Still, the words of her brother echoed round in her head, the bitter truths that pressed against her mind the demands that she would not hesitate to drop a threat that came her way - for whatever his own reasons. Sighing she finally gave a nod, ”How will you know if I’ve succeeded?”
“Oh, I just will…”

If that was not odd, Fallon would have loved to have known what was. Rocking on her heels she gave a glance to Orvin, her brow knitting together with careful thought. Something did not seem to sit right with her, there was something missing. But then again she could not exactly turn down the offer, not yet at least. Coin was needed to build up and gain supplies, to cover resources and other necessities. She wanted to get through the season in relatively good health after all, ”And when it’s done?”
“Meet me in the Pigs foot. Give you two days to get ‘im and deal it. Else, no pay. Got me?”
“I’ve got you,” she sighed and rolled her eyes. There was a quick shake of the hand, her gloved wrapped up in his larger one, ”I’ll see you later then Bitzer.”

There was only a moment of silence as she watched him leave, her eyes burning at his back whilst the muzzle of Orvin brushed against her hand. It was not safe to stand around for too long, she knew that, but even then it was hard to pull her eyes away from him. Almost as if it was vital she watched his movements away. She changed the air in her lungs, and gave the incline of the head down to Orvin, ”Shall we partner?”

He offered a yawn in return, paws padding after her as she walked away. Hood rising she straightened herself, her arms wrapped up beneath her cloak, the rough felt pushing back the cold for the moment. There was only the occasional glare, the mean look lifting up on the faces of natives. They did not want her here just as much as she did not want to be either. But that was the price to pay for leaving. She gave a snort, a cold glance towards those who came near. It was better to put the guards up now, to always be on the defence and ready – there was no way she was going down without a fight.

Clicking her neck she, dipped her head down and slipped her way through the narrow passages. There were the subtle twists of her frame as she maintained her steady gait, the bowing head of Orvin. There were a few sharp looks, a moment of careful regard of the small mercenary and the massive canine that followed her. Her hand gave a press against the wall, her mind slowly working through her course of action. Firstly she would stalk out the area, know and learn the terrain, check for ways in and out, the buildings and the people. Things like that had to be taken into consideration. Then, after that it would be retreating back to plan and check equipment, to decide what tools she would need for this job.

She only prayed to herself that this time she hopefully got the right door.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:28 pm

Snooping around the Sunset Quarters was far from an easy task - more so whilst trying to act slightly inconspicuous with Orvin following closely behind. There was the occasional brush of shoulders with others, her gait focused on maintaining steady and firm – almost as if to attempt to produce an air of confidence or a warning that she was not someone to mess with. The cloak however remained tightly around her, masking the shapes of weapons and armour, whilst producing a certain broad shouldered look - perhaps it was no wonder that she was mistaken for a ‘lad’ in this instance. Nothing was exactly revealing after all.

Fallon scratched at her chin, steps quickening the eyes of the locals only briefly glancing upon her with a predetermined prejudice. She ducked into the narrow alleyway, feet sloshing as they stepped through an icy puddle, the hot breath chilling upon contact with the air. Winter, it was always cold and chilling, numbing to the bones and destroyer of the old. That strange period of nothingness, as the world lay dormant and waiting for spring. She gave a shudder and uttered a curse as the damp crawled through the leather boot. Still, despite all its discomforts she would not change it and its personal importance to her. Air sucked in, she came onto a narrower street her eyes glancing across to the poor structures and the neglected buildings Sunberthian’s called home.

There was a few laying about, watching waiting for something to happen, or perhaps lying drunk in their own filth. She did not halt her steps as she went past a scuffle, the angry shouts and threats of men fighting and scrapping. It was not her place to get involved, and if she did it would only risk the creation of more hurt. Besides, she had her current goal in mind intervening would only serve as a distraction from it. Eyes filtered from door to door, the broken, the old, the worn and the stained. Perhaps it would have been better to get the man to lead her there instead of trying to find her own way – but that was only the notion of hindsight. She was here now, it was best to work with the tools she had available to her.

It was suddenly however she stopped, her eyes narrowing down upon a door. Strong wood, reinforced with additional planks where it had give way once before. Giving a careful look round, the mercenary gave an approach to it, slow, gentle, a pinching of lids to the boarded up windows of this ramshackle construction. Glove tips stroked the wood, the dark dried red marring the surface of it. Pulling on her djed she focused it, bring it up around her eyes, the mutter of words beneath her breath, ”Wake up, light up, let me see.”

Her sight crackled, her mind and will focusing on controlling her energy at present. Orvin remained behind her, gently pacing back and forth, his ears twitching to the world around them. His master in the meanwhile was busy, searching looking and trying to understand; if anything so she could use it as a future reference. Crouching down she gave the door a long hard look, her brow knitting in concentration. Controlling her auristics was still at this strange tentative stage. Although she wanted to go deeper, to look further, even she had enough common sense to know that was far from a good idea.

Eyes bore at the surface, teeth chewing at her lip as she concentrated. She felt the djed shift, the off blue filter creeping over as she plucked at it. The surface rippled – to her at least – her hand resting against it, an angry glare to the dark patch that then burst almost into a burning red. It gave a turn, the cold chill crawling up and across her face, her brow creasing into that of a line. Snapping her lids shut she shook her head, the distinct sting sliding across. It sapped at her, but the image was clear. Least, what she thought it was with the pulsing of her sockets. She released a grunt, a hand clapping over her eyes and her form forced into stagger away. There was a groan, ”Rest now, darken down, enough is seen.”

Fallon slid away, Orvin following behind, her eyes watering as she hovered around the mouth of an alley. Pressing her head against the cool wood she calmed herself, a rattled breath escaping as the turbulent waves of djed calmed and subsided. Bloodshot eyes gave a stare out to the world, a gentle dilation of the pupils as they adjusted. There had to be a better way, there was too much force. She eyed the door once more, this time from range. It certainly seemed to fill the description, least visually. Exhaling she sucked in the cold air, feet stamping against the icy ground. She only gave the glance down to her companion, fingers reaching to knot within his fur as she looked across.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:29 pm

It was for a while she stood there, cheeks puffing, the occasional shudder to throw off the cold. It was from this point that Fallon could gain a clear view of the building and its apartments itself. There was of course, the staircase wedged awkwardly next to it leading to the room above, and either side there was the tight nest of buildings and their supports that groaned under the weight of the snow. It would only get worse, she knew that – mid winter was barely passed them and already the people were driven to beating each other. Then again, this was Sunberth.

Boarded up windows was what caught her attention next, if they could even be called windows. More like gaping holes that had been sealed shut in a hurry with poor wood and nails. Nostrils gave a flare, her chin lifting to look higher still, to the narrow gaps between and a long hard contemplation at them. Perhaps, with enough push it would be possible to jump the gap, but Fallon was not exactly going to climb up there and find out – besides, it looked far from stable. Rubbing at her jaw she returned her attention once more to the door. Breaking it down was a viable option – if not a noisy one – though at the moment it seemed like the only possible way. Unless there was another way in. Fingers drummed against her arm, a gentle tap against the coat.

Giving a blink she pushed herself away, a shake of the head as she regained her bearings. Taking a once round the street she ducked into an alley. Feet stomped through the mud and snow, shoulders brushing past others once more – a blood shot scowl was given to them. The tents were calling, along with the warmth and shelter that came with them. Easing herself through a narrow alley, she quickened, her eyes glancing over her shoulder her eyes glaring into shadow. A few of the locals were behind her at a distance, mean looks upon their faces as if they were itching for a fight, for blood and for coin. Petch Sunberth and its people. She rolled her shoulders, a firm stare back at a group of hovering thugs. Lips parted, firstly forming from a grimace and then into a wicked grin.

There was only a pause as she stood there, hand going to the tulwar her back straightening. Nostrils flared, the rising growl clawing its way up her throat. And whilst she continued her stare, did the thugs return it back. Orvin padded next to her, a low snort almost in disapproval. Her other hand reached up to the strings of her cloak, fingers entwining with it and gently pulling – ready almost for a scuffle. For a moment there was silence, a standoff between who would react first and whilst Fallon was in no mood to start a fight, she sure as well was going to finish it if one came her way. She knew what she was capable of, and she knew what she had to do should the case arise. Shoulders rolled, eyes staring intently at the three as they made an almost hesitant approach, and then to the narrow alley they were positioned in. She was certain she could touch either side with her arm span. Adjustment was needed, that much she knew. Turning side on, her right foot leading she continued her stare down, her chin rising in challenge, ”If it’s a fight you’re looking for lads… Well, stop pussy footing about it.”

It was a sudden movement, a full on charge that came next with the declaration of ”Get ‘em!” ringing out.
”Orvin! Bite!” came her response.

First came the cloak, the bulky heavy felt would only slow her down in a fight. Pulling and releasing the string she let the material slump to the ground. The same hand snapped down to the sheath of the tulwar, the right pulling it free in a practiced movement. Keen edge leading the tip managed to get free as the first of the three was upon her, dagger glinting in the winter light. Metal clashed against each other, edges grinding as a wild fist was swung angrily at her. She took a large step back feet snapping together then apart and her entire form focused on leaning away. Orvin however wasted no time forcing his way past his master. Jaws snapped, a growl breaking out into a snarl as he planted himself onto the first attacker’s leg.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:30 pm

A howl of pain screamed out through the alley, but that did not stop her. Blade now completely free she gave the first thug a firm kick, and brought her assault forward to the slower second and third. Which was surprisingly difficult to achieve due to the tight space that limited movement – broad horizontal swings would be out of the question. She brought the blade back a firm forward thrust towards one of them, her left arm snapping tightly behind her back. There was a shriek in anger as they closed in, the snarls of Orvin as he continued with the first hovering beneath. With the second leaping to the side she took her attention to the third, eyes burning fiercely at him. Stepping after the blade she brought it back and up, her entire form focusing on contorting and twisting to get behind them.

Muscles strained, her form rising up onto her forward foot, the blade arm coming in snug against her. The rear foot switched to the front, the mad slash of a dagger against her bracer. Snapping away she pivoted round, blade lashing out at the second thug, a firm downward cleave at him. Her mind commanded her to go faster, to be swifter, to be stronger and she obeyed it. The blade came back; her once held back left hand snapping out to the collar of the second and firmly pulling him back. There was no mercy as she gave a yank, the heavy tip of the tulwar forcing its way round. There was a snap, followed by a gargle as metal and flesh met, the edge firmly imbedding itself into his side. Pulling it she felt it stiffen and stick, rebelling as she tried to pull the blade back. The third thug simply stared at her, a mixture of surprise and horror rolling across his features despite his still strong approach. Rage rose, fury commanding the thug into a cold blooded revenge, an angry cry upon his lips. Fallon released the tulwar focusing on making space between them. Broad swings of the dagger came her way, blinded by self greed as he pressed an attack.

Orvin was still caught up with the first, his snarls and barks were more than apparent of this. Her arms parted before her, splaying wide to keep her balance as she gave a leap backwards and her form creasing in reaction to the swipe of the dagger. Her hands slapped against the sheath of the kukri, fumbling for the hilt as she was pushed back further. It jiggled loose, her toes slipping on the frozen floor as the third thug came at her. Grasping it tightly she forced the kukri between them, tentative and testing with it – she knew she was far from confident in its use but still there was the demand for it. Her arm stretched and strained as she lead forward with it, left fist clenching tightly and swinging round.

The distance closed between them it became a mad press, brute strengths and flexibility playing at present. Her pulse screamed at her, emotions snagging up in her senses – fear and anticipation being the most dominant, whilst the call to fight and react falling a close second and third. Hot breath caressed the air, the cold steel waggling wildly at each other. She thrust the tip of the kukri forward, her hand cupping over the hilt as she charged the third thug. The pair clipped each other once more, the edges slicing through layers and snagging on clothing. Reeling her head back, the mercenary cracked it again his and sent a searing pain through both of their temples. Staggering away shaking her head, Fallon threw her foot down and then recoiled once more at him, gloved hand open and clawed. She gave a swing of the blade at him, slicing it across his torso the other trying to fumble once more to grasp him tightly. Throwing her weight onto him during his in mid stagger, the pair crumpled to the floor in a heap, his metal flying through the air into some direction whilst her own found itself lodged in his gut.

Fallon released a grunt, her form easing up and away from the one beneath her. Chest heaving, she felt the taste of bile and copper resting in her mouth, her mind blinking as she gave a look about. The cries of the first were still echoing out, the snarls and bites of Orvin drawing her attention to the first. Placing a foot down she grasped the Kukri, arms straining as she ripped it free and gave only a cold look to the canine. Slow steps dragged her over, the blooded chops of the creature as he locked onto the man’s arm.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:30 pm

”Orvin,” it came out more as a growl than actual words. She gave the wolf a firm shove to the side, the man howling in pain to the mess that had been made. A long exhale escaped, the gentle crunch of ice and earth beneath her feet as she grasped the man by the collar. She gave a bark at Orvin, the hissing growl escaping her lips before she snapped to the quivering form. She heard the rasping breaths from beneath a torn face, and dragging him up to her she glared with the tip of the kukri pointing under his chin. She held the gaze, cold and sharp, each hot breath resting upon his blooded features, ”So what did you want? Coin? Money? A bit of fun? Answer me!”
“You… you… bastard.”
“You picked a fight with the wrong Wilding,” eyes burned at him, hovering close and the tip pressing in deeper into his chin, ”Answer me!”

He gave a rasp, the chest rising and falling but the kukri remaining in place. She felt her mind give a turn, the snarling of Orvin pushing at her senses and encouraging the growth of a rougher behaviour. The growl turned into a roaring dirge, hissing and spitting. Dragging the tip down she stared, withdrawing it and her hand before smacking him across the face. There was a wince, and then the forceful hand of pulling him back, ”Answer me!”
“Snooping...” he gave a spit, jaw stretching as he looked away. Or at least until he got a second punch, ”Poking around his place.”
“His?” she held his jaw firmly in her hand, ”Start talking.”
“He, Garry sends his hello,” he responded back.

Fallon held the gaze, chin lifting and her brow knitting slightly. The words of her contract echoed through her head, repeating themselves over. Attack, scare, needs to pay. Her hand withdrew and she stood, neck clicking and the kukri sliding away in place. She gave him a swift kick in the gut, a moment of frustration as she looked down upon him disgruntled. Something was not right, that much was becoming more and more obvious by the tick. Treading over to her tulwar she gave only a brief glance down to the corpse and begun working on wriggling it free. There was only a shake of the blade as she stared back at the living thug, and then promptly slid it away. There was another kick, this time into the leg and lighter than before. He gave a jerk, the strength having sapped away his ability to fight. Fallon released a snort, ”Tell Garry… Bitzer sends their regards.”

Pivoting round on her foot she, gave the incline of the head to Orvin, a gentle guide of the hand as she scooped up her fur. There was a moment of careful regard to the alley and the mark she had left, before she spurred herself onwards. Hanging around would only cause more trouble, or at least the potential – besides her warning was more than apparent just as was his. Gnawing at her lip she quickened her pace, her fingers tying at her cloak strings. She needed to get out of sight and cleaned up; it was only now that the stains were making themselves clear in her mind. Orvin was making way after her, sharp glares being given out as she brushed shoulders with others. Speed was needed, the urge to get away as quickly as possible.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:31 pm

The journey back to Tent City was a long one to say the least, driven forth with determination. And when she finally did return her preparation began. In the safety of her own space did she settle down, lighting the lantern to produce a glow. She gave Orvin a firm point to the corner. There was only a moment of regard as she watched him pad over to it and settle himself down with a yawn. Settling herself down in the relatively sparse tent she gazed upon the little that was there – nothing really of any true form of value. Her equipment was most probably the most valuable, and she kept those on her person at all times. Rubbing her brow she peeled off her armour and then her coat, her form shaking as she placed the articles down upon the canvas base. There was a glower at the leather bracer that had caught the blow, the definite groove that was now within its surface. Least it stopped potential injury.

With the cape and coat tossed to one side, the girl began her work. It was almost ritualistic in movement, and something that was becoming ingrained upon her mind. Firstly she tended to the brazier, feeding the small iron box with tinder, oil and later wood to encourage light and warmth. The wolf only watched her in her practice, the occasional eye turning to her in curiosity as allowed a moment of rest. She then turned her attention to a worn rag, claiming it and turning to the blooded weapons. Everything had to be clean, everything had to be looked after – if there was anything the knights had managed to teach her successfully it was to respect and care for her equipment. They were here tools of the trade and what allowed her to exist for another day. There was a slow repetitive movement, firstly along the tulwar edge, the rough fabric set on removing what had tarnished it. Eyes narrowed down, leading it from hilt to tip in one broad sweep.

A hum rested upon her lips, her brow knitting with thought as she ran it down. Her thumb pressed against the fabric – which in turn pressed against the steel - and the long smear of red being pulled off and away. Eyes narrowed down upon it, hair falling forwards as she once more repeated the motion. Lifting the cloth away she gave a study to the streaked surface, and sheepishly thumbed the cutting edge. Hot breath left its print upon the cool, and wiping it away she lowered the blade and turned to the kukri. Steadily she repeated it, mind ticking over with thought as she tried to devise a plan. They knew she was about, she knew their defences were raised, but their numbers were a mystery. She chewed at her lip, a disgruntled look upon her face.

A lie. It was all a lie from her client. There was no money, there was only the want of revenge, to make a man –this Garry – to pay and suffer for something. She pushed her fringe to one side with the back of her hand. What a pain. Still, it was started now and begrudgingly she knew she would have to finish the job – and in this case it was perhaps better to know as little as possible. She was a hired hand, someone brought in to rough up another, an outsider in a war between two men. The cloth was rotated round, small circles being made as she continued to clean it. Everything had to be ready and perfect. The weapons, the appearance and the aura of some attempted intimidation.

Eyes glance briefly up to Orvin. It would be better for him to stay, he would only get in the way in this instance, and his fur would make him a magnet for attention. Clicking she lowered the kukri and sighed. She needed a plan, a strategy. The obvious and easiest would to simply burst through the door, but who knew what was lying beyond. Plus if those three knew she was snooping about, then surely others would too. She drummed at her arm, her brow creasing with further thought. She needed a way to lure him out into the open; least that was what she thought would be the best approach. From there she could deal with him quicker, and the darkness would mask her. And she had an idea on exactly how she was going to do that.

There was a moment of regard, before she simply laid out the coat and cape, choosing to leave them to one side. Scratching at the shirt collar and then the wool tunic thrown over the top, Fallon sighed. Coats and cloaks would slow her down, and so she would have to brave the cold winter air without them. Discarding her gloves she rubbed at her features, her brow being pinched. The same hand slicked back to her fringe, and then fumbling for a cord with another. Tying her mane of hair back she exhaled taking the momentary break to gather her thoughts. A plan was now before her, all that was needed now was to act upon it without holding back. She gave a nod to Orvin, her lips curling only slightly, ”You’re gonna have to stay here Orvin. Alright?”
A yawn was her answer.

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:31 pm

When the darkness came, Fallon stirred herself into rising from her temporary chasm of thought. It surfaced to the cold night air, a cloak of black to shadow her form, the chill of the night creeping through the leather, wool and cotton. Armour was donned, the hood brought up and over across her face. It was a silent march, steps gliding through the snow, feet focusing on remaining light as it entered the Quarters once more. Shoulder dipped, a gentle lead as she entered shadow, her left hand leading, her right resting ready upon the tulwar. And whilst she hovered there, still and silent, she did not dally for long. The pace quickened, the crunch of snow beneath her feet, the frost fall pushing her onwards. Hot air billowed out from her lips, her eyes staring on ahead through the surrounding gloom.

Or at least until she stopped. Halting at the mouth of an alley she stared out, the faint glows of lights creeping between the cracks showing her way, the outlines and shadows warped. Colours dipped into different shades, showing the other sides of the world that was hidden once before beneath the veil of daylight. Eyes turned to the escaping glow, turning to the copper coated doors and the definite dark patches. She saw the crack through the boarded window, the dulled spark from within the darkness. Her hand went to her tulwar, drawing it gently, gloved fingers flexing around the hilt, whilst her left tucked itself into her belt. Narrowing at the distance between her and the door she inhaled one last time.

Fallon begun her job. It was to scare the man. To make him pay for what had been done. To exact a state of fear and terror upon his mind in whatever form possible. She chewed at her lip, her left wrist twitching as she felt her djed give a turn. She had to create a distraction, a point of contact to lure him out. By luring out exploitation was possible, and with that the job could be done. A rattled breath escaped, her feet stamping on the ground. It was a job, a way to get coin, an inside look to the world she would have to go against. She plucked at her astral, the threads holding the left limb in places unthreading and dropping down. The ethereal gave a shudder, stretching and flexing free, the digits wiggling in the air.

Turning her attention to the door she focused her projected hand, and stretched it forward. At first there was a moment of hesitation, but as it snaked its way across the street she stretched it, strings trembling the world existing right within reach. Her eyes pinched as she pushed against the distance, fingers stretching out firmly. She slapped the surface of the door, hard and firm, the wood rattling out into the night. She smacked at it again with the projected hand, digits clawing its way round the handle. Grasping it she tugged, firm and hard, a firm loud shake that rattled into the night. Wood groaned, the hinges shaking and turning, before once more banging the fist against it. For chimes she repeated this, each shudder clawing up through the wood, her brow knitting as she felt the strain of the limb. She watched the shadow pass the inside, signs of movement from within.

Hand snagging on it she continued to pull, teeth gritting as the door was swung open. Orange was cast across the snow, her astral hand pulling back and hovering. Toes flexed, a gentle push out from her point in the alley. The shadow of the man - Garry she presumed - stretched out, muscles lit within the light, the gleaming edge of a hand axe. This giant of a man stared out, face masked in shadows but it was clear he was searching for the source, "Come out ya coward! You knock upon my door then face me!"

For a moment there was no words, only the gentle movement as she shifted and dipped into view. There was a glare out from beneath her hood, the eyes drifting down to each other's armaments. Her astral hand was still hovering, her physical left arm still tucked away behind her belt. Shoulders rolling she gave a point, "You Garry?"
"You Terbric's hound? Sent to do is dirty work? Petching Bullshyke," came the sneer.
"So you know my client then? No hard fe-"
"Hard feelings! You're dead. Both of you," she felt her feet turn, the chill caress her form whilst the warm blood pulsed and quickened. Sucking in the air she stepped round, steel glinting in the light. Garry gave a point, a firm advance to her, "You're first, you spinele-."

by **Fallon** on December 18th, 2013, 3:31 pm

Enough was enough. Fallon slashed the tulwar round, sharp fast as she lunged. The astral hand that had been hovering swung at his head and smashed against the flesh. Jerking to the side he shook his head, stunned and confused by the blow to the head, the axe rising defensively. The edges caught, hooking and ensnaring around each other. The astral snatched back and then shot forward at his throat. Pair parting she gave a duck as the axe swung over head, the deep rasping breaths of Garry as he struggled to breath in the air, a rasping noise escaped as she squeezed down tighter around his wind pipe. He gave a stagger, slower and struggling as she carved the metal tip across his torso. She forced him onto his knees, chest heaving her eyes burning down upon him as the pair stared. The astral hand quivered and withdrew, sliding away to safety within the limb and the threads once more rejoining. The tulwar tip however pressed upon his throat, cold an merciless in judgement.

"I got told to make you pay," she pressed the tip firmly against him a gentle warning. A hiss escaped her lips, colder than before, the tremble of her arm as she stared down the length to him, "Announce your ills and I shall make the judgement."
"Judgement? Hah! You know nothin' Mercenary!" he rasped, fingers once more tight, "Sunberth has no judges. We fight to survive, to live and to breathe. The weak have no power and the spineless have no right to cast down such things among us."
Fallon scowled, "And I was give this rig-"
"Right? You're like the rest, looking for coin. You have no right outsider!"

The axe was swung at her, killing intent knocking the tulwar to one side. Leaping up at her he, swung again, pressing against her. It was occasions like this that knowledge and reason did not matter. Where information would cause her to falter and question, he simply came at her and forced her into reaction. Her client did not care on what happened anyway, or perhaps most probably thought he would be dead one way or another. And so, when the axe came down and clipped the skin of her fore arm did the instinctive blood lust rise. The tulwar shot forward, the heavy end gutting into Garry with a struggle, the red marring the snow. There was no final moment, no outstretched monologue between her and him. There was only the final whimper of noise as the life was snuffed out and the cold body of Garry simply sunk to the ground.

Fallon gave a shudder, feeling the warmth sap out from her arm and mingle with his. It stuck to her hands and clothes, a slick substance creeping on through. How quick and easy it was to simply snuff him out - proving really that human's were such fragile creatures without armour. Hissing she pulled the blade free, the body juddering before it dropped completely, eyes still wide and glowing in the light of the open door. It called her like an open chasm, promises of value locked within. Or at least until the nagging reminder that this was Sunberth and such things did not exist here. There was a wince, the stinging burn locking around her arm as she pulled away, the numbing sensation of lacking blood and the astral still trying to finalise it's attachment taking the edge off. There was only a moment of regard as she looked back, shoulders sagging the bitter taste having formed within her mouth. It was done, disappear and move on.

The world came to life at this moment, every whisper a shout and every click a knock. Her mind simply gave a spin as she ripped at the sleeve of her shirt and used it to serve as a binding. It was not the deepest of cuts, least from what she could tell, but it still needed to be dealt with - wash it, clean it, purify it, protect it and let it heal. For the moment however she had a call to make with Terbic in the tavern, and the cold knowledge that her job was indeed done.

Gods, I need a drink.

by **Vanari** on February 1st, 2014, 12:40 am

Fallon

Intelligence	+2 XP
Acting	+1 XP
Persuasion	+1 XP
Interrogation	+3 XP
Negotiation	+1 XP
Investigation	+1 XP
Auristics	+1 XP
Planning	+2 XP
Weapon: Tulwar	+2 XP
Weapon: Kukri	+1 XP
Projection	+2 XP

Lores :

Notes :

Solo [Various] Dirty Hands