Elbion was her favorite place to hunt in. Hundreds of shingled rooftops piled on top of each other. Dark alleyways and ruined buildings left behind in the aftermath of the Great Dragoning of 370, and despite it all the city's beautiful, well-educated civilians had still not learned to keep their belongings close. Maybe is was the warm night air that blew in from Amol-Kalit. Maybe it was because everyone here was magic, and magic people didn't believe that crime could happen to them.
Unfortunately for the elite of Elbion, Abandon happened to everyone.
Everyone with a contract on their head, that was. Three of them in this district alone. An assassin couldn't walk through the market square without running into someone that somebody else wanted dead. She had her pick of the place, and Abandon had picked Professor Inalius Pedore. A disgusting little man in fancy wizard clothes. She wanted to bat that stupid professor hat off his round head.
She wouldn't. She was a professional. Instead, Abandon walked down the busy daylight street at a casual pace and a shadow that was the appropriate size and shape for someone of her stature. If she had counted his footsteps right, Prof. Pedore would be rounding the corner and she would be rounding the corner at the same time just about... now.
The shoulder bump was amateur. With a sheepish smile and a squeak of apologetic air, Abandon side-stepped away from a collision with Prof. Pedore and passed neatly behind him. Her hands followed the draft of their clothes, slipping under a cloak and into a pocket. In her fingers glinted ever briefly, a shiny thing, and then it was gone underneath her own red cloak. Prof. Pedore pushed his stupid hat further down his face and leaned in against a gust of dust that kicked up from the street.
At the next corner, she slipped into a nearby alleyway. Red cloak darkened to black, and her outline was hard to decipher, embraced as she was in that maternal darkness. The key, though, the key was shiny silver. Abandon flicked it upwards to show it off, held between two fingers. A cat's grin spread across her face as she looked to her hunting companion. (Of course assassins of the Church could work together on a job. Only barking dogs like Diaz and true, moon-born lunatics like Love thought otherwise.)
"Told ya I could get the key."
Yarrow
Unfortunately for the elite of Elbion, Abandon happened to everyone.
Everyone with a contract on their head, that was. Three of them in this district alone. An assassin couldn't walk through the market square without running into someone that somebody else wanted dead. She had her pick of the place, and Abandon had picked Professor Inalius Pedore. A disgusting little man in fancy wizard clothes. She wanted to bat that stupid professor hat off his round head.
She wouldn't. She was a professional. Instead, Abandon walked down the busy daylight street at a casual pace and a shadow that was the appropriate size and shape for someone of her stature. If she had counted his footsteps right, Prof. Pedore would be rounding the corner and she would be rounding the corner at the same time just about... now.
The shoulder bump was amateur. With a sheepish smile and a squeak of apologetic air, Abandon side-stepped away from a collision with Prof. Pedore and passed neatly behind him. Her hands followed the draft of their clothes, slipping under a cloak and into a pocket. In her fingers glinted ever briefly, a shiny thing, and then it was gone underneath her own red cloak. Prof. Pedore pushed his stupid hat further down his face and leaned in against a gust of dust that kicked up from the street.
At the next corner, she slipped into a nearby alleyway. Red cloak darkened to black, and her outline was hard to decipher, embraced as she was in that maternal darkness. The key, though, the key was shiny silver. Abandon flicked it upwards to show it off, held between two fingers. A cat's grin spread across her face as she looked to her hunting companion. (Of course assassins of the Church could work together on a job. Only barking dogs like Diaz and true, moon-born lunatics like Love thought otherwise.)
"Told ya I could get the key."
Yarrow
