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[prompt] finding the mark
Posted: Thu Jan 19, 2023 7:33 pm
by Paragon
5 Frost 122
Early Evening
Low City Commons
The tavern was not a fancy one but it was a decent one. The faces that were seen within it were familiar ones. It was one of those places that the same people went to, people who made a habit of finding the joy in normalcy. Common men and women, all who worked hard and did their part to support their local communities. Bar brawls were common enough among the more boisterous frequenters but it was never anything so rowdy that the Sky Guard needed to be called. Just tumble between comrades.
So it was that when Isolde entered the tavern, nobody thought twice. A few patrons raised their glasses to her, recognizing her face and certainly some of them recognized other parts of her.
“Here for your usual business, eh?” A thin human man smiled at her from behind the bar. He nodded to the staircase leading up to the second floor.
“Take any room you like.” Once taken, there was a room waiting for her. Inside that room was a man who was reclining in a chair with his boots propped up on the surface of a small table. His features were mostly obscured by a hood but Isolde would recognize his form easily enough. He was smoking a pipe while staring at a candle flame. Once she was inside, he waited for her to close the door. He waited for her to get seated before he took out a single small lorestone crystal. He passed it to her.
“Mine worker. Lives in the Low City. He made a deal with the Myriad and has been late on his payments. Now, he’s trying to flee the country. Word has it that he has arranged for passage on a caravan south toward Zaichaer. Set to leave tonight by midnight. Details are in the lorestone.” Her father took a draw in from his pipe.
“Make sure he doesn’t make it.” This was the standard process. Information as well as visuals for the target would be accessible in the lorestone crystal. All Isolde had to do was concentrate and tap into the energies of the crystal in order to perceive them. It was expected that once she had either memorized her mark or secured the job, she would destroy it completely.
Re: [prompt] finding the mark
Posted: Tue May 09, 2023 10:36 am
by Isolde
Finding the Mark 5 Frost
"Hey, old man." Her smile was lop sided and cheerful, amusement sparked in her eyes as she took in the man who was reclined back in the chair, his boots propped up onto the table. Smoke blew in her face as he exhaled, she grimaced, and waved her hand through the cloud of smoke until it dispersed. "Do you have to do that?"
His face was concealed by his hood, and as she stepped closer, his face became more visible. He was her father, her mentor, and her boss. All in one, technically. His training sessions were like torture in her opinion, she wasn't too fond of them, but it was training. So, of course she wasn't.
"Anyway, how have you been, father? Taking care of yourself?" She asked as she reached out to take the lorestone crystal from him, the surface of the crystal was cold. Her fingers tightening around the crystal to keep her grip on it. She moved over to stand next to the window, leaning her body against the wall, she held up the crystal to examine it.
"The usual," her father answered, inhaling the smoke from his pipe, before exhaling. The wispy smoke travelled a distance away from him before it dispersed.
"Hmm, alright then." She glanced from her father back to the lorestone crystal. It would have all the information she needed for this job.
Her removed his legs from the table, and stood up, moving toward the window. "Oh, and I want to see you on the 7th for your training. I will be waiting in your cottage... so do not bring any of your clientele back." And with that, Isolde watched him take his leave.
"You're the boss!" She deadpanned, saluting at him with a cheerful grin.
"Oh, lovely," she murmured sarcastically under her breath once he took his leave. "More training."
The Assassin held up the lorestone crystal. The crystal was blue and orange, the ornage candle light made it look much more orange than what it actually was. She needed to concentrate on the energy if she wanted to get this lorestone to reveal the information she needed for the job, then destroy it once it was memorised as per usual. She tapped the lorestone, concentrating on the flow of energy, she wasn't a magic user. So, meditating for lorestone crystals were a must.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, the face of the man she needed to kill implanted into her mind, and a bit more additional information she needed to get the job done. The man was balding, his hair a dark gray, and his skin a warm ivory, with a scruffy gray beard.
"James Lowe, huh?" She murmured to herself, the face of the man planted into her mind as well as the information she needed to kill him. "Fourty-three years of age. No wife no childern. Lives in the low city..." The Assassin pushed herself off the wall.
Time to get started.
She needed to make a quick stop at her cottage to change out of her current clothing. She looked like a prostitute, no weapons were on her person, either. She pursed her lips... father would add on an hour of training for turing up dressed like that. Oh, well. She wasn't expecting a job tonight.
*
The chilly air made Isolde shiver as it brushed against her pale cheek. What she wouldn't give to be in a lovely warm tavern drinking wine or entertaining a client right now. However, she is on a job, an assassin's job, which she thoroughly enjoys doing as well. She doesn't enjoy her training sessions with her father as much as her jobs, or nights out getting drunk in the local tavern.
Isolde was clad in her black leather armour, her two assassin's daggers were strapped to their usual place on her tighs with three throwing knives stashed in each black boot. Perhaps her father will have her train with shurkens in a couple of days, usually he trains her in few different things during a session. Probably stealth, and throwing knives.
She got to the south road early. The the caravan of her target would soon be approaching. And for majority of that time, Isolde has been sitting in a tree. Her back leaned up against the hard rough of the tree, and her legs propped up on the branch. She wondered how much longer her target would take to get out here, because the Assassin was growing rather bored of nothing to do. It shouldn't be much longer.
Isolde's ear twitched at the distant sound of horse hooves in the distance, steadily growing closer to her location. Her target was approaching. Her smile smile was wicked and dangerous as her head turned in the direction of her prey.
Black claws sunk into the bark of the tree, she climbed her way down, her boot hit the ground either a dull thud. Her footsteps barely made a sound as she inched closer to the main road.
She kept to the shadows, until the caravan came closer to where she was crouched down. The driver wouldn't see her, due to how dark it was. The horses were trotting, not too fast, so it would make it a bit easier getting closer to the caravan. Isolde jogged alongside the caravan, keeping her footsteps light and soundless. Pulling a throwing knife out of the back of her boot, she aimed for the driver's throat, and threw her knife. The throwing knife went sailing through the air, and hit her mark. Slicing through his throat, the driver gurgled and choked on his own blood before he slumped over.
Isolde jumped up onto the driver's seat, pulling the caravan to a stop by pulling the reins back. She pulled her throwing knife from out of the poor man's neck, blood sputtered out, and she wiped it clean of blood on his clothes, before stashing it back into the shaft of her boot.
Definitely not the most discreet assassination she supposed, though, she was working on it. It's hard to poison someone in a moving vehicle. Isolde jumped down onto the road, and a wicked smile tugged onto her lips. Like a predator stalking it's prey. She pulled the caravan door open, and immediately dodged to the side, a shout left her lips as a boot almost connected with her face.
What the fuck!" She hissed, much like a cat would. "The hell was that for?!" She knew why, but, she was just surprised that the old fuck almost kicked her in the face.
"I knew it! I knew they'd send someone after me!" A man shouted in paranoia. Waving a flimsy rusted knife, the blade was dull with rust around the edges, and pointed it at her. He didn't look particularly skilled in holding the knife, either. And, he should've tried to stab her in the face when he had the chance.
Isolde blinked, staring at the flimsy weapon, then at the man. A smirk tugged at her lips. It was James, her target. Bending down she pulled out a throwing knife, the same one that killed the driver. And aimed it at his hand that held the rusted knife, and then she threw it.
The throwing knife dug into the back of his hand, causing him to drop his rusted knife, and a pained scream erupted from his throat. Isolde closed the distance between them, while unsheating her dagger, and now closer to her target. Her assassin's dagger in hand, she slashed his throat open with little effort, and red hot blood splattered onto her face.
Isolde stepped to the side as her target slumped over holding his neck, and fell out of the carriage door onto the road. Isolde stared down at the corpse with a grin on her face. Leaning down, she picked up her throwing knife, and wiped it clean onto James' clothed back, before putting it away back into the shaft of her boot. Then she cleaned her dagger, and sheathed it back onto her tigh.
Isolde turned to walk away when she heard a scratching noise coming from inside the caravan. She turned, stepping past the body and stuck her head inside the caravan before climbing in.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
The scratching was coming from a wooden box sat on the floor. She was curious what was in it, and cautiously opened the box. A little black paw with white claws poked out, followed by a kitten's head. It was a kitten. A little black kitten.
"Aww, I'm taking you home with me." Isolde cooed to the kitten, it's blue eyes and black slitted pupils stood out from its black fur.
Isolde wasn't sure what breed of cat it was, but it was cute, and a cat, and so she picked up the kitten, and held it to her chest. She'll be keeping the kitten, it's owner is dead... and so, Isolde is the new owner. The kitten squirmed in her hold, and then calmed down. She stroked the kitten's head with her index finger before jumping out of the caravan.
Time to get going before any travellers coming from either sides of the road stumbled upon the murders she committed tonight. Isolde held the kitten, and headed on her way home.
Her job was done here.
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