PM to join [Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Two mercenaries are tasked with purging a small group of slavers.

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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Kaie on December 21st, 2014, 6:03 pm

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17th of Winter, 514
20th Bell


"Buncha con artists they are! Thieving bastards!" The old man growled with a slam of his heavy fist upon the wooden table. Milky blue eyes narrowed and lips twisted in an unsavory fashion in light of his remembered fury. He gave a scratch at his scruffy, white beard and took another drink from his mug. "Tried to buy me a good workin' lad. Strong as an ox they told me he was. Told me he was from Kenash, the sorta slave the rich folk there use to plow the fields. You know how rich them Kenash folk are?" His gaze flickered between the two figures sitting across from him. Their quiet gestures of understanding earned a satisfied grunt from the man, who made no further pause in his complaint. "Aye. Well I get on out there after I done paid my dues. Know what they gave me? Petchin' kid with a twisted knee they hid under his long clothes. Told me the limp was from defendin' his last master's flock from bandits. After I took the boy to my farm and found his deformity, I tried to send him straight back. Get me a refund! Bastards had their guards throw me out. Almost broke me jaw they did!"

The tavern was a modest one to be sure. There was only a small collection of tables and chairs, many of them molded or wounded from rowdy play. The bar counter itself only occupied a small section of the room. About five other patrons wandered through the establishment, some seating themselves toward the somewhat talented resident bard. Others preferred to sulk in silence before the bartender. Oddly enough, the bar maid hadn't made a round in some time. No one seemed to worry themselves over it. They did, however, pay plenty of attention to the obvious foreigner in their midst. Fur cloak hood down, the Myrian and her exotic features were plain for all to see in the dim candlelight. With her chair pressed to the wall she didn't seem to concern herself with the attention. Not yet anyway.


"So what did you have in mind for us," Kaie finally answered the old man after a moment of consideration for his story, and stealing a glance at her desert-skinned companion. The man gave a frustrated rub to his bald head and gestured with his mug between the two of them.
"Two look good with a sword. I want ya to root 'em out! I'm not the only one they've been pulling this shyke on the past few seasons. I got me a hunch they're gettin' their young slaves from the homeless kids out on the streets, kidnappin' 'em I'm sure! Buddy o' mine swore he saw them hand one over to the Donovan Tavish the Muted Maiden owner!" The Myrian's face twisted in displeasure for a moment, offering a glance toward Senghor. He'd presumably been in the city long enough to know what the Muted Maiden was. She'd only heard horror stories from Ruby's girls, tales of perverse lust.


"Any idea on where we can find them? How many guards they have in their service?" Kaie took a drink of her ale and the man seemed to grin devilishly at the questions. He took a drink of his own and got right to it. "Aye! Got themselves holed up in one of them buildings by the coast. Couple blocks from that big old compound with them huge walls. Ten feet tall I'd reckon." Her eyebrows rose at that. The Quay, She registered internally. Which means all the slaving and kidnapping is happening in Scars territory. Bitzer won't like that. The man offered the two sellswords a yellow grin. "Got some words on the door. The Kremlin Brothers, written in big black ink. When I went there to give them a piece o' my mind they had two guards posted at the front and back doors. A long, narrow hall leads from both to the center room. Bastards love their gamblin' games like it's nobody's business. There's the two brothers, might have some guests, but when I was there I got tossed out by the two guards inside. Could change, but that's what I know."

"And what'll you pay us for the favor?" Kaie leaned back and folded her arms, eyes narrowing at the somewhat organized nature of their adversaries. Her gaze must've created some anxiety, because the old man was in a tizzy licking his lips and drumming his fat fingers upon the table counter.
"Plenty of Gold Mizas each! I paid Thirty for the petchin' cripple. If you dig my coin out of their bloody pockets and return it to me, I might be willin' to share a bit more for your help." The Myrian gave a nod but turned her head the to Senghor with an arched brow. Whatever deal they agreed to, it had to be a consensus. Both their asses were on the line. They'd already been through Hai and back, and Kaie still hadn't decided if that coin had been worth their hardship. She gave a shrug toward him, an expression of "your call." The scruffy old man seemed to note this and eyed the hulking sellsword. "So what do you say? Got any questions?"
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Senghor Vilhjalmr on December 21st, 2014, 9:37 pm


Seng leaned back into his seat, listening to the incoherent ramblings of the old man wasn't doing good for his mind - he was lost so deep in thought that he couldn't even hear most of the man's conversion with Kaie. It was just a few days ago that he was laying in his bed, recovering from all that he had been subjected too and now he'd arrogantly thrown himself back into the fray of the mercenary work - maybe he was hoping that his next employer would have ties with whoever he was looking for. And unfortunately, though the old man and his own personal predicament followed the same pattern they broke off when the told them all he knew.

It was until the name of the Muted Maiden came into the conversion that he jolted back to the main; that horrid place wasn't a place he wanted to be associated with and when he turned to look at Kaie he could see that the girls at Ruby's hadn't left it out of their talks -- good, he thought. But that made him think. What if the men he was looking for were associated with the Muted Maiden?, he'd have to look it over and probably go to that sadistic nightmare of a 'whore' house, laced with its stench of piss and shit, to find information.

During the remainder of the rest of their conversion between Kaie and the old man, he decided to remain silent and didn't decide to intervene. The girl was handling business quite well, and he'd make sure to pass over the information to Noven about the kidnappings and slavery. They'd have to deal with whoever was doing the deed for the men they going to look for than.

Then came word of The Quay, now seized by the Scars themselves and that sparked farther intrigue and question pass into the mind of desert skinned mercenary. He'd make sure to pass the word when they left the sparse bar and its dreary mood. He listened on more of the man's ramblings, detailing on where guards were posted and where they'd find the men they would be looking for.

And than came a matter of price, though it was a reasonable amount he knew they could go for more but didn't want to test their luck. Kaie had gotten them the job so it was her who would lead the negotiations, regardless of how he knew if it was him and Noven they'd press for more -- with 'creative' methods of persuasion.

When Kaie turned toward him and passed him a look, the man leaned into the seat and smirked. 'We'll take the job. And anything that's not your gold we find in their den is ours, any slaves we find will be immediately set free and once we're done working for you and we're out of your company you will never ask of us for we never worked of you..."

He waited for the man's reply and nodded, quickly dipping his head in a bow and standing from his seat. As soon as he out the door of the tavern, his eyes looked over the cold empty street, winter truly brought misery of another kind. And when the warm body of the myrian was behind him and he felt her breath upon his neck, he curtly broke the silence by asking her question begging at the back of his mind.

'Kaie - this den at the Quay. Do you think Bitzer could also be funding slavers under our noses?' he asked her, turning to look over the smaller framed warrior.
From the soil we came, From the soil we conquered,
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Kaie on December 22nd, 2014, 7:42 am

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When looked to for consideration, Senghor delivered. Stern, disciplined, and ration he was in his response to the old man's dealings. The Myrian turned her own head back to meet the aged, milky eyes across from her. That's right. We do our work. We take our coin and anything else we deem of value. Then we go on our merry way. Nothing but ghosts to you. A butchery unsolved. She offered back a deliberate nod of her own in agreement. There was one oddity she had noticed in herself when her companion spoke. His mention of freeing of any slaves they found within their hold had never crossed her mind. Surely slavers would have a few of their own about, and stock nearby. An accomplice to the proliferation of slave trade in Sylira in one instance and later bound in shackles of her own in another, the whole thing was rather ironic. Perhaps there was that issue of conflicting experiences that slipped the detail from her mind.

"You two got yourselves a deal! When the deed is done, come looking for me here. Old Sal back behind the bar knows me well. Ask for Ike," The old man concluded with that yellow grin of his. The two pragmatic mercenaries were quick to depart from their place of conspiracy. Kaie rose when Senghor did, and after lifting her wool cloak hook back over her head, disappeared outside the tavern doors into the streets. She kept pace with him, hanging back only a bit to compensate for the thicker area of street traffic. Exhales of breath appeared in the form of curious white mist. When they'd begun to exit the more chaotic part of the streets and toward familiar territory, the Myrian quickly found herself side-by-side with him. At first they were both stricken by their business. Consumed by their challenging task and focused purely on mental preparation. The breaking of that silence when Senghor question her about the Quay and Bitzer's possible connection to slavers, paused the savage's absolute fixation on the battle to come.

Amber eyes flashed to stare at her comrade, widened at first and then narrowing in thought. It didn't take long for her to find firm ground. Her face twisted in a doubt that came more from loyalty than knowledge. Bitzer running the slaving ring? Kidnapping children in the streets and selling them off to the likes of the Muted Maiden? She shook her head firmly and set her jaw at the very notion.

"No," came the finalized belief, having needed no more than a tick of consideration of his pondering. The sound of her boots upon the cobbles was just as sure. "Not a chance from what I've seen with my own eyes. The Scars are new. I'll bet there is still plenty secrets the area the Quay occupies hides from even its leaders. And if they do know, I'd imagine they'd already be plotting a way to put an end to it. Either way we're killing two birds with one stone. Let's try to keep this clean if possible."

Further they walked through the streets and alleys toward the coast, which signaled their successful navigation with the smell of its salt water lingering in the frigid air. In the distance she could make out the silhouette of The Quay's towering walls plenty of blocks away. Must be real close. Several times Kaie let her eyes rest upon the writings that existed now and then on few buildings. It was all in vain. With a sheepish glance toward Senghor she gestured toward the collection of ramshackle housing and near-nonexistent businesses.
"I may be able to speak Common but I'm shyke with reading it. Keep your eye out for the Krimlem Brothers painted on one of these. When we spy it we should figure out a plan of entry before we walk in blind."
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Senghor Vilhjalmr on December 22nd, 2014, 12:27 pm

For about a moment the taller mercenary stood on his heels and adjusted the weight of his sword strapped to his waist by placing his palm on the pommel of it. How strange it was that his entire life was lived by the sword and only recently had he began to be more aware of his surroundings; to question the things around him.

He wasn't surprised by her answer. The Quay was a fairly large area; its acres stretched out farther than most could see and it wouldn't be unexpected that the Scars hadn't sifted out the entire area. Though that didn't stop his suspicion from being perked, he knew how Sunberth operated and how the gangs operated too - regardless of how young they were. The Scars was still a new born babe and were scraping around the city for scrapes and opportunities, running a slavery ring wouldn't be any different from most gangs.

'I'm just saying that we've been through a lot of shit -- together and individually -- and when we're dealing with other human beings, when we deal with a evil that we know all too well than we must be careful.' he sighed as they dipped into the chaos of cold streets and emerged by the Quay not long after. The walls towered all over other buildings with their tyrannical gaze and Seng rolled his shoulders disgruntledly, the Quay was a place he always tried to avoid especially after their deck there with Noven, burning down a ship still lingered on the lips of those who remembered and the winter always brought back those memories to those who never forget.

He stopped for a moment and looked at the myrian and nodded, he turned to buildings to scout for the Kremlin Brothers for a moment. A plan, he had already done those times of jobs so many times that he knew what they'd have to do.

Their walk through the buildings was empty so he found it easier to speak out what he was planning without a worry of prying eyes, 'I think the best course of action when we get there is for you to go around the back, you can cut down guards there while I take the two at the main entrance. We box them in so that nobody escapes. And when we're done, we burn down the den.'

They strode through The Quay until he stole a glance to the distance and stopped, he saw the building they were looking for and nudged the myrian in its direction. He firmly planted his palm on the pommel of his longsword.

'So what do you think?'
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Kaie on December 23rd, 2014, 6:05 am

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Trust. That was the point the Myrian knew her friend was trying to make. The Scars were new, as she had pointed out, but so were its leaders. Those leaders weren't anything more than acquaintances. They were just comrades in arms beating back at the Sunberth Beast. No, She scolded herself internally with a setting of her jaw. Acquaintances don't drag bloody savages off the cold streets. What they did was more than civil kindness. Much more than a good deed. You owe them more than you know. Far more than you know. The memory of the wretched start of the winter season made the woman's muscles stiffen. To compensate for the unsteadiness of her right hand in that moment, Kaie gripped the pommel of her own gladius.

"Been through a lot of shyke. You've got that petchin' right," She merely agreed with a sarcastic, short laugh. The idea of slavery was not permitted to linger in her mind too long. Though she'd experienced the unsavory, humiliating weight of chains and the cuts from shackles bound to her wrists, the Myrian took no firm stance against the practice. Her own people cared little to possess slaves. Myri's law of "take no quarter" made the practice nearly impossible to employ upon their enemies. Enslaving a fellow Myrian would be unthinkable. Perhaps one day or another she'd have an experience to make her beliefs more solid. "I don't blame your caution. With the walls in sight and this house apparently so close, one can't help but question."

Their synchronized steps echoed softly through the wintry night as they zig-zagged through alleys and entered the main road. Amber, exotic eyes conceded to gaze upon buildings in vain in hopes she'd see the guards as her clue. Senghor apparently discovered the house in sight, for he was quick with a plan the moment he paused. It was a well-thought one for the most part. His methods aimed to trap their targets were sound enough. With four guards out to begin with, that would in theory only leave two hired swords left. The number, if any, of said guests was a dangerous factor Kaie did not yet know how to deal with. Having to deal with a two on one situation just to begin with put her nerves on edge. With only two of them, they hardly mad much choice. His nudge had her turning in the direction his gaze followed. Sure enough she spied the silhouettes standing with a couple lanterns between them, chilled by the weather.


"Your plan will do. We'll just have to make good, quick work of the four outside. Keep injuries to a minimum. We'll free the slaves we find, but I say no to burning down the den. Fire spreads and we don't want the Scars associated with any accidental home burnings. We'll leave it empty. Let some poor bastards off the streets claim it for the winter. It's cold out here." Kaie tugged her furry cloak tighter about her frame to reinforce her point. Another glance was given to the hired guards in the distance. "I'll bet they're cold too. Cold, tired, and miserable on the job. Let's exploit that moving in. I'm going to double back and try to find an alley on the sea side. I want to get as close to them undetected as possible before they spot me in the open."

She could feel the comforting light weight of her twin kukri in their harness upon her back. There was confidence in her gladius work today, and reassurance in the fact a good stomping of her feet would lure out the menacing blades housed in her boots' heels. Faith reminded her Myri would do the rest, Goddess willing of course. We need to play smart here. No shrieked prayers when I ambush them. No showy blade work. I need quiet feet and sure hands. The woman tongued her cheek as she considered the task before them. The needed to work their individual strategies out and execute them as seamlessly as they could for success. It was for the good health of their pockets, the reputation of their affiliates, and for the residents that were subjected to the sins of the slavers. Namely, the kidnapped children sold like common whores.


"I'm ready when you are. If they hear us outside, doubled back to the last alley we crossed. It'll be easily to squeeze their numbers two men abreast and cut them down rather than letting them circle us in the open."
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Senghor Vilhjalmr on December 23rd, 2014, 11:30 am


Senghor had to admit that the girl knew what she was talking about, though he raised a brow when she took a moment of silence to herself. He wondered how deep she really was with the Scars; probably deeper than he was, and probably deeper than Noven himself but he wouldn't press on the matter. They had a job to do. All the questions would come later.

A low yet sharp whistle left from lips as he listened in on her plan. It ran at the back of the mercenary's mind - how such a exotic girl, probably no older that Eleazar was so involved in killing, everyday of her life spent in violence. She basically bathed in pools of blood for a living; just like everyone in Sunberth who couldn't their lives together.

He sigh, 'Hey kid. You ever consider settling down, I mean you still have a chance to leave this city and go somewhere quiet, somewhere like the Konti Isles or Zeltiva and away from all this madness - this violence and death. A girl like you, a beautiful and intelligent and brave, braver than most of these rats in this city, girl like you shouldn't be doing this for a living.'

He inclined his gaze her way as he looked at the building they were going to 'liberate'. 'All this violence, it catches up to you and you see things differently once you delve in too deep, Kaie.'

He smiled as he looked up, the waning moon beamed down its incandescent light on the city so beautiful that it just seemed to cleanse it of its reputation. He snaked his palm over to his longsword, shifted the weight and readied himself before speaking again.

'You don't owe anyone anything kid. Doesn't matter if you're flashing your tits or killing the scum of the world because ultimately you'll get tired of it." he sighed, the memories of the torture flashed in his mind for a moment as he remembered what they'd done too him, how pathetic and miserable they made him feel by degrading him, beating him and subjecting him to varies means of abuse that he wondered how they hadn't broken his will - or maybe they had and he didn't want to admit it.

'Unlike me, unlike Noven. You -- Kaie -- you still have a chance escape this city, these traditions and stereotypes that we live by,' he whispered to himself as he felt a cold breeze caress his cheek. It was cold, but held a sliver of hope and maybe redemption.


'Huh... Irony. Tis a sly mistress.' he finally said, breaking away from his thoughts and looking at the guards at the main entrance. 'You go out and find the back entrance and count to about thirty chimes, try your best to be as stealthy as possible and eliminate whatever guards in sight. I'll go talk to the guards upfront to lower their guard so I can take them by surprise and cleave a way in front while you do so from the back.'

'And if we can't burn it down, we can seize it as our own for the Scars and use it later. If Bitzer allows it...' he finally said after a long chime and abruptly stepped forward; heading toward the guards at the main entrance with a eased stride only he coolly could project.

He left so quickly that he didn't even get to hear a response from the myrian, but maybe it was because he didn't want too. She would make up her own mind - her decisions were finally were own - and he really wasn't in the mood to explain his sudden words of pacifism. But after his ordeal, he didn't want to see another person ever subjected to such a horrid experience - he was lucky and hopeful that day and he lived, but others didn't get a chance and he didn't know whether another would be as lucky as he was sometime in the near future.

As he walked up to the guards, they tensed up and drew their swords, 'OI!, Who goes there!'

'Hail Good men... I'was wanting to ask if the Kremlin Brothers are here. I heard they are hiring sturdy guards?'
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Kaie on December 23rd, 2014, 6:35 pm

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Just when he thought he might offer her an agreeing nod before they dashed to complete their task, her companion paused her with a speech instead. It caught her mid-step, furrowing her brow as she listened to the points he was trying to make. Though he didn't mean it so it was hard for her to register it all as anything but patronizing. Perhaps that was because his words to her were an almost identical copy to those she told Aider. The things she'd said in hopes to save him from a dangerous place in which they both knew he did not belong. A hope that he would come to his senses and abandon his ideas about having a future with him. A hope that he would leave his fantasies behind for she would never be allowed to let him bring them to fruition. Perhaps with some other woman in some other city. But not her. No, she couldn't do that. Hearing her own words thrown back at her tasted as bitter as any ale and far less satisfying. Was there any merit to her friend's?

She knew she was younger than Senghor just by the looks of him. Anyone with something between their ears could infer that a man born to such a city had seen some of the most vile and violent acts people inflict on one another. Murders, rapes, tortures, and grand larceny to list a common few. And though he seemed to have her best interests in mind he had forgotten the most important detail of them all. It was the single most applicable detail that made her exactly who she was. No location could ever change her in its light. It never mattered how far she ran. So deep was in embedded in her very soul that it would not abandon her even in her next life. Not even the life after that.


"I haven't been to the Konti Isles but I've been to Zeltiva. I've battled with Rhysol's warriors in Ravok, been enslaved and shown Nyka's abominations, drank ale with knights in Syliras, rode beside the Drykas in the Sea of Grass, sparred with the Akalak in Riverfall, and sailed the Suvan Sea with the Svefra. Now I'm about to spill some slaver blood with you in Sunberth. I've seen most of this world, Senghor," She responded to the man in the same way she had to Aider's prying with a sure-fire tone. Tan hands adjusted her fur cloak around her shoulder and she seemed to straighten up a bit. "I am a Myrian. There is no settling down. Our path is the war path, and when I'm home I will join the military just like the rest of my people. Myri wills it and so it will be. It does not matter where I travel. It's in my blood." Kaie swallowed hard after her proud speech of such certainty, thinking about the concept of travelling home. Her right hand gripped the pommel of her sword again.

But I am guilty of a terrible sin against my own people. I have failed my clan and the Goddess Queen twice. What can I expect if I ever go home? There will be no warm welcome...


"Thirty chimes it is. I'll see you inside," Kaie concluded with a flash of her teeth, a lighter ending to their meeting before they parted way in opposite directions. As Senghor made his way to provide the front guards with a jovial show, the Myrian turned on her heels and made a right into an alley toward the coast. She could hear the crashing of the waves as she neared in the darkness. The smell of salt in the cold air was comforting, an almost reminder of the sea she'd first crossed to reach the barbarian world. Creeping between the houses to remain hidden from the main road and the shore that flanked her, she began her approach upon the Krimlem Brothers.

Her posture turned to one of a predatory stalk in the night-filled alleyway. Back and knees bent, stepping with her heel first and then rolling to the balls of her feet to limit sound, it was only the crunching of snow upon the ground that would heed her advance. A loud cursing filled the night air that made her fall purposely against the siding of the inner house of the alley. Back pressed to the chilled wood, she inched her way along toward the corner. Next house should be it. Her breath came in sharp plumes of mist in the wintry air. For the next few ticks she chose only to listen, biding her time as she continued to estimate the arrival of the thirteenth chime.

"Bloody shyke! This is a piss poor gig."
"Oi, quit yer bitchin'. Ain't makin' us no warmer."
The Myrian thought about peeking out around the corner to see the faces for herself, but chose not to risk it. Only listen until she could formulate a plausible plan.
"Buncha bullshyke. Not even a petchin' fire. The petch are they payin' us for anyway? To freeze in the petchin' streets while they play cards all warm by the fire inside?"
"Think the men out front are any warmer? Just shut the petch up 'bout it. For gods' sake."

So there is two.

There was some scuffing of boots upon the snow, kicking and more cursing as the anxious of the two paces. A cold breeze ruffled through her own coat. Her mind drifted between her gladius and the twin kukri upon her back. Meanwhile she waited in the shadows. Silence persisted between the two men for so long the Myrian thought for a moment the very beating of her heart might reach their ears. She thought she could hear the echoes of Senghor's voice with the two men in the front. The longer she waited, the more anxious she became, fingers practically itching for action.

"The petch you think that's about?" The first guard said in his gruff voice, feet trudging away toward what sounded like the corner. The second merely huffed from where he resided out of Kaie's view and brushed it off. She thought she heard the swing of a lantern. Perhaps he was the one holding it, which would explain the very dim light that came from their direction.
"Some stupid petchin' sod tryin' to get out the cold I'll bet. Come off it, mate."
"Well they outta tell him those bastards inside don't give two horses' asses 'bout freezin' men," The first growled and began to stomp back to where he was, yet much to the Myrian's alarm, he didn't stop. Stomp by stomp she heard his coming closer, closer, and closer. Kaie swallowed hard and pressed herself as close a she could to the house. "I petchin' swear my piss is warmer!" And just like that he trudged toward the dark of the alley, his shadow merging with the ones she hid in as he pressed forward.
"Then why don't ya go piss on that sorry sod out front. Do him a favor."

Then he was there. Turning that corner into her alleyway with his hands undoing his trousers, reaching for his manhood. His eyes were down, messy dark hair dropping down into his face. Close enough! Kaie's hand released her hold on the gladius. That's when she struck. Her right arm looped arm the man's throat and she tugged him to her chest, left arm folding over her right hand as she strangled him. His eyes bugged wide, hands clawing in vain at her concrete hold that he couldn't release no matter how hard he tugged. No sound escaped his vocal chords before she felt the weakening of his muscles, hands working less intensely at freeing himself. Kaie held onto him a bit longer until she was sure the man had gone unconscious. Then, as quietly as she could muster, she laid him down against the house siding of the alleyway too.


"Thirteen," She mouthed to herself in her native tongue with a quiet exhale of relief. She pressed back against the house siding beside the man, catching her nervous breath. That's when she looked at the snow and noticed the mess of it her victim had made. Oh petch, he'd been kicking...Dammit!
"Mac? The petch you doin' back there, wrestlin' with it?"
Kaie cursed herself for the folly and slowly withdrew her gladius. The blade laid against her chest, keeping away from the light of the lantern and that of Leth. She heard the rising of the final back door guard and the groaning of a chair. Silence persisted and she saw the moving of the lantern.
"Gods sake." Then came the crunching of the second pair of boots in the snow, once crunching upon slick ice the man nearly fell upon, which too resulted in brutal profanity. "Kinda sick joke you playin'? Or did you finally drop dead from the cold?" The lantern turned toward the alley and vanquished some of its shadows. A hand appeared at the entrance, but it did not enter alone. She thought she saw the glimmer of a metal edge.

"Mac? Shyke." The lantern swiveled to find the body of the unconscious man, but it did not turn further up the alley to spy the Myrian before she dashed for him. The pommel of her blade jerked forward to punch at his throat, causing him to choke in silenced agony when he stumbled back. The knife came forward in a straight thrust, but Kaie knocked it wide with her free hand. Then she jerked the blade into his stomach. Steel appeared through his back and he crumpled into the hilt of her weapon. His thin hands gripped at her sword arm helplessly. The lantern clattered the ground and its glass shattered, the candlelight going out. Amber eyes stared down at him for a tick before the sword was torn free from him body. She caught the man in her arms as he slipped forward and the knife dropped from his fingers. Within a chime she'd dragged him to sit dead beside his sleeping companion in a pool of blood.


"Let's hope Senghor was as lucky." And with that she darted to the front door before anyone might investigate the sound of broken glass and dying gasps. Slowly, she turned the knob of the door and entered the slaver's den into the dark corridor. Eyes adjusted to the dim glow of candles, and peered down the length of the hall in hopes she'd spy her friend successfully inside as well.
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Kaie
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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Kaie on June 13th, 2016, 4:45 am

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Entering the building was risky business. Curses and boisterous antics raged on on the other side of the wall to her left. Her steps were slow and calculated, and every effort was made to keep her body low and tight to the wall. Even the tiniest creak felt like an alarm to her anxious ears. Now and then her breath would catch in her lungs and she'd freeze at the sound of a fist slammed on the table. Amber eyes continued to peer through the dark in search of her partner in crime. Yet as ticks passed and she inched closer and closer to the open archway leading to the next room, thirty minutes was nearing its end. She paused beside the open archway leading into the next room. Her brow furrowed. Dammit! Where are you, Seng? She crouched low where she hid just around the corner from her enemies. She could see the front door from her position, and thankfully all seemed quiet on its other side. While she waited, the Myrian tried to decipher how many laid on the other side of the wall based on voices alone.

"You rotten, cheating bastard!" A chair roared as a body jerked within it, its legs screeched against the old wooden floor. A gaggle of laughter erupted. "Since when did cheatin' mean me beatin' yer arse at yer own game?"
"Ay! He's right, Jack. You blow as hard at this game as one of Brega's whores!"
"Watch it, Ed! If you two keep talkin' shyke he might throw some shackles on ya and send ya off to the Row!" More laughter followed along with the sound of shuffled cards and gathered coins from a table.
"Petch the lot of you!"
Kaie held her blood gladius in the shadows as she listened. There had indeed been four distinct voices. Her employer had warned her the two slaving brothers would be joined by a pair of guards and some guests, which meant there might've been others inside who were not speaking. She let out a quiet exhale and glanced one last time toward the door. Without Senghor, she would be going in blind and alone. Despite her thick pride, not even Kaie thought she could feasibly kill even four on her own. They would band together and cut her down in ticks.

A thought struck her. She pivoted on her heels and inched back toward the door she had entered from. Slipping through the space between the door and its frame, she exited back out into the brisk night. A lantern still sat on a barrel, which had provided a measly light for the pair of guards she had dismantled. Her eyes flickered about in search of the object she had remembered spotting prior. Sure enough there was the filthy bottle on the chair beside the barrel. Kaie sheathed her sword and lifted it up, turning it in her palm. The light liquid within sloshed about the murky container. She removed the cork and took a whiff of the substance. Strong. Her eyes glanced back at the lantern and a wicked grin spread across her face. With lantern and bottle in hand, she crept back inside and crouched back in her spot. She breathed in. She breathed out. And then she sprung to action.

With the bottle uncorked, she emptied the entirely of its liquid contents on the floor where the corridor met the wider room. The laughter stopped as everyone in the other room observed the stranger. Kaie looked up as the last of the alcohol puddled and spread toward the homeowners. For those few precious ticks of confusion, only the flames within the fireplace that kept them warm spoke in loud crackles and bursts. Then, as the Myrian watched four card players and two guards burst to action, she stepped back and smashed the lantern into the puddle of alcohol. Flames burst and spread, creating a barrier that sealed the six men off from both door exits while trapping them between two sources of fire. Panicked shouts immediately began to ensue. Kaie raced out the back door again, but this time she rounded the side of the house. When she had finally gotten a full view of the room before sending part of it up in flames, she spotted an unobstructed window on the left side. If they were to escape her trap, at least she had the opportunity to cut them down one-by-one.

Hanging in the shadows near the window, the predator listened to the shrieks of her prey as smoke began to spill out the house's orifices. A confusing commotion and fits of violent coughing ensued within. After what felt like three chimes, a small table flung through what little glass and framing remained in the window. Kaie dodged the projectile, which splintered upon striking the frozen ground. She slipped her gladius from its sheath in anticipation. Sure enough, a body fell out and onto the ground. She could see the bright red of his face even in the dim glow of night. He groaned and sputtered on the ground, working his way up to a crawl away from the fire-consumed room. The Myrian didn't let him get far. The gladius plunged through his back and emerged out his stomach. She gave the blade a switch and tugged it free, leaving the moaning almost-survivor to bleed out into the snow.

Two more bodies flung themselves from the fire-infested home and into the liberating cold of the night. Though gasping, they had been clever enough to cover their noses and mouths with cloth. They landed near the cooling corpse of their companion who had arrived before them. And then they too followed him to the grave when Kaie's blade hacked down upon them before they found their feet. Another chime was spent watching the house burn. Before long the room, she deduced, must've been completely consumed. Sword steaming from hot blood, the Myrian surveyed her immediate environment before cleaning her blade on the soot-covered clothes of those she had slain. Each body was ransacked for coin. Then she took off into the night from whence she came, disappearing into the night before anyone raced to see the source of the smoke plume rising over the house. As she made her way as nonchalantly as she could to confront her employer about payment, all she could hope was that Senghor had gotten away unscathed after he distracted or killed the guards he had confronted.

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[Scars Territory] Breaking Shackles (Senghor)

Postby Aladari Coolwater on August 19th, 2016, 3:21 am

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Name:Kaie

XP Award:
  • Rhetoric: + 2
  • Tactics: + 4
  • Weapon: Gladius: + 2
  • Stealth: + 2
Lore:
  • Tactics: Exploit the Grunts
  • Tactics: Smoke Out the Enemy
  • Scars: Hiding Slavery?
  • Alcohol Starts Big Fires
  • Myrians: No Settling Down

Name: Senghor

Please message me if you ever return and I will post your grades.

Penalties/Rewards :
I didn't award the Mizas promised by the employer, as it wasn't RPed, and I assume that is part of the wages. But because it was so well played out, I will award 6 silver Mizas from the corpses.

Comments :
A beautiful thread, as always. I love the way you write, Kaie. I always feel like I'm inside her head when I read your writing, and I really feel what she does. It stuns me that you can convincingly write such a cold-blooded character.

Please don't forget to edit your request to reflect its graded status. If you have any questions or feel I forgot something, please contact either me or Anarkhos.

"The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure."
- Cornelia Funke
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