PM to join Eyeing the Night Eyes

[Zen Tanka]

Third of Summer 516AV The Pig's Foot Tavern Trough the darkness cast on his face by the cloth of his hood, two orbs of glinting green held their haze on the golden liquid placed in front of them. Contained by the wooden walls of his mug, its surface stood unstirred, clearly not touched in some time. Having found a seat behind one of the smaller corner tables, the thief rested the weight of his head on the palm of his hand. The silent drumming of his fingers against the rough wood of the table reflected that of the rain over the cobblestone street outside. The night was still young, and its cold, combined with the light drizzle made Hanzo seek out refuge in the warm interior of the Pig's Foot. It was definitely less lively than during the day, becoming more so as the hours grew late. It's current inhabitants were people very much alike him, obscure. Either drinking alone or uttering hushed words with their companions, the people worked to preserve the cryptic silence. Hanzo had no will to drink, nor did he wish for company. If only the rain were to stop, he could make way towards his home and surrender himself to the embrace of his bed. Humble as it was, it was currently his greatest wish. From the moment he surrendered his message sometime at noon, down to this moment, he was feeling strangely tired. More so than he ever felt before. His 'letter of application' was simple enough. Laconic, and somewhat crude. Written on a simple clean piece if yellowed-out parchment, by someone clearly not versed in calligraphy, it contained his name, and the statement that he wanted to join and purge the city of its filth. He didn't know how the recruitment quite worked. No instructions were given, as he exchanged no words with the old woman tending to the flock of messenger birds. Who knows, maybe it will take weeks, even months for any sort of reaction. Then again, it might be just never. His brown brows furrowed at the last thought. He couldn't destroy the Daggerhand by himself, that much he was certain of. Pinching the edge of his facemask, the thin fabric was lifted just enough to uncover his lips, ones that were pulled in a thin grim line. With fingers coiling around the wooden handle of his mug, Hanzo emptied one third of its contents down his throat. The bitter sweet taste of the Foot's ale felt refreshing. He wondered what do they put in it? The rain was falling in intensity, soon, he will be able to pass out in he safety of his home. That one thought warmed him as he waited.

[Anarkhos]

He walked into the ever so old tavern who's walls had seen many fights and killings as well as joyful songs of old times and celebrations. He pulled his leather cloak off of his head giving it a shake to free it of the heavy rain water that fell from the skies outside. The tavern wasn't as full as it normally was, business was slow today. Most of the patrons consisted of those that either had gotten stuck in the rain, or were drunks that wouldn't let even the weather stop them from gulping down a large mug of golden sweetness.-

He himself didn't like to indulge in binge drinking. Maybe a mug or two just to loosen his mind from time to time, but the thought of drinking until one either passed out or pissed themselves truly disgusted him. Though he did had to admit that the food here was quite pleasant and appealing, even for Sunberth's standards.

Adjusting his shirt, he approached the counter lifting a finger in the air calling for the bartender. "I'll have an order of beef and potatoes please, oh and a half cup of ale hold the piss." He joked with the bartender gaining a smile. He turned his back to the counter-top, his front now facing the patrons that all sat enjoying their ale, food and company. It had been so long since he'd gotten to relax like they did. He almost couldn't remember the last time he himself actually went out on the city for something that wasn't business. Miza were a good thing to have though.

Glancing to his left, he noticed the young man sitting looking as if he were making an important life decision in his mind, or maybe he was constipated either or, the young adult sat next to him wearing garments that would make one very suspicious about him. If they were outside in the rain then yes he attire would make sense, but seeing that they were inside of a building and he wore a hood and cloth that covered his face raised more than a few flags in his mind. Casually glancing down, he noticed the paper in his hand. "The new one's are always easy to spot. I swear that old woman should give out a seminar on how not to stick out."

"Chasing folktales are we?" He spoke up loud and clear enough for the young lad to hear and know that he was being spoken too. "You think that they're gonna show?" he motioned to the paper he clutched onto for dear life. "You know, a lot of people like yourself show up here looking for them, chasing a legend, a myth. Spending almost all their lives, wasting time away in hopes of meeting them. I mean, it's alright if you believe in that kind of stuff, but me. I'm fine right here enjoying my time not out running around chasing a local myth." Just as he'd finished his sentence, the bartender returned with his meal and drink. Giving a nod of his head, he turned his attention back to the man to his right. "Cleff, that's my name." he introduced himself before saying a small prayer and tearing into his meal.

[Zen Tanka]

"Chasing folktales are we?" Came somewhere near Hanzo, causing him to raise an eyebrow. The thief didn't appreciate how the stranger was acting all comfortable in his presence. And even less that he knew what he was up to. Was it that obvious? The confirmation came several moments later, when the stranger continued. Hanzo listened carefully, although seemingly uninterested in what he was blabbering about.

It was true, chances of actually meeting them were as slim as one of the kids from the orphanage. That is, if they actually even existed. Yet, Hanzo had been facing slim odds his whole life, and here he was. With enough money to not starve, and with a heart still pumping blood. Better than that poor sob lying in the alley besides the tavern; throat slit and without even his pants left on him.

Turning his head lazily to the side, the thief replied. "If I can't reach out and grasp the shadows with my hand, I can't hope to achieve my ultimate goal." As he spoke, his hand extended slightly forward, only to grip thin air.

"Unlike people like your jolly self..." Hanzo added as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ...i don't intend to let this shithole of a town be the shithole it is, i intend to make a difference."

"Yet i pour from hollow to empty, not like you'd understand." The thief said with a tinge of bitterness in his impassive voice. His eyes dragged lazily across the counter, only to stop at the mug if his unfinished drink. "Anyhow, Cleff..." The thief said, letting the name roll of his tongue. "... my name is Hanzo."

[Anarkhos]

He listened as he chew upon the beef which seemed to be really tough for some odd reason. Maybe it was because he hadn't had the meat in a while and his teeth forgot the tenderness that once was, but either or, he listened to the boy that identified himself as Hanzo speak of grasping shadows and not wanting to let Sunberth be the way it was and as well as reaching his ultimate goal, what ever that may have been. After Hanzo finished speaking, he took the time to swallow, allowing his thoughts to gather for the appropriate response.

"And what is your goal? What do you wish to achieve by grasping this so called Shadow? Cleff took a sip of ale to wash the food down his throat. The warm liquid sliding down his esophagus lining his throat with sweet goodness. Cleff looked the boy up and down. He definitely looked the part of a shady fellow if that's what he was going for, but it was going to take more...A lot more to impress him. Plus with all the things going about in the city from seasons past, one couldn't just trust a man based on appearance alone. He took another sip of ale as he spoke again.

"You also say you wish to make a difference. What difference do you wish to make? I just don't understand what you''re saying kid. Here you are out here searching for a ghost because you don't like the way the city is, because you want it to change. If you don't like it, then move to another place. No one is stopping you. Cleff spoke added an edge to his voice now as he spoke. He leaned over getting closer to the boy's ear as his words now came to a soft whisper.

"And what can you do to make a difference? You can go around killing every bastard that has ever committed a crime, completely purge the streets of every evil being, run every slaver out of town, and you know what? Another bastard is going to show up to replace them. What then? You gonna kill them too right? Then another gonna come, and another, more and more. Then what? You're just going to keep killing?-

And what if someone figures you out? You look capable enough to take out a skilled man, two, maybe even three...Maybe. But what about a whole group? Let me ask you something, and I want you to think real hard about this. Even if they did exist, why would they come contact a guy that's siting in a tavern fully dressed in the most suspicious clothing who can't even feel when his miza's been stolen?"

Moving his hand, Cleff placed three of the man's miza onto the counter-top before leaning back to his side of the now awkward bubble that they shared. Giving a shoulder roll, he stabbed his beef with his fork before tossing it into his mouth chewing casually before taking another sip of ale. He sat in silence awaiting a response from the boy. It was at this point that he would see what kind of person he really was, the strength of his spirit.

Knowing from experience, Cleff suspected the boy to do one of three things. He could get up and leave, completely discourage, he'd either get upset and want to fight over the stolen miza, or he'd probably just sit there dumbfounded and confused. There was a slight chip on his shoulder now though from the lads words that caused him to speak out again.

"There's three types of people in the world. Those that give a damn, those that don't, and those that make sure the other two stay that way. Which are you? What do you think that myth you're chasing is about anyway?"

[Zen Tanka]

Hanzo's eyes darted towards the few coins Cleff placed in front of him. Were they really his? Although tempted to check, his hands never left their place. Even though he was in fact surprised, he did not let it show, the mask helping him in that. "Impressive, you just pulled off the first thing kids learn 'round here.'' He snorted, every word drenched in sarcasam. ''However, i ain't bound by morals, good bad, or any of that nonsense, it would be hypocritical of me to want to purge crime."

Saying that, his fingers coiled around his mug, only to raise it over his mask. Ale passed trough the thin fabric, leaving a damp circle on its surface as he lowered it down again. "If you get what i mean, those coins weren't even mine." He noted, gesturing towards the three stacked mizas.

His green eyes scanned the man sitting next to him. No, if he had to guess, he would say he wasn't... Then again, if he was, Hanzo wouldnt mind a fight to get the blood running on this cold night.

"You want to know about my goal?" The thief asked, although not waiting for an answer. "Can you see them?" Came his second question as he neared towards the man, lowering his tone down to a whisper. "[b]I can spot one of them amongst a hundred of people.'' He added, gesturing towards two, men sitting at a table at the far back. One of them was bald, middle aged, and obviously drunk. The other one, younger, was picking his nails with the edge of what seemed to be a small knife, not far off from the other when it came to intoxication.

"It's in the way they walk, the way they speak, the way they carry themselves...'' He said as his voice trailed off.

His right hand moved to rest on the handle of his kusarigama, hidden from wiev by his cloak. If he was wrong, there could be blood. Lots of blood.

"My goal, is to destroy them." He paused. "The Daggerhand.''

"They are worse than the slavers, and if one were to resist, they would slaughter them and their family, as they did mine.'' Hanzo said, voice ever cold and impassive. His eyes focused on the man, waiting for any form of sudden movements, or the glint of a blade. "And why do i want to grasp the shadows you ask? I believe that our interests colide. He answered plainly. "I think they could use someone of my, skillset. And i could use some help in my, lets call it quest."

''How do they say, crows of a feather murder together?"

[Anarkhos]

The boy's answer did quite humor Cleff for a moment. Hm? A cocky bastard are we now? Okay, lets just see how well you can back that up." He thought to himself as he began downing the rest of the ale from the first mug, he took a breath as to get himself into character. "Child's play huh? Hehe, and if these weren't yours to begin with, then you wouldn't mind me taking this." Cleff added as he held up the boy's bag of miza which clinked as it bounced in his hand. It was one thing to be confident, but another to be cocky. Cleff hated cocky, it made one sloppy, less aware. Being cocky is what got his brother killed. But if the lad insisted, then who was he to stop him. Cleff taunted as he quickly snatched his second pint of ale while twisting about away from the boy as if he were drunk.

An arm lifted into the air hoisting the golden liquid high, a gesture used to gather the attention of the drinkers that now began to enter the tavern. Summoning the air from his belly, he let out a loud belch. Oi! This ere lad be feel'in mighty generous I tell ye truth! He says all drinks on em!" As suspected the crowd of men all let out a shout of agreement before the boy could object, rushing to the bartender ordering pints by the arms full. A sly smirk upon his face, the man took his see back down next to the boy as he enjoyed his ale.

"Now, enough with the games." Cleff spoke now putting a more serious tone in his voice. It was one thing to insult his intelligence, he was a humble man, didn't care much for the words of a man, but the actions. It was another thing however to insult the intelligence and dedication of everyone in the Night Eyes. "Let's get one thing straight. We don't need you, nor you set of skills that you think you have. If you truly think that our only existence, the only reason that we put in all the hard work that we do is to kill some drugged out half bit gang that couldn't even stop an assassination, then you're just as stupid as they are."

There was a tap upon his shoulder as the bartender slipped him the a piece of paper with the total of everyone's order of ale that made him raise an eyebrow. It was cheaper as he expected. Taking the boy's miza pouch, he tossed it to the bartender without any care as to how much he overpaid. It wasn't the boy's miza to begin with according to the lad, so why not. "And another thing, if you're joining the Night Eyes just for some cockamamie scheme to kill the Daggerhands, then you might as well put that piece of paper down and walk out of here while you still can. Ha! And if you really think that they'd just up and help you on what ever quest you have, then-."

Cleff couldn't contain it any longer as he slammed the now empty mug onto the counter nearly shattering it upon the hard surface. He despised people that saw the Night Eyes as some call service of some sort. They had bigger problems to worry about rather than letting some guy join because he wanted revenge. Sensing that his anger was about to get the best of him, he took a breath to calm himself. No longer looking at the boy, Cleff held up two fingers. "Hanzo, I'm going to ask you these two question one more time and depending on your answer, two things can happen. One, we finish these drinks and proceed elsewhere, or two I walk out that door leaving you to chase your ghost."

Taking a pause, he let the comment sit in the air so the boy knew that this was a serious matter. There are three types of people in the world. Those that give a damn, those that don't and those that make sure the others stay that way. Which are you? That was my first question. My second question is, what do you think the Night Eyes are about?"

[Zen Tanka]

Hanzo's hand moved to his hip, only to notice that the pleasant weight on miza on his belt was, strangely, gone. He couldn't believe that he, a thief himself, was being robbed in front of everyone at the tavern. While true, that the miza from the pouch were not quite his, it still irritated him to a great extent. He stole the money fair and square! "Bastard..." Hanzo thought to himself as his eyes stood glued to the brown bag, one that, after exchanging hands, would surely never be seen again.

From the loot, his gaze fell down to the yellowed out piece of parchment. He eyed the number inscribed on the surface with contempt, this was going to leave a hole in his budget. "Food is overrated anyway." He joked silently, snatching the paper.

His attention was then caught by Cleff when he started talking yet again. He could see it in the way his voice changed. Clearly, this was no longer a friendly chat to pass the time while one ate or drank his ale, it turns into something much more serious. The atmosphere around the two men changed as he continued speaking. However, Hanzo caught up something important as he spoke. 'We don't need you.' This meant several things.

Firstly, the Night Eyes were much more than a mere myth, or folk tale. As he thought, they existed. Secondly, the man that was sitting next to him was obviously one of their members, or maybe associates. However, just because he said 'we' doesn't mean that the either of the above might be true. Yet he spoke with a tinge of anger boiling underneath his words. The boy stood silent as Cleff continued, soaking up every word with more interest than before.

As the sound of mug against wood boomed next to him, instinctively, the thief's hand reached for the handle of his weapon, only to halt before drawing it. As soon as Cleff asked the two questions, Hanzo replied. "My father was one of Syna's knights. However, he fell in love with one of the worshipers of Rhysol, a poisoncrafter she was. She, my mother, felt the same way when they first met, and not long after, they've decided to abandon their lives, and build a home here."

"City of freedom and what not. Somewhere where the knights couldn't reach them." He chuckled, somewhat in a dark way.

"The funny thing is, that they were incinerated by that very same band you mentioned." The thief said, before answering. "Out of the types of people you mentioned, I guess I am the first type, the one that cares. Otherwise, I wouldn't be talking to you now, wouldn't I?"

Hanzo took a glance towards the window to his right. The rain seems to have stopped.

"And to answer your second question, I believe that the Night Eyes are the ones that are trying to keep this city true to what it really is. Not some damn war zone where the Hands and the rest of their lot can play kingdom, murdering anyone that raises a voice. Or at least that's what I think."

[Anarkhos]

He listened to the boy's response. It seemed that he'd gotten the point that he was no longer playing any games. He had to admit that he was surprised by the boy's response. Most new recruits would've said that they didn't care, that they were in it for themselves. It seemed that the boy may have been smarter than he looked. Now it was time to test his skills.

Adjusting his clothes and fetching his cloak, he eyed the table with the two men the boy suspected to be daggerhands. He spoke no words to the lad, as he slid two daggers from his side checking thier quality before placing them back into where ever he'd pulled them. "Good, that means you're learning something. Now, stay here and wait for my signal, then catch up with me. Got it?" Not waiting for the boy's response, Cleff up and left the counter taking a lap around the room.

"Aye! James, that be you mate? He let out pretending to be drunk again. "Man have I miss-missed you mate. How be the wife and kiddies?" Of course he did not know who this man was, nor if he had a family or not. He only intereacted with the man because he was also here on a job. Playing his drunken front very well, he twisted his body causing himself to flop foward over the table in a heap. Tilting his wrist, he let the white colored powder run from the container strapped to his wrist into the man's drink unnoticed.

"Agh! Get out of here ya damn drunk!" The man who obviously wasn't James let out giving the man a hard shove. He let the force of the push send him back into the table of the Daggerhands, causing their drinks to tip and run onto the floor. "Ha! I truly d-do apologize for that there m-mate" One of the two men angrily stood up snatching Cleff by his collar. "What's ya jest mate?" the man started before his partner stopped him. Giving Cleff a hard shove onto the floor followed by a good kick to the side, the two left the tavern.

He layed on the floor longer than planned, wanting to play the role well enough to pursuade anyone that may have been watching before picking himself up. "Bet you'll watch where you're going from now on huh ya damned drunk!" The first man who shoved him let out which caused the entire tavern to burst in laughter. Cleff looked to Hanzo, gently tilting his head, signalling for the boy to come. The man laughed wildly as he took a swig of ale from his now tainted cup. Tears began to form in his eyes from his excessive laughter before his laughs began to turn into choking sounds and gags.

Standing to his feet, Cleff casually walked out the door whilst the attention was on the now choking man who now lay face flat upon the table dead if not close. "Now that's out of the way, we can get down to business. I want you to listen, and listen closely. If you want in, you have to prove yourself of use. As of tonight, you don't know anything, you haven't seen anything, you can't remember anything from this night. Consider it a test of some sort. Understood? Oh an before I forget." Digging into his pockets, he pulled out a brown miza sack, tossing it to Hanzo. "These are yours. The one's I gave to the bartender belonged to some drunk that tried to steal my drink once. He was there running up a tab, one that I want him to see him pay with that sack of rocks I switched his miza pouch with. Before we get started though, any questions?"

[Zen Tanka]

Hanzo's eyes stood glued on Cleff's back as he made distance between them, approaching one of the tables. He wondered what the hell was he pulling out right now. A moment later, he called out one of the men at the table that served as a makeshift bed. Although he knew that he was just playing drunk, this was so because he spent the last several minutes in his company. If that weren't the case, he would probably had been fooled like the rest of the tavern that observed the situation.

The boy didn't quite understand why was Cleff taking on the beating, what was he trying to accomplish? The signal he mentioned came in the form of a subtle motion with his head. As the Foot was filled with a chorus of laughter, the thief raised slowly, directing himself towards the exit, following after Cleff.

As Hanzo made way towards the exit, the tavern's inhabitants raised their mugs in his direction cheering. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance at this, remembering that we was now lighter for an unenviable amount of miza. Amongst the people that cheered in their benefactor, there was one that didn't. From the corner of his eye, he caught the bent visage of the man Cleff addressed with James. He was on his knees, with his hands on his throat, obviously choking. However, nobody seemed to notice as he fell to the dirty floor. Realization hit him as he remembered one of his mother's lessons, one that he wished he paid more attention now. If he had to guess, Cleff put on the show to poison him for whatever reason.

As he exited the warmth of the Foot, Hanzo was met with the pleasantly fresh air of the desolate street. Small murky ponds were now scattered over the road, filling each dent and crack. The light of the inn made each separate cobblestone block give out a glossy shine.

Stepping to the side, Hanzo neared Cleff, listening carefully to what he was saying. He knew better than to go out blabbering what he knew about the organization he was trying to get into. Furthermore, he kept himself from intoxication, thus, spilling out anything was improbable. As he expected, there was some sort of test to prove himself.

One of his hands snapped to catch the brown sack. Cleff's explanation drew out a smile from him, more so that the beg felt pleasantly full. "No questions." Came his laconic reply. "If said test includes something to do with those Daggerhands, better not waste time chit-chatting, it will be hard tracking down anyone at this weather."

[Anarkhos]

Good, well let me bring you up to speed." He spoke as they rounded a corner behind the two men from the tavern. "The guy I poisoned back in the tavern was a snitch. He'd gotten hold of some information that wasn't meant for everyone's ears and ended up blowing our whole operation. We where supposed to intercept a shipment of the new drugs that's being pushed into the city by the Daggerhands, but they had got word of it and split before we even realized what had happened. However, these two lovely men we're following are heading to pick up another delivery of drugs. We need to steal that package, if more of that stuff get's a hold of the people of Sunberth, then the Daggerhands could possibly control all of the city with it."

It was a mouthful yes he knew, but at the same time, he wanted the kid to know what he was getting himself into. This wasn't some small petty theft or spy mission. This was life and death. The wrong move or assumption of a situation could put you six feet under, or even hanging from the gallows. They turned another corner as they now walked down a long narrow street. There weren't any people out or about, just the four of them. Cleff, Hanzo, and the two Daggerhands.

"C'mon, were running late, the ship is probably here by now." One of the men spoke out making the other quicken his strides as they walked. "Petch" He thought to himself not wanting to run after them and blow their cover. "Hold off." he whispered low under his breath to where only Hanzo could here him. "Shit, change of plans. We will pull less attention to ourselves if we move separately. Meet up at the docks, go."

With that being said he took off down an alley, running at full sprint into the darkness of the patheway. he didn't like to just leave the kid out by himself, but this was a special situation. Even if he had to do this alone, the job was going to get done.