Open Chronicles Blades In The Dark

[Aila]

Alliria - Inner City

Aila slowly flipped the knife in her hand, the blade slowly rolling over her fingers as she glanced over towards the nearby Palace.

There were more than three dozen guards that she could see. Most of them seemed to be wearing armor, some better than others, though all at least had a cuirass. What they couldn't see were the men that the Merchant Councilor Neril Lambath had hired in addition to those that usually guarded him. Mercenaries from the East, one of the Forsaken had learned the day before.

Aila knew almost nothing about the east, but from what she understood these mercenaries were quite something, and there was even rumor that a Wizard had taken place among their rank. "What was the name again?"

She asked softly.

"Black Dawn."​

The answer came from one of the other Forsaken. Aila did not know his name, she didn't know any of their names. It was never worth learning, never worth trying. None of them were here to be friends. Just to do as they were told.

"Okay." She answered softly.

Black Dawn. It was an ominous name, though Aila knew better than most that names rarely meant anything at all. She glanced up towards the moon, judging the time to it's apex. "Ready?"

She asked the others as the knife fell into her palm.

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir leaned nonchalantly against a nearby wall pressing his back as deep as he could into the shadows. Their whispers filled his ears but he paid them no mind. He paid nothing any thought in truth so focused was he on the job at hand. There was only a small group of them sent on this mission - why waste more than what was needed? It was a costly adventure making a Forsaken even if the people of Vel Anir seemed to give into their cardinal sin enough to fill ranks of potential.

Dressed in a long black trench coat with a hood he could pull up and over his face to hide his horns it almost appeared as though he were a shadow as he moved. It was only exemplified by the fact all of his clothing was the colour of darkness. The only hint of colour his skin and burning eyes.

The Tiefling had been in the city for a few days ahead of the rest of the group gathering further intel and it was he who offered the name of the company when asked. It had piqued his interest to learn of a wizard within the ranks. It would make the evening more of a challenge at least, keep his mind engaged in the activity. Increasingly he felt like he was moving through treacle when completing jobs. He lacked interest or care. He feared it would one day lead to a mistake just so he could feel something... more. Anything.

"I am ready," Kas confirmed. The tattoo of a blade that ran along his forearm slithered down to his arm and then formed a solid monstrous thing. His tail swished along the floor.

 

[TheScarletDastard]

"For the love of.... greenhorn!"

Dez started from his daze, turning his head about wildly. "I'm awake, I'm awake! Swear by the moons, sir, I-"

"Of course you're awake, you idiot!" the sergeant interrupted, growling over quiet laughter from the rest of the detachment. "You were whistling again, boy."

Grateful for the cover of night and a helmet to hide his embarrassed flush, Dez sputtered, "I'm sorry, sir, I really don't notice when I start. It's just so... quiet."

The sergeant scoffed. "Aye, we could have some noise. I could take that torch from you and ram it right up your-"

"Boy's not wrong, Reg."

The good natured lieutenant appeared, the rookie's rescue. He came to stand by the sergeant, the quiet clink of his plate armor booming like a brass horn in the silence. "We can all feel it. No wind, no distant clamor. Running the watch for Lambath is one thing, but standing out in the open while his sell-swords slink just out of sight? Makes me feel like bait. A pawn."

The sergeant grunted in agreement before giving Dez a dismissive "Feh," and stalking back to his post.

The lieutenant turned to face Desmonthenes. "I liked that tune. What was it?"

Still a little flustered, Dez shifted his grip on the burning flare in his left hand. "Used to hear it from the riverboats at night. Still wanted to be a minstrel, those days. Tried to learn every song I heard."

"Minstrel, eh?" The older guard turned to wander back to his post. "Well, give us what you remember. Anything's better than this blasted silence."

Watching him go gratefully, a chill ran down Dez's spine. Looking about the courtyard, and only seeing other guardsmen, the boy's eyes scanned the roofline. Was one of those Eastern mercs watching him right now? Or was it something else?

Trying to shake the feeling, he took a shaky breath, and let what he remembered fill the void around him.

"Silence is a stranger that I've never let inside. I hear him knocking, but I do not dare reply.
Gods know what he would say if I opened up my door, so I'll keep up this clamor so he can't tell me the score."

 

[Nathaira]

"Ssssweet boy..." Nathaira mused as Dez's melody floated past her ears and those of her fellow Forsaken. Her long tongue lashed out and tasted the air. It was rank with the typical odors of the city. Horse manure, human sweat, decay. "Little mousse..."

She hugged her thick leather cloak tighter around her lanky body. The cool night air was frigid to her, and she yearned to move into the warm torchlight of the palace. She would need to be patient, though. The Forsaken were rarely permitted to move outside of the shadows.

She drew out her daggers, elegant blades with gentle curves, and dragged them along her teeth. A thin sheen of venom coated the steel, finding purchase within intricate grooves. She crept low and moved like liquid to the front of the group, just next to Kasimir.

"At your command," she whispered to Aila.

 

[Aila]

Aila lingered for a moment more, slowly slipping the knife into her palm as she took a step to the left and touched Nathaira gently on the shoulder.

The serpent woman was one of the few Forsaken that she had worked with before, and despite the oddity of her...Aila had come to like her. The feeling was one she would never state out loud, one she couldn't, but it was there all the same.

A breath filled her as some of Natharia's magic was gently leeched away.

Aila's fingers began to change first, and then slowly he entire form began to disappear into the night. One could still see her if they focused, an odd haze within the air. "Kill them all."

She said softly, and then quickly jumped off the small tower and into the courtyard below.

Within a heartbeat of landing the Half-Elf dashed forward, the knife she'd palmed flying out from the haze of night and finding it's target in the neck of one of the guardsmen. The man reached up briefly, his partner about to speak his name when Aila's sword ran through his belly.

Confusion pulled over the man's face, as if he didn't understand where the sword that killed him had come from.

 

[Kasimir]

With the blade held loosely in his hand Kasimir simply stepped off the side of the building as if he meant to plummet to his death, a bored expression on his face. He landed with a slight bend to the knees before straightening and watching Aila go in front of him. It was always interesting to watch the others work; they all had twisted gifts after all. It was what had ensured they had survived the trials of their training. Had been the one in ten.

The shadows gathered around him until it was almost impossible to make him out in the darkness. He was the very essence of the night. He walked with much more calm than his Forsaken brethren as if he were out for a stroll on a pleasant evening. The large black dogs which roamed his body lurched down to his feet and then materialised out of the shadows as hulking black beasts. There were three of them. As they took shape they snarled and prowled forward, catching the guards attentions.

"Are they... are they Hellhounds?" They never got their answer.

Kas walked past them silently as the dogs went for the three men's throats without so much as a backward glance, the black blade still swinging from his hand as his side, the other in his pocket.

 

[TheScarletDastard]

"Solitude's an old friend from the other side of town.
When he comes across the river, I pretend I'm..."

Something had happened.

"...not around." Dez turned to see what he'd unconsciously registered a moment before; someone at the South corner had collapsed. Was it Reichert? Then that was Paulo beside him, hunched over as if he'd been punched in the gut. What was-

"Greenhorn."

There was no contempt in the sergeant's voice. Dez turned to see his superior standing beside him, gripping his battleaxe tightly and peering into darkness that the torchlight didn't dispel. There was someone, something there.

Dez heard the lieutenant coming to stand beside him, but didn't dare look away from the tall distinct shape in the void that had become three low shadows. An unmistakably canine threat was scraping against their ears, rattling in Dez's helmet. The lieutenant lowered his pike, and the sergeant asked him, "Are they... are they Hellhounds?" And just for a moment, the man turned as if expecting an answer.

That's when they struck.

As one flew through the air at the sergeant, his ax arced too slow to intercept, and he was slammed to the cobblestone, his frightened yells echoing through the courtyard as he tried in vain to throw the beast off of him. Anticipating the charge, the lieutenant managed to ram the head of his pike into the shoulder of the... wolf? that came for him. It did little to slow the onslaught, as the two immediately began straining against each other, and the lieutenant found himself outclassed in a contest of strength. His desperation was obvious in his voice as he shouted, "Sound the alarm! We're under attack!"

Desmonthenes made no attempt to draw his longsword in the moment he had before the creature was on him. Instead, he gripped his torch with both hands and leveled it at a hound so large, it didn't jump even a little to try for his throat. The young man less stabbed the thing and more helped it ram itself face-first into the blazing brand. Unable to slow its attack, the beast barreled into the boy, knocking him prone and scrambling to the side to try and shake the ashes from its eyes.

His side aching from the fall, Dez stood quickly to recover his dropped torch, drawing the longsword at his side with his good hand. As he did so, a shape caught the boy's eye. The light from the torch was casting a shadow across the courtyard; the profile of a tall man with long horns, walking casually across the the open space, a sword in his hand. A man who simply wasn't there.

And then the hound came again.

 

[Nathaira]

Vertical pupils turned to Aila, waiting for the word to strike. When Aila moved next to her and reached out Nathaira knew what to expect. Of course she could borrow a bit of magic, there was no point in being selfish. It would be so much more fun to stalk their prey together, invisible as the wind itself.

She closed her eyes and shivered at the sensation. Aila’s had was wonderfully warm at first, but it soon cooled to an icy embrace as her arcane abilities were siphoned through her skin. Not all of them, mind you, Aila was not greedy. She took only what she needed. Nathaira appreciated that about her from their previous forays. That, and her ghastly efficiency at murder.

Kill them all.​

Nathaira’s yellow eyes flashed open and she could not suppress a hiss from escaping her throat, fangs shining. She too lept from the tower, but she landed on a lower rooftop surrounding the courtyard, moving overhead. She heard the gurgling of slit throats and crumpling of armored bodies, and she saw Kasimir had sent the dogs out first thing. Precious beasts. Too bad they were about to kill the little mouse boy, she bet he would have tasted sweet.

Moving swiftly to the rear of the guard she leapt down. The chaos unfolding in the courtyard was more than enough cover for her footsteps, and she rushed forth to hamstring the nearest guard. He fell writhing, shrieking in agony as the venom-soaked dagger pierced his flesh. He had only moments before his body went rigid.

The dead man’s partner turned at his cries and swung a heavy blade at her, but she weaved beneath it and stabbed into his armpit. The armor there was weak, and he too fell quivering.

Yet a third guard turned on her, several yards away. He lanted a heavy shield in front of himself and poked out with a long lance. Nathaira tilted her head, her tongue flicking in and out as she simply faded from view.

The guard looked around in panic until she popped back into sight behind him. She wrenched his head to the side and bit deep into his exposed neck. The paralysis hit him quickly and he fell like a stone. Nathaira wiped her lips and cracked her jaw back into place.

 

[Aila]

Despite their best efforts, a few screams had been enough to alert the rest of the compound.

The sound of alarm bells began to blare out, orders were called out, and Guardsmen quickly came rushing down nearby stairs. Aila's face shifted, her sword spinning in her hand as she wrenched it free from the now dead man.

"What in the fuck is thi-"

Aila stuttered stepped forward, the haze of air shifting around her as the magic she had taken from Nathaira wore off.

A flash of fear and confusion flowed over the Guards face, but somehow he managed to pull up his sword in time to meet with Aila's blade.

"IN THE COURTYARD, INTRUDER!"

His voice bellowed out loudly, and Aila quickly slid her blade to the side. There was a flash on her hand, one of the marks on her flesh burning off as the magic was incited. Before the man could speak an odd black mark appeared on his forehead, and then he screamed.

"Nathaira!" Aila called. "Find the Councilor!"

She would hold off the guards.

 

[Kasimir]

Men were rushing past him. It always amused him how their mortal eyes only half saw him but the brain skittered over the fact he was there. Like it was protecting itself.

No adult wanted to believe demons were real and walking among them.

But as guards ran towards him not all of them made it past to help their comrades. The blade in his hand spun as he pushed it through one mans stomach, before it disappeared and reappeared in his other hand in time to slit a crimson smile across another mans flesh. When a third went to move past him he grabbed him by the throat with his free hand and with force picked him up and slammed him back down into the ground. The movement had taken Kasimir into a crouch - the first time his peaceful walk had been disturbed. The mans skull was flattened, the stones around where his head had landed broken and split. Brains and blood oozed down the cobbled path.

Kas stood and the blade vanished to reappear on his person. In its place he drew a bow. It was an ugly thing but the arrows were worse. As one guard went to help the boy who was fighting one of his dogs off he loosed. The barbed creation whistled through the air. It passed through one soldier who stepped into its path and collapsed, an arrow wound through his chest, but it didn't stop the arrow. Once it had been given a mark it only stopped when it pierced it. And pierced it did. The man fell back from Desmonthenes as if a punch had taken him off his feet. Even though there was a clear arrow wound however, the shadow had disappeared.

Kasimir tapped his fingers on his chin and debated what to do himself. Would it be more interesting out here in the courtyard, or with Nathaira? It seemed to be ordinary mortals out here which was more than enough for any Forsaken to handle on their own.

With a whistle he would walk after Nathaira and the Hounds came with him.

 

[TheScarletDastard]

It's always disconcerting when you run 4 feet of razor sharp steel down a monster's throat and it only seems to vaguely piss the thing off.

When the hound further skewered it's innards to wriggle forward and clamp it's jaws on Dez's forearm, two things happened. First, the upper fangs warped the steel plate of the boy's gauntlet, causing unforgiving metal spurs to dig into his flesh.

Second, since the boy was wearing a set of half-armor, the fangs on the lower jaw strained against the leather in his vambrace for about 2 seconds before sinking into his arm.

Crying out, Desmonthenes found himself fighting just to remain standing. He hunched over strangely to avert dislocating his shoulder. As his eyes darted wildly about, fragments of terror-inducing images filtered into his mind: Blanren being lifted off the ground by an unseen force, then slammed down hard enough to shatter his skull. Sergeant Reg, a red froth at his mouth, hardly even struggling anymore. Captain Treyo locking swords with a hooded assailant, screaming about intruders... and then just plain screaming. The lieutenant, blood soaked and somehow still alive, running to his young ward's aid. And then, in the same moment Private Utre acquired a new hole in his chest, being thrown through the air with a sickening crack.

I don't recommend getting beaten around the head with a lit torch while being simultaneously kicked repeatedly in the stomach by an adrenaline-fueled teenager wearing steel plated boots. The hound didn't seem to think much of the experience, as after giving Dez's arm a violent and painful shaking, it relaxed its bite long enough for Dez to pull his sword arm (and his entire freaking sword!!) out of the beast's mouth.

Desperately stumbling away from the monster, Dez heard a low whistle from further down, by the palace proper. The hulking shadows bounded off as fast as they'd come.

The sergeant was clearly dead. It was surprising his head was still attached. The lieutenant, however...

They were headed for the Councilor. Of course they were. But he had his mercs, and the Black Sun or whatever had been given fair warning by now. Chasing after those sellspells was just asking for death. For now, Dez would try to stop the bleeding. Kneeling beside his prone friend, he tried for a smile. "C'mon, Harper. You just became the commanding officer on-site. You can't black out on me now."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira whipped her head around at Aila's words. Her hood fell back and long, mossy dreadlocks flew about. Small rings of copper and gold flickered in them, and she absentmindedly sucked the blood off her fangs. Yes, the councilor, he was the true mission. Aila was more than capable of dealing with the rest of these buffoons. Only slightly disappointed to leave the courtyard and its flurry of activity, she sprinting off to the main gates, meeting up with Kasimir.

This was her first mission with the Tiefling (well, half Tiefling, but no one seemed to care much about his human side), but she had heard of him and read the reports of his missions with great interest. The darkness that surrounded him, the ease with which he pulled all sorts of tools and companions from the void, those fetching red horns... he was quite intriguing.

The palace was large, filled with no shortage of rooms in which the councilor could hide. Nathaira had discovered a fool-proof method for locating these rich targets, however. Just follow the guards. Men who had more gold than they could practically spend were always looking for ways to waste it, so when their lives were threatened they simply threw more bodies in between themselves and the knives aimed at their hearts.

Now, the Forsaken were professionals, they knew where the councilor would most likely be. His chambers were on the third floor, but the most secure location in the palace was the observatory. A tall tower with a single entrance, easy to defend... from the inside.

"Give a girl a lift?" she asked Kasimir, pointing up at the tower. He could simply toss her up on the wall, giving her a head start to a long climb. She was very light, and he looked more than capable of hurling her a fair distance. If she were lucky, though, he might have something in his shadowy bag of tricks to get her to the tower faster.

 

[Aila]

Aila righted herself, spinning the sword in her hand as Nathaira wandered back towards the Courtyard.

Her fingers tightened on the blade, and then a noise from down the corridor caught her ear. Her head swung, and there she caught the first glimpse of the Mercenaries that had been hired to Guard the Councilor.

Each one was dressed in thick black armor of overlapping platemail. Two of them carried large tower shields along with swords, while a third carried an odd warped bow. Half of a black sun decorated their shield and armor, and slowly they moved towards her.

Each of the soldiers moved in a tight formation, clearly trained.

Mage breakers?

Fingers tightened on the blade, and she flicked her hand low. Another mark softly began to glow, burning her flesh as she began to nearly vibrate.

As the soldiers moved towards her she couldn't help but wonder...where was the wizard?

 

[Kasimir]

Kasimir watched the woman in front of him rather than anything else, his hands had returned once again to the pockets in his trousers now he had 'sheathed' his blade. He offered no comment on the decision though in his mind he had made a full assessment of what he would do.

At her request he finally showed some form of movement and turned his amber gaze from her to the top of the tower. It was a smoothbrick, scaling it would be difficult but not impossible. He could see her thought patterns and though he was curious to see how she would managed scaling such a problem he had no intentions of caber tossing a fellow up the side of a tower. If she returned broken from his actions it would be more pain for him.

"As you wish," Kas bowed his head, his voice as dark and silken as the shadow that were his home. Silently a spider dropped from his horns on an invisible thread. It hovered by his ear before it vanished, dropping to the floor and the deep shadow the tower cast in the moonlight. Sudden the tower shadow shuddered and from it grew the spider until it was the size of a large horse. At the same moment Kas strode forward, grabbed the woman about the waist and hoisted her onto the inky beasts back. The shadows rippled for a moment and a keen eye would be able to see the floor through the form, but the creature was a solid thing. Kas swung himself up a moment later and then the creature lurched forward.

It climbed the wall at a speed, sticking to the shadows for as long as it could until half way to the window at the top where it was clear against the backing of the moon. If someone happened to be looking in the right direction for a split second, they might have seen the monstrosity.

Once it reached the open window it flowed away, becoming a part of the shadows that hugged the room, dimming the lights within to mask the twos appearance. Kas jumped down into the room first, before turning and offering his hand to Natharia to help her down.

 

[TheScarletDastard]

Initial prognosis was not good.

There was definitely some organ damage, due to the way Harper's ribs has shifted and cracked. There was as much blood pooling inside the man's body as there was spilling onto Dez's hands. Working feverishly to get the lieutenant's warped plackart off of him, Dez thought he now understood why every guardsman was instructed to carry basic medical supplies. That's a healer's job, he'd thought to himself in basic training. It's just more weight. Now he could've laughed at his own petulance, if he wasn't so panicked.

Harper's shock was beginning to wear off when his plackart finally came loose. As Dez worked a cotton wrap around the lieutenant's midriff, his mind started to allow him to process the pain. Aside from the clamor one expects when the leg of one wearing plate mail begins to shake uncontrollably, the screams were terrible to listen to. More pressingly, they were loud. Dez had not allowed himself to forget that one of the shadowy assailants from earlier was still here in the courtyard with them, standing in the south corner. If the night's proceedings were any indication, attracting her attention was tantamount to death.

Then there was a sound of rhythmic thunder, like an avalanche that had been mustered into the militia and taught to march. It quickly began to dissipate, and yet pervade the air more fully as time passed. Tying the bandage tight and looking around him, he finally processed what he was hearing. The mercenaries were on the move, their heavily armoured company fragmenting into smaller groups, spreading throughout the palace to intercept the assassins at every turn. The scattered beams of emotion refracting around the young man's brain focused into a hot beam of anger. Now they showed up. Of course. Utre bleeding out. Blanren an unrecognizable paste. Reg all but decapitated. Harper-

"Dez..."

The boy looked sharply at his prone friend. "Ya done screaming? Then don't speak. We're getting you out of here."

"Go... for help. Leave me..."

"I take it back; you're not commanding officer anymore. I hearby demote you to Head Latrine Scrubber and order you to stow it, moron."

 

[Nathaira]

”As you wish.”

Nathaira prepared herself for Kasimir to move towards her, to do… well, something. But he didn’t. True to his reputation, he was still, quiet, and reserved. She was unsure of what his intentions were until the shadow of the tower began to shudder.

She stepped back instinctively and watched as the great smoky arachnid swelled. Her face opened in wonder at it. How incredible, how delightfully macabre! So enamored was she that she did not notice Kasimir approaching her, and it took her by surprise to be hoisted up like she was no more than a feather. ”Oh..!”

She did her best to steady herself on the smooth carapace, but found herself leaning into her companion to keep her balance. This creature was fast! It soared up the tower, silent as the night from which it formed. Nathaira’s hood was blown back and she felt the wind rush through her hair.

They reached the window and their ride began to drift away. Nathaira tried to grasp at the diminishing creature, afraid that she would plummet to her death if it should vanish completely. She looked over to Kasimir in the window, ever the picture of calm. She took his hand with her own longer fingers and found herself pulled into the tower. She bowed her head as she entered, and if silence were not paramount at this point she would probably have made a joke along the lines of “why thank you, milord.” The very thought tickled her. As if any of them were within an arrow’s flight of nobility.

She replaced her hood and redrew her twin daggers. They were in a side room packed to bursting with scrolls, chests, and broken astrological equipment. She moved to the door and peered through the keyhole, vertical pupils opened wide against the dim.

There was a small army in there. At least two magebreakers in black platemail, a few other Anirian Guardsmen, and a strange looking person in a black robe with a long black staff. Behind them, near the observatory’s largest window, an old man paced back and forth. Sweat shone off his balding head.

“Listen to the screaming!” he exclaimed to the robed figure. “You lot are supposed to protect me, they’re being slaughtered!” His hands were shaking.

“You are safe,” the figure responded. It was strange, but Nathaira could not place the voice, nor say if it were a man or a woman who had spoken. In fact, after they spoke, she could not recall their voice at all.

She stepped back to allow Kasimir to take a look of his own. She could conceal herself with her magic and strike the councillor directly, but they would need a hasty escape or strong defense after he died and alerted everyone in the room. She whispered this to her shadowy friend. Perhaps he would have a better idea.

 

[Aila]

Aila would let her allies take care of the Councilor.

The two were more than capable of finishing the job on their own, and she would have her handful with other things. The half-Elf was vaguely aware that somewhere behind her a soldier still lived, her ears twitching as a promise of escape was rattled out.

Her head did not turn though, too focused on the four men in front of her. Aila shifted her weight, and then she dashed forward.

The armored mercenaries moved quickly, the two front men raising their shields and placing them against one another to bar her passage. Aila dashed forward, bounding up and using the tilted shields as a stepping stone to hop over and behind the men.

Her blade quickly found purchase in the third man, slicing through the nap of his neck and driving between the plates of his armor at his shoulder.

A scream echoed out from his mouth, the other two Soldiers turning just in time to have their fellows corpse kicked into their midst. Two knives quickly followed, flashing free from the belt over her chest and finding homes within the backs of the men.

The three corpses fell to the ground, and Aila landed at the doorway, her gaze turning directly towards TheScarletDastard.

 

[Kasimir]

Kas slowly bent his form so that he too could look through the keyhole, quietly making a note of how irritating it was that humans were naturally so short that he had to do so. Taking in the scene carefully he stood to his full height again and stroked over the stubble on his jawline thoughtfully. He had much the same thoughts as Nat, it turned out, as he listened to her hushed whispers. Killing the Counsellor should be relatively easy from this vantage for either of them, but it depends on the wards in the room and on the man himself. Magic might not necessarily work on him.

"We could try magic," he conceded with a tilt of his head towards her. "But with that many magebreakers in there I would wager magic will not work well. It depends if we want to risk it for the first shot and then deal with the repercussions, or if we just decide to go in full force from the offset." It was probably the most words the other Forsaken had heard him utter in one go. It was likely to be that way for the rest of their time together on this mission. Kasimir was a man of few words. He leaned against the frame of the door, his horns towered above the frame. Casually he pulled his sleeve up to examine some of the shadowy tattoos that crawled across his skin there; one of which was a coiled snake around his wrist.

"Perhaps, a distraction to lure some out here, then something to cause chaos. But, I bow to your judgement."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira nodded at his words, placing a hand on her chin in thought. Her tongue licked in and out, an unconscious tic of uncertainty. They were in a small room with no exit but the window they had climbed through. Luring enemies in here would corner them, but it would also not give their prey an escape.

A distraction seemed like a good idea. Perhaps Kasimir could come up with something to occupy the guards while she slipped in for the kill. Her amber eyes looked him up and down, wondering what other tattoos he had that he could call on. Unfortunately he was almost completely covered, so she would just need to trust that he had something useful tucked away somewhere.

She remembered how Kasimir had moved through the courtyard. He had been almost transparent, wading through shadow like he was only half-way in this world. She wondered how far that concealment could go.

"Alright," she whispered, "Let'ss lure them in here. When they open the door I'll ssneak through and make a disstraction near the stairwell, then kill the councilor. If you wanted to help draw their attention away I would be mosst thankful. I'll let you decide how to handle the fool who comess in here."

With a nod and a satisfied look on her face, she toppled a heavy telescope onto the floor. It clattered down with a thud and a shower of broken copper instruments. Before it hit the ground Nathaira had vanished.

"What was that? You, check it out." Voices came through the door. Approaching footsteps, then the door opened. A singular guard stepped into the room, and without a sound Nathaira slipped out behind him.

As soon as she set foot in the main room the hooded figure's head snapped towards her.

"There," they said in monotone. They raised their staff and a spray of frost shot out towards the assassin.

Nathaira's reflexes were quick enough to avoid the blast, but her invisibility dropped. Fuck.

"Kas!" she called and threw a dagger across the room. It landed with a wet thud in the neck of a guardsman, and he fell gurgling the the floor. She was only a few steps away from the councillor and she raced for him. She only had to scratch him with her blade, the venom would do the rest. She lept and stabbed, she was going to make it!

CLANG

Her dagger bounced off the councillor and she slammed into a shimmering barrier that had appeared from nowhere. She fell to the floor and rolled back to a crouch. The wizard was extending his staff to her target, shielding him.