Private Tales Spanner in the Works

[Israhm]

​

LAZULAR
Breniva Alexin

A murder was not difficult to plan or to execute.

As long as everything went according to plan. Now that? Making sure things went according to plan? That was a problem. Usually some kind of chink or complication would be introduced into the works. The metaphorical spanner that sends everything crashing down. Luckily for Israhm, things were going fairly smoothly this time around.

He had planned this killing for the last two weeks.

Khabir, Merchant Prince and a grand horse-flesh trader. Apparently when you were a successful trader you made enemies easily. Ambitious ones that really wanted your head.

Usually Israhm would make the kill up and personal. Verification purposes. But this killing seemed to be personal. He was supposed to set-up a kill and be gone by the time Khabir had returned to his estate. It was an odd request, but they were paying the bounty for it so... why not? The estate itself was practically empty this time a day. The servants were celebrating one holiday or the other at the markets, the lord of the house was gone to the steps to check up on his horses, so when Isra slipped into the building?

He could practically stroll once he got past the magical enhancements.

"Never trust magic in lieu of physical eyes, buddy..." Muttered to himself as he slipped past a second layer of wards. While walking, he looked through the goods, trying to find anything worthwhile to grab.

Sure, he wasn't a thief, but that didn't mean you couldn't pick up a little thing here or there, could you?

 

[Breniva Alexin]

Israhm would find the path more or less picked clean by the fair and talented hand of Breniva Alexin. Her fingers had allowed her to get through locks, push open latches, and pick clean any trace of gold or silver or sparkle on her path to where the real prizes were to be found. Still, she added a silver bracelet, a gold cuff, and a amethyst-encrusted brooch to her messenger bag on her way.

The brass and tin she left behind. Not worth the effort or added weight.

The young noblewoman was far from home, but adventures tended to do that to a person. She found her way to the main bedroom of the house and -- letting out a low whistle there -- it did not disappoint. Golden goblets, some with traces of wine. Jewels, some in jewelry, some loose. Gold coins. Silver chains.

"Can't take it all," she reminded herself as she began to prioritize. Gold first -- obviously -- easier to liquidate. Jewels, too, but they had to be good ones. Diamonds and emeralds and sapphires before amethysts and topazes. Her fingers traced over a pile of loose gems she had spread over the rich brocade blanket. "Are you a ruby or a garnet?" she puzzled under her breath as she held one crimson stone up to the light. "Ah -- "

Footsteps. Soft ones.

Breniva ducked into an open wardrobe and pulled the intricately carved wooden door to. Who else had the same bright idea that she had? She was dying to find out...

Israhm

 

[Israhm]

Breniva Alexin

The deeper Israhm explored the estate, the more gloomy his expression was getting.

A thief was on the prowl.

This was a complication.

He had considered snatching one or two fancy items. Bobs and ends which would make the owner confused, but not so shocked by its brazenness that the murder wouldn't occur. This though? Picked clean and there was no mistaking a plain-viewed robbery.

It made everything far more complicated than it had to be.

He entered the bedroom quietly. Scanning the room and brows furrowed. It seemed that the thief didn't get to the bedroom just yet.

Odd.

Were they still in the house? He resolved himself to be very careful. But it was also a mystery he'd have to solve another day, because a job was a job. Walking up to the bed the assassin spread out his working tools on top of it and eyed it.

"Fuck me..." He muttered as he immediately had to discard half of the tools on it. How do you create a kill box that looks like a freak accident when the owner is already on high alert because he just got robbed?

 

[Breniva Alexin]

Bren watched through the intricate lattice work of her hidey-hole as the man who entered spread his tools on the bed. She grimaced and covered her forehead briefly as his movements disturbed the sorting she had done of the loose gemstones on the bedspread.

The young thief pulled her dagger from the sheath on her belt -- just in case -- and tried to push the door open without causing noise. The hinges didn't creak, thank goodness, and she was able to creep out of the cupboard silently. She turned and tried to pick her way silently across the carpets to the door. But something was calling to her. Something was pulling at her.

The gems.

It wouldn't do to leave them. Not when she could just as easily take them. Besides, whoever this man was he didn't seem that interested in the jewels. Perhaps they could reach an accord and, if not -- well, she still had her dagger.

She turned back to him, several paces behind Israhm now. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to sort those? Now I'm going to have to start all over again."

Israhm

 

[Israhm]

Breniva Alexin

He froze up in his movements when that foreign voice filtered into the room.

Slowly, cautiously, the assassin straightened out.

Hidden away from her sight? His fingers curled around his wicked knife and quietly pulled it out. She wouldn't see it, but Israhm was ready... for any eventuality.

"I wouldn't know, I don't do much thieving." The calm voice responded in return as his eyes scanned the room. Pity there wasn't a reflection in sight that would give him a view of the woman behind him. He'd have to assume she was armed.

Luckily she still seemed some paces behind him... that could be an advantage.

"But your thieving is a right pain in my arse right now, ma'am." Israhm finally continued. "Since it is hard to stage a kill job as an accident, if your mark is on high alert because they were robbed."

 

[Breniva Alexin]

Bren let her eyes travel appraisingly up and down the back of the man in front of her, canting her head to one side. Her dark hair tumbled down one shoulder as she examined him. Subtle movements. Reaching for a blade? She took another half-step back, the soft of her boots barely a whisper on the luxuriant carpets.

"Sounds like a you problem, if I'm being honest," said Breniva, her voice sounding absent-minded the fingers on her own knife flexing. "Then again -- for the right price I could be persuaded to put the goodies back and clear the way for your hit. Say, half? And for that price I would also thrown in my silence."

She waited for him to turn around so they could discuss the proposition.

"So who are you after?" she asked curiously. "And what did he do to deserve such a grisly fate, hm?"

Israhm

 

[Israhm]

Breniva Alexin

He grimaced.

Being blackmailed in the middle of a kill job. What a fucking disaster. Was there anything else he could do here?

Kill her.

"I could cut your throat. That will keep you silent just as well." He murmurs sweetly. Even still Israhm didn't make a move. And a professional doesn't talk when he wants you dead. Bren would know that just as well as Isra did.

The fact of the matter was that it would be messy.

Would he be able to clean up her body and then set-up the kill? Isra doubted that. It would be too much of a hassle.

"Half? Nice try. Ten."

That was a good sign. It meant the killer wasn't planning on just offing her after the job was done. After all, you don't negotiate with dead meat.

 

[Breniva Alexin]

She scoffed. "You'd have to be getting paid a hell of a lot if you think I'll go for ten. Look at this place. Stuff in here worth hundreds of gold coins. That's not even counting the actual gold coins that are just laying around. I don't get out of bed for less than two thousand gold coins, I'm sure you can understand that."

The young thief twirled her dagger around her finger carefully. "Besides, you know you're getting a lot out of the deal. Not only am I not going to ransack this place and tip off your target, but once we part company I also won't go to the city watch and tell them I saw a blond-haired, blue-eyed man about yea tall -- " Bren gestured with her hand " -- stalking into the house with a knife. Think of the value."

She tossed her blade, snatched it out of the air by the handle.

"Now -- how about, say... forty five. The value, my friend, the value. It's a bargain at twice the price."

Israhm

 

[Israhm]

A slow growl exuding from him.

She had him on the ropes.

They both know that.

Israhm couldn't just stab her to death without having to clean out the rug afterwards. And he was loathe to give his word and then go back on it afterwards. It might be cheesy, but it was something the man at least tried to reasonably hold himself to.

If you had no rules whatsoever? You were as good as an animal... or a nobleman yourself.

"Thirty five and that's the last offer I will make before I lose my patience." And only there did Israhm turn around... revealing one heck of a sharp-edged knife in his hand.

He held it loosely, almost elegant, with just a breath he could send it flying right in her pretty fac-

No, no, that wasn't a good plan.

"You are in the house of Khabir, one of the illustrious Merchant Princes of this fine city." And then he shrugged answering both her questions after the haggling was over. "Don't know, don't care either. I scratch off names, I don't ask for their biography."

There Israhm sheathed his knife.

It was still close enough to grab if need be, of course.

"You in or you out, pretty lady?"

Breniva Alexin

 

[Breniva Alexin]

When it became clear that he -- probably -- wasn't going to stab her, Bren hauled herself onto the long credenza and slowly crossed her legs, her leather armor creaking slightly as she settled. Her feet made lazy circles in the air, but she didn't sheath her blade. Not yet.

"You really just kill anyone for money?" she asked. Her slender fingers found a delicate gold chain on the top of the credenza without looking. She looped it around on the surface, gently swishing it in a way that looked absend-minded, but in reality she was gathering information through touch: the size of the links, the length of the necklace, the quality of the gold, the value.

Of course, there was an argument that she was no better; she was a thief, after all. But stealing bits and bobs -- fine, jewels and gold -- was a lot different from taking a life.

"I suppose if he is a Merchant Prince of this city, that is evidence enough that he deserves whatever he has coming," she mused in her slightly lilting Vel Anir-posh accent. Her dark eyes studied him for a moment, then she uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. "Are you part of the -- what's it called? Assassins' guild?"

Israhm

 

[Israhm]

Breniva Alexin

"Kings, merchants, vagrants, children, babies... sure, why not? As long as the price is right."

His face was impassive, but... something about his tone suggested he had correctly identified her surface feelings about his occupation and was currently taking the piss on it. "S'far as I am concerned few if any people truly 'deserve' being murdered for money. That ain't my business. Good, bad, middle o' the road. All that matters is the price."

And he gestured around the room.

"This guy certainly has enough power he made a ton of enemies in his life. Each one of them willing to pay the price to see him cast down and replace him."

Isra shrugged.

Then in a year's time their rivals would pay him to assassinate them in turn. That's really how things went, here, there, everywhere as far as the assassin was concerned. He had not yet encountered a city or even a nation that operated different from that.

"Guild?" There Isra made a face. "No, I freelance. Bit more dangerous, but also means I don't have to split my prize with some administrators in a rat hole, doing nothing but skimming off the top."

First time he actually chuckled.

"Don't tell me you are part of the Thieves Guild."

 

[Breniva Alexin]

The young woman studied Israhm carefully for a moment, her dark eyes curious. But when he mentioned not being part of the guild, those narrowed, curious eyes widened with surprise and alarm. "You're -- freelance?" she echoed incredulously. She looked left, then right, then pushed off the credenza to approach him. "You can't -- do -- that. Not here! Are you insane?"

She locked eyes with the man as she felt her pulse begin to race.

"You can't operate in Guild territory without paying for the privilege," she informed him earnestly. "Equivalent to what their cut of the fee would be if you'd gone through the Guild. The added benefit is that they don't fucking kill you for going around their authority."

The rules were similar for thieving -- a price that Breniva was resigned to pay, though she wasn't happy about it. The hands of offending thieves that decorated the underground taverns in the city showed that the alternative was that much more expensive.

"Gods -- now I'm part of your folly, too. What kind of amateur are you?"