Private Tales Smoke & Mirrors

[Cenric]

Cortos - Barcion
The old decrepit townhouse seemed to creak as Cenric stepped up to the window. The ancient floorboards so rotted out and ancient that he half thought he was about to fall through.

Not that he wasn't used to it.

Half of his bodies were scattered in one shit hole or another. Sleeping on ragged beds and uncomfortable sofas while subsisting on meager meals. Which was to say, he was rather used to it. As uncomfortable as the sauna of a townhouse was, it served as delightful cover for their little operation here in Barcion. Though he would have preferred something with feathered beds, he'd no doubt the Red Cloaks would have quickly found them if that had been their choice.

"There she is." Cenric called out to his diminutive companion. Gesturing for Marcia to join him at the window.

Normally he handled this sort of business on his own, but the Vigilite had had other ideas this time. Apparently his work with Livia had caught some attention, and thus the High Inquisitor had set him to do more than his usual killing. Not only was here to do a job, but a bit of recruiting. He was to convince the young Initiate to join the Vigilite once her time at the Academy was up.

A path that not many Dreadlords considered, given the rather underhanded nature of their work. "That is High Selarch Alma."

He said, motioning to the palenquin being carried below. The silhoutte of an elderly woman just barely appearing behind shifts of flowing laced silk.

"Our target." Cenric mused for a moment as the High Lady and her guards walked by. Each of the twelve soldiers were a deep silver armor covered in Crimson Cloaks. Swords sat on each of their hips, and bright silver shields emblazoned with a burning sun sat upon their arms. Men who were clearly ready to kill.

Men they would have to get through.

 

[Marcia]

When opportunity came knocking, there was no choice but to open the door.

Or at least look through the window.

She approached Cenric as he gestured to her, the floorboards protesting less under her slight frame than they did with his. Marcia could see herself faintly in the glass and felt the instinctual split happen as she siphoned her soul into her reflection. She stood in two places at once, both eyes seeing the same thing, until her mirror image diverged and stepped aside to get a better look.

"Too good to use her own legs then," the Initiate commented with obvious disdain.

Marcia noted their quarry with a preliminary glance before moving on to her entourage, who the girl scrutinised with a deepening frown, noting the brilliant sheen of their armour. Heavily armoured foes weren't her forte, actually quite the opposite, so the idea of contending with them out in the open gave her reservations.

"The guards," Marcia began, getting down to the meat of the matter without the unnecessary pissing about, "what do we know about them?"

Obviously, she did not mean if they liked the smell of rain on the earth after a dry spell, but more in terms of their capability as combatants. Were they mundane in the way basic soldiers were, or were they, as she feared, adept at battling those who wielded magic?

 

[Cenric]

She asked questions, that was a blessing.

Half the Initiates he dealt with were as thick as bricks and decided the best strategy was to simply throw themselves at whatever stood in front of them. It worked for most of them, granted, but not in Cenric's line of work.

"Red Cloaks." Cenric said, using another one of the dozen interchangeable names the Guard had for them. "They're the elite of the Church. Not members of the Solar Choire, but each one is at least mage-touched."

Not capable of casting spells, but enhanced with the flows of arcane. Usually strengthened and made faster, though many had other talents. A few even meant to fight Dreadlords specifically. "Hard to tell how these ones will be. They're all different. The High Selarch is important, so they'll have some of their best guarding her."

Cenric frowned for a moment.

"Perhaps we'll have to test them first." He considered, stepping away from the window and letting the curtain fall. "Bait out one or two and thin the ranks, or, we capture one."

 

[Marcia]

Marcia remained silent as the Dreadlord answered her query, brown eyes skirting each of the Red Cloaks as her lips drew into a thin line.

The girl's chief concern was their ability to detect magic; the Initiate had enough faith in her abilities that she could get in and out undetected, with the High Selarch's throat cut from ear to ear, but if the presence of her reflection alerted the guards, then...

"I can do that; draw a few out," she finally replied, holding enough confidence in her abilities without being entirely too impulsive. "I could give them a pass with my reflection, see if any of them catch it, and then we ambush those who go to investigate."

A whisper of the unseen could be enough to send a couple their way; after all, they wouldn't rid themselves of the entire detachment, their core purpose being to escort their target.

 

[Cenric]

Oh good. Cenric thought to himself as Marcia volunteered to play bait. Ein's body wasn't exactly something that he wanted to risk getting recognized. Ten years ago his friend had ravaged three Cortosi Cathedrals.

He wouldn't have doubted if there was still wanted posters.

Had his magic not been the strongest Cenric had, he would have used another body. "Then we better get going fast."

The Dreadlord said as he motioned towards the ladder that stood in the corner of their little room. At the top stood a trap door which would lead to the roof-tops, from there they could follow the small procession until they found a good place for their ambush.

"Try to take just one." Cenric began as he pulled himself up and onto the roof. Offering Marci a hand as she reached the top. "The more go missing, the more they'll wonder."

He explained as they began to move along the roof tops.

 

[Marcia]

Understanding the urgency, Marcia followed the Dreadlord to the rooftops, where they could follow the procession unimpeded.

There was a balance she found, caught somewhere between deference and initiative, that, more often than not, helped the girl stand out in the eyes of her betters. Too much craven compliance and you risked falling into the trap of being an unremarkable burden destined to third-level mediocrity. On the other end of the scale, if you were too headstrong and overconfident, you were a reckless hindrance who risked life and mission for the sake of ego.

She chose measured risk and sought opportunities to volunteer when the moment was right.

From her pocket, she retrieved a small hand mirror, having avoided taking her large steel buckler that might as well have beckoned every eye on the streets towards her with its glare.

Staring into the reflection, her mirror image diverged, climbing down from the rooftops invisible to the naked eye as her main body continued moving with Cenric. It had taken a long time to get to this point, to control both bodies in tandem. Heeding his words, her reflection carefully stalked the procession, waiting to see if the presence of her magic behind them would cause a head or two to turn.

If not, she would have to get closer.

 

[Cenric]

"Qura." The word slipped as a whisper from one of the Red Cloaks, and two heads turned. Both walked at the back of the procession, one carried a heavy staff while the other kept a blade upon his back. The latter seemed to shift, and then break off from the group.

Cenric stopped almost immediately, the palanquin continuing forward with the other Red Cloaks as the lone figure seemed to linger.

"Got one." Cenric said as he motioned to Marcia. "Bring him into that alleyway."

As he spoke, Cenric quickly knelt low. Motioning for Marcia to the same as the Red Cloak with the staff turned his head and panned his gaze over the roof tops. As he searched, it was obvious that his eyes held no iris or pupil, but simply appeared as a pale white.

He searched for a moment in silence, and then continued his stride as the man whom he'd ordered back began to search the streets for the source of magic now on their tail.

Cenric tensed, waiting for Marcia to lure the man to the alley besides their building.