The Brass Rose [Aurin]

[Rune]

60th, Searing, 123

Though Valencia had seen the redheaded man who was a member of both the Railrunners and the Myshalarai most recently, Eshar knew more of him. They both had him marked, each in a way unique to them, and if Eshar was jealous of Valencia's version it was only because Aurin had asked for it and received it fully from her hand. The connection Eshar had was more tentative, a bond that was not yet fully formed. Of course, Eshar and Aurin had shared a good deal more kinds of intimacy that Valencia and he had, but it wasn't a contest, so no one was really keeping track.

Both leaders were significantly older than their faces gave away, but, when ones face and body remain young, one doesn't age, mentally, in the same ways as those whose lifespans follow the normal patterns. The previous leader of the Myshalarai had died in the events of the 34th, so, Eshar was filling the role until someone else suitable could be found, or promoted. Similarly, while the lich-leader of the Railrunners could not be said to have died, since he was already dead, he also had not shown himself since. He might have reached final death, though that was unlikely, more likely he had taken the opportunity to extricate himself from the matters of the living and moved on, or entered a long slumber. Either way, the outcome was that Valencia was currently running the coven. Unlike Eshar, however, she intended to keep the post for the foreseeable future.

Despite their desperate personalities, goals, and even looks, the pair were known to be amicable generally and even friendly, on occasion. Currently they sat at the same table that Eshar had when they had first met Aurin, or, at least one that appeared the same and was in the same spot. Conversation between them was not constant, but wasn't stilted.

Outside the rebuilding of The Menagerie was as similar to the original building as could be managed. Likewise, the Coven Market was, to some extent, reopen, though not all of the Covens were operating to the same extent that they had once been. Much had changed, but, walking into The Market, one could at least imagine they had not.

The mission that Aurin had been on to explore the rumors of an odd new village, and possible cult or new coven, in the north had been completed and a message had been waiting for him upon his return asking that he meet with his two mentors the next day, or to send for for a later date if he needed time to recover.

[Aurin]

The roads were long, but most places were a mere step away for a Railrunner of his power. Of all his tricks, traveling was the one he held in the highest regard. He didn't joke about it, didn't diminish it; perhaps that was due to the way it had been earned, and the way it had been taught. Two had been etched upon him with only the most dubious of consent, one had been transactional, beguiled out of a godling to help protect a dangerous artifact. But Valencia was his teacher, a person who had invested herself in him, and he didn't truly know how to handle that. Eshar was a godling themself, and he thumbed his nose at them to prove he wasn't the victim of the long grifts of the divine. But as he swaggered into the Menagerie, a smirk on his face to receive the looks of admiration and gratitude - they knew who had saved them from the Mists - the edges of his mundane illusion grew brittle.

Aurin sat at the table across from teacher and god as if he were their equal or more. With a showy snap of his finger, a bubble-like ward came into being around their table. It muffled sounds coming in so only a strident call would catch their attention, and the same going out. Their conversation would be private - barring any expert lip-readers - but they could call for more drinks at will.

With his back to the door, Aurin's senses sembled all around. He could afford to seem unconcerned; his senses were keener than if he had actual eyes on the back of his head.

"A man knows he has made it when two lovelies demand a date with him at the same time," he drawled rakishly. Somehow, he managed to walk the knife's edge - it might be hot or, barring that, it would at least be amusing. Of course, Valencia hadn't taken their relationship to that level; he supposed that could muddy the student-teacher relationship, although he felt as though his power at traveling was beginning to match hers, if not his skill. And Eshar, well, Eshar was a creature of desire and pleasure, and it was rare for Aurin to escape their presence without a solid fucking.

"Or did you just want me to kill someone for you...?"

[Rune]

The looks of gratitude and appreciation rippled through the wide common room that took up the entire ground floor of The Menagerie. Not all of those who had benefited by his hubris and sacrifice yet knew him by sight but those who did told those who did not so that a wave of curtsies, bows, nods of heads and other shows of respect moved out from Aurin's entrance in a quiet wave. That he was there on business wasn't something anyone questioned, and one did not interrupt a Myshalarai with business when they entered their sanctuary so no one approached, but some looked as though they wanted to.

Neither of the ones who waited at the table for the redhead flickered an eyelash when he pulled up a ward around them, it was to be expected, though, in that place, perhaps unneeded, neither of them said so. Neither of them had survived so long in the hostile environment of Zaichaer by being offended by the over-cautious.

Valencia's expression flickered into something long-suffering over its normal non-nonsense facade, but there was a careful affection in her nearly colorless eyes. Eshar flashed him a wicked grin that said they were in love with the idea of him without actually being in love with him. Being delved by both of them at once, something that he might have been able to stop if he had wanted to, or might not have been, was an experience in itself. Their auras were so desperate as to be nearly direct opposites, at least, on the surface, there were themes that ran in the same directions deeper down and neither put up barriers to stop his own delving, should he choose to go digging. At least, not much of ones, everyone had secrets.

Valencia examined his aether reserves, seeing how much they had expanded with the much greater quantity needed for Traversion than he had ever needed with his other runes (except rarely with Negation), then ran several of her aetheric senses over the Rune she had given him itself, as though she could tell how well he was progressing from that. What she found seemed to satisfy her and a pride that was somehow hard and solid began to diffuse through her aura.

Eshar examined him all over but gave special attention to the scars that the Mists had left on his mind and his soul. While their aetheric touch was lush and wanton, like being groped, everywhere else, over the tender, still healing places, it was surprisingly gentle.

When this set of greetings without words had been completed Valencia thanked him for coming, the sweetness of her voice, which matched her pretty young face, was always a surprise to those who knew her well. Eshar just winked.

"Thank you for coming," Valencia, it seemed, was going to do most of the talking, "I hope your endeavors in the north were fulfilled. If not, they may need to be put on hold for a time. We have asked you here for a duel purpose, as the temporary heads of our two covens. Though,"

Her face softened a little from its all-business demeanor and her mouth curved,
"I am glad to see you again. The short of the matter is that you have earned positions of greater than initiate status in Railrunners and Myshalarai both." She paused to look at Eshar so that the other leader could confirm her statement with a nod.

"It is traditional in both our covens to give someone a task to perform to prove their ascension to higher rank, and though neither of us believe you need provide proof thus it would still sit better with everyone if we at least made a token nod to tradition. However much we have, at time, chaffed under the rulers of Zaichaer, we are still Zaichaeri."

Eshar made a 'sort of' gesture with one hand but didn't interrupt.

"Separately, we, along with the heads of several of the other most prominent covens, have come to some decision as to how we would like the power struggle that Zaichaer is currently undergoing to end. There are those who would would improve our rights as witches, which would be preferable, and those who would maintain the previous status quo, which would be acceptable. There is one faction, however, who we believe would not benefit our kind and, as a group we have come to the decision to eliminate them."

Valencia stopped there and turned, again, toward Eshar, who seemed to accept this as their cue to take over.

"That's where you come in, duck." Their tone curled around the words and made them sound as though their meaning was entirely outside the context of the current conversation. "I could send one of mine here," They waved a hand to casually take in the entire building, "But most of my best are still recovering and some are dead."

Their face twisted slightly, though it said this was more an inconvenience than something to cry about,

"The ones who survived and remain unscathed have already got their own jobs, besides," The wicked smile was back, "I like the idea of it being you who does this one."

With one sharply raised brow they passed the information dump back to Valencia who seemed a little miffed, as though Eshar had been intended to say more, but picked the conversation up anyway.

"The Covens are offering you a contract." A packet of papers in a large envelope appeared between them, or, more likely, was simply revealed between them, on the table. It looked identical to the one he'd been given when instructed to kill Vigilant Rickter. "The purpose of which is two-fold. As a Railrunner you are being tasked with retrieving a considerable amount of information, which is being held by the Government in Exile."

She respected his information gathering ability too much to believe he needed an explanation as to who the group was so she paused again for Eshar to take over.

"And as a Myshalarai," They purred, "You are being hired to kill General Overmann." The word 'kill' was sex in their mouth, glinting sharp off their teeth.

[Aurin]

As a self-proclaimed 'bad man,' Aurin gathered that he was never going to be able to come to the Menagerie without getting laid if such was his desire. But he was fortunate in that he was one of the few men living who looked good wearing smug like a mantle about his shoulders. Here, his swagger seemed entirely justified. He had saved the coven, and he had saved the coven's patron deity. If he and said deity had spent time out of time licking their emotional wounds, nobody else needed to know that. Hero was a mask he could wear with aplomb.

"Of course, I came," he chided Valencia behind the safety of his own wards. A man who boasted of no tethers, he had risked everything for a coven that had only just recently and with many reservations allowed him into their confidence. He winked at her, code for 'glad to see you too,' though who knew if she would read it as such.

"And here I thought you just wanted a wild romp and to roll the dice for my babies," he scoffed, opening the packet and examining it with what was an almost terrifying focus if one could see that gleam in his eyes. There was a feral glint in his eyes when he looked up from the intelligence, glancing first at Eshar, whose pleasure in the idea of murder struck a disturbingly similar chord within him, to Valencia, who was practical or ruthless depending on one's perspective.

"I assume with how quickly word of his death will travel, you don't require his head or his junk on a silver platter to prove my effectiveness." He shut the packet, though he would study it with something akin to obsession if he chose to take this job. His lifeblood is fairly black and white—or scarlet, anyway. What information do you require? He's got Order flunkies, surely. Some of the few not sucking your precious Science Minister's brother-in-law's half-elven cock, in fact. So they will be running scared, attacking with prejudice, and on alert what with your precious First Minister eating high-ranking cunt for allies among the powers that be." He was terrifyingly well-informed at times, or at least well enough that his slanderous conjectures couldn't be easily tossed aside.

"But yes... what information do you require, and what do you offer as payment. I'm not the easy peasy little slut who gutted a Vigilant to join your little clubs."

[Rune]

Eshar's sharp grin sharped further,

"No proof required with this one. We both know it wouldn't be half as much fun to only pretend to kill that fat, old bastard." Leaning closer over the table with flirtatious malice and deep eye contact they added,

"Do it slowly, brother. You know how much I like it when it's slow."

Their platinum companion rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance at what she considered unnecessary foreplay and continued with the instruction.

"The General had with him copies of a significant number of important documents, some of a mundane nature, others highly sensitive, when he went to oversee the execution of the war with Kalzasi. While that wasn't an important detail at the time, now, with the destruction of The Presidium and, presumably, most, if not all, of the documentation within, Overmann's copies are likely the only ones remaining. At least of some of them. While The Presidium may, at some point, be excavated and some things may be recovered, having access before that time is preferable."

Valencia waited a moment for this to be absorbed but it was a short one, Aurin was, if anything, sharp.

Eshar raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the suggestion that Aurin was no longer an easy slut, but allowed Valencia to continue without additional interruption.

"As for payment; the covens both have prescribed payments for jobs of differing levels of difficulty and you could receive the gold, if you wanted it. Additionally, you will be raised into the highest ranks of both, directly below the current leaders."

She did not say that she and Eshar were currently heading the Railrunners and Myshalarai, and they might not be, but if they were not, then they were certainly of the very next rank, which would make Aurin their equals, at least as far as coven politics went.

"If the call of power and gold are not enough to tempt you," Here Eshar made a face that spoke volumes as to the nature of such temptations as might be on offer, "You can name your price."

A single white finger was held aloft to halt any wild requests,

"That is not to say that anything you ask for will be granted, but we are willing to listen and negotiate quite far, in this case."

[Aurin]

Aurin merely nodded, but when Eshar asked for it slow, his smile sharpened as well. No doubt Valencia was less than pleased at how well he and his fellow Myshalarai got along, and he had to wonder how much Valencia knew about their own personal minor Mistlord. He knew she was older than she seemed, as was Eshar. He was the youngling at the table, but they needed his help. They would have it.

"I will need to know which documents," he reminded them. His mastery of the Railrunner's craft was such that he could open portals and shove any and all documents he found into a private pocket of the void and then escape once the murder and larceny were done, then return and let others do the work of hefting it out of his magical storeroom. He had even considered taking Torin's basement out of space, so those hiding there, and those things hidden there, would be well and truly out of reach. But that was for the future... "And, I suppose, a ranking of the documents in terms of how important they are. If it's a mobile library, the set up will take up more time. And I don't know what your time frame is."

This was a job made up of two jobs, and he had to know priorities in case things went sideways. Most likely, the general's death was priority number one, but it was best not to assume.

"And I'm not that greedy," he said waving away his earlier challenge. "Monies and influence will do nicely. Although, I would also like you," he continued, looking at his teacher, "to do what you can to ensure my name remains uninteresting to Angevin. I'm not trying to do anything to endanger any Zaichaeri citizens in general, nor the covens either. But I'd like to remain chummy with Dornkirk.

"And I would like you," he said to Eshar.

His innocent smile was patently false. But negotiations for how much of Eshar he got could be conducted at another time and place.

[Rune]

"We do not know everything that Overmann has, so any and all documents, books and dossiers collected may be of great value, or of no value, but that is not your problem. There is a list of the highest priority items, though if you have time to go through them enough to locate specifics you could instead take everything and let us sort through them later. That being the case, we are willing to pay a premium, per page for documents, and per volume for books."

Valencia, of course, knew that Aurin could quite literally shovel armfuls of documents into a Traversion bolthole and just open it to dump out at her feet later, should he so choose. It was one of the reasons he was being asked. As much as the two covens were willing to work together their actual initiates almost never overlapped into each others' work. This was one of the things that maintained their peace, but, in this case, it would be easier and less complicated to hire Aurin for both the assassination and the information gathering together.

The white witch tilted her head a little at them mention of the two highest ranking members of the contingent that the two seated before Aurin had decided should win the little civil cold war that was quietly raging through Zaichaer. Of course, Kavafis would know of all that, but how much did he know? It was worth discussing. Later.

"Part of the payment I intend to render," She informed him, "Is a significant amount of information as to the new settlement of Zaichaer, as we intend it. Your ingratiation with the Dornkirk Contingent can certainly be an addition. Would be a useful one, in fact." Her calculating mind was obviously cataloguing Aurin's interest, adding it to her own plans and readjusting the rest of said plans to the addition.

While this was happen behind Valencia's eyes, Eshar, who had begun to look a little bored again sat up straighter. Their shoulders moved in an age old implication of interest that somehow seemed to imply the flashing of cleavage, despite the lack thereof, or possible lack thereof, it was often quite difficult to tell.

"All you had to do was ask." Somehow this sentence sounded like 'and we could discuss payment afterwards', as well as 'sometimes payment is part of the play'. "It really has been quite an annoyance not to pull you into my home whenever I think of you." The pout, which only lasted a moment before the lusted predatory expression came back, implied that human freewill was almost too much to be borne.

Valencia looked between the two, with consideration rather than the usual annoyance, but continued the discussion without asking any questions.

"When you do return," It wasn't polite to make it a question for either Railrunners nor Myshalarai, "If you do wish to take up a higher rank in the Railrunners, we will need to spend some time both training and familiarizing you with our ways. I intended to do this before, of course."

But then the 34th, then the disaster, then the losses. She looked at Eshar who shrugged as if to say that if Aurin needed to learn more about the Myshalarai he could do so by participating.

"The location where Overmann has holed up, as well as the officers and Order members most likely to be with or near him are in the details you've been given." Valencia nodded to the dossier.

"If you need anything before you begin, ask. Otherwise, it would be best if this was done as quickly as possible, there are other agents moving, to various ends, none of which are working for us."

[Aurin]

"Understood," he said, and knocked back his drink. That done, he stood and gathered the dossier for study. "I have a... hm... would-be apprentice back in Kalzasi. Would make a good assassin, so I might bring him around at some point in the future. Gotta give back to the covens, eh?" He nodded to the pair and departed.

Of course, later, he vaulted into Eshar's chambers, playing some sort of line about heavy balls making it difficult to think clearly. So he did quite a bit of his study naked on satin sheets.

Ernst Klein was just another soldier exiled to Kathiid while General Overmann waited for whatever intelligence would galvanize him to march them back to Zaichaer where they belonged. There were enough soldiers that nobody knew all their names and faces, and he was friendly enough that he didn't have much trouble wending his way through the ranks. He also seemed quite accustomed to Kathiid's culture, and so he moved around the city with less friction than his brothers-in-arms. As such, he was able to case the "temporary" camp, as well as the buildings offered to Overmann and the more important members of the Zaichaeri contingent by the obliging oligarchs of Kathiid.

He learned patrol schedules. He located the cache of documents. He made friends.

That night, he was going to "flub" the assassination, make a scene, make his date, and then abscond with those documents. But Overmann was already a dead man walking, those members of the Order still loyal to him were congregating elsewhere, and the chaos he left in his wake would make it all theatrical enough to please Eshar, who he assumed would be watching somehow, and perhaps even inspire something for Kathiid's stages in seasons to come. Or perhaps the Pfenning if it ever re-opened, a nice cover for Railrunner dealings.

When that night came, he found himself climbing out one window of the building where Overmann lived to scale the wall two stories to where Ernst Klein would have no reason to be, no reason to pass the guards without killing them. That was an added challenge, but one he relished: murder his mark without any collateral damage. It was more elegant, more masterful that way.

He was just glad he spent so much time on Kalzasern rooftops with Rivin and hadn't let Traversion become such a crutch that he couldn't climb a wall when the need arose. The need had arisen. Even if Overmann didn't have a huge assortment of Order mages, he had some sort of artefact that prevented teleportation within its sphere of influence.

And so, he proceeded the old fashioned way.

Once he was inside the proper window, he perused the documents on Overmann's desk. Finding nothing from the list he had memorized, he swept them off the desk in a flurry of papers, then went about making a quiet mess of the place looking for expensive or interesting souvenirs to steal until such time as Overmann came to bed.

[Rune]

Valencia had given her protege an approving nod as he got up to leave and that had been the end of their communication concerning the job.

Eshar had been waiting in their room, which was not warded, at least, not against him, wearing only their best; a wicked smile.

After they had both been relieved of a significant amount of pesky fluid they had even stayed, rolling over to straddle trim hips and dig their expert hands into what muscles had remained tense through their earlier activity. The demi-god had a propensity to lick the sweat from the long line of their lover's spines and Aurin was certainly no exception to the indulgence.

When the redhead was clean(er) and tense(less), with a head full and balls empty they had left for whatever it was they did when they weren't with Aurin.


~~~
The thing of it was, the general didn't seem to have a plan, or if he did, he kept it close to his chest. Those in his inner circle seemed to believe that he believed all the rumblings of governments beginning to form within Zaichaer would fall apart, if given time, and he could swoop into the gap they left to claim his rightful place as High Marshall. It hadn't seemed a bad plan, at first, but now the Mist spawn were, somehow, gone, and the Shadows had also stopped spawning and there were coalitions forming that had real power. It was now becoming obvious that General Overmann was either choosing to ignore these facts or had a plan that somehow was not effected by them. There was some grumbling from the soliders who at first had been relieved to be away from all the horror but were not feeling as though they were sitting well-fed and totally safe while others took the risks and the glory to save the vaterland. The idea did not sit well with them and it wasn't at all difficult for Ernst Klein to discover that they would likely use any viable excuse to desert and find their way to a commander who would let them feel useful again.

What the members of the Order thought of the situation was significantly harder to suss, as almost none of the enlisted men were willing to have conversations about them at all. One or other of them could be seen at times entering or leaving the building that was being used as a command structure, but none stopped to chat with any soldiers.

There was no particular reason to suspect assassins, saboteurs or even thieves so the security was not especially tight. It was still a military complex, and the men assigned guard duty weren't lax, but there weren't that many of them. On the night in question, Overmann's personal office, which led on to his bedchamber, was empty. He seemed to hold a great deal of meetings with his higher officers and the Order, and there was talk of his planning a re-invasion. But there had been such talk for the entire year and more since the disaster had broken Zaichaer and, so far, nothing had come of it.

As such, Aurin, or 'Ernst Klein' has a free run of the place for almost twenty minutes before the outer door opened and in came a young woman in a tidy uniform that was military but somehow also feminine. Perhaps that was her figure, which was full, or her make-up, which was lovely. Whatever the cause one got the impression that while she might be able to take short-hand notes of dictation or meetings that wasn't the reason Overmann kept her around.

To add to this idea she began unbuttoning her jacket as soon as she entered the room, undoing the first several buttons of the shirt under it before she noticed the unexpected visitor. She blinked at him, then noticed the mess he'd made of the office. Freezing she watched, wide-eyed as a startled deer for a long moment before glancing back at the door she had come in from. There were two other doors between her and the nearest armed guardsmen. The calculation was plain on her face; could she make it before he caught her? Would he chase her, or attempt to simply escape?

All of this flashed through her aura, because she was good, very good. But Aurin, he was better. His Semblance took almost the whole time she was unfastening her buttons to pierce her false projected aura and see what lay behind. She was Order, and though she might actually have been Overmann's lover, she was also his bodyguard, his protection, his knife. She was probably reading Aurin in turn, looking for who and what she was, but what she would find would depend on what he, himself was projecting.

[Aurin]

Perhaps he should have worn Overmann's face and form instead, but he hadn't gotten close enough to prepare a reasonable facsimile. She was good, but he was better. While he might have bought her a drink had they met at a bar, they were meeting where he planned to do a murder and she was Order besides. Valencia was working with them to some extent, but she wanted Overmann dead so she wasn't going to fault him for this. Of course, he had intended for there to be no collateral damage, but ... well, perhaps he could manage. While she tried to make a quick calculation of him, he was extending his glamour. Klein seemed to stand still in shock and terror while, unseen, his knife spun toward her.

His initial aim had been her throat, but at the last minute, he readjusted his throw such that, barring any sudden movements, the hilt would hit her between her lovely eyes. He didn't mind terribly an audience. He was, after all, laying out a dramatic mise-en-scène. She just had to be unconscious, which was more difficult than dead.

But even as the knife went flying, he gathered himself and sprang toward her, invisible to the eye and leaving behind the image of himself - of Klein himself - behind to hold her attention. Even his footfalls were silenced. Time almost seemed to slow down, but surely that was his version of a battle fervor. The excitement of a job, of being powerful, and holding life and death in his hands was a heady cocktail.

Whether the hilt struck her unconscious or the blade struck a mortal blow - or some other eventuality - he would be closer to putting his hands upon her. Not for the first nor the last time, he wished he had demanded the voice trick from Arry in exchange for the glamour trick. It would have been easier to play her mind like a puppeteer. He could even have compelled her to play out a farce for him with Overmann, used her hands to kill him. But whatever happened, Eshar wanted it to linger, and Aurin could be such a generous lover when he wanted to be.