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"When I thought I had felt everything, when nothing seemed to have a new flavor, when all colors became dull and gray... you came into my life."
Most women would have been terrified walking into that alley while a man followed right behind them. They would have gone into the tavern instead of risking being in the dark shadows of the small town on the outskirts of Vel Anir. Or maybe they wouldn't have, as thieves and highwaymen often visited this location, waiting around for a rich man to send a poor man to gather interest for a job that had to be quiet. Most women would have had more sense than to ask for trouble for cheating one of the merchants with desperate men acting as his private army.
Everleigh was more desperate than the man that followed after her. She was aware of the others, too, but it didn't matter if she got out of this with a full and heavy coin purse. She made a left, and he made a left. She felt the others stumble along from the right. She could imagine how they smirked, the glint in their eyes when they realized she was heading to a dead end. They must have thought her stupid. They must have thought her easy.
They had no idea that she was leading them into a trap. The smaller the space, the better for her to conserve her magic with only one spell to undo the group of men and their heavy, clopping boots. Couldn't Viktor the Frugal hire men who knew a thing or two about stealth? She supposed that when he had nearly fifty men under his employment, he never feared being cheated out of a card game. This town was his until the Guard began tightening their laws and protocols.
She came face to face with a wall, rats as large as her foot hopping out of the way from a bed made of hay with a forlorn and forgotten dead man rotting on top. The stench was something she was used to, having been around death far longer than any of Viktor's men blocking the only entrance and exit.
"You got somethin' belongin' to us." A momentary pang at a familiar drawl. She turned her head a little over her shoulder. "Hand it back and we won't hurt ya... too much." The man smiled, stretching out a long, thin scar from his cheek, over his lips, and ended at the curve of his chin. He coughed. The smell of the dead man was too overbearing. He brought a free hand to cover his nose, and that was when Everleigh jumped towards his face with a fist aimed against his hand, effectively breaking his nose.
She exhaled the breath she had been holding as the men behind him began to move into action. But it was too late for them. Everleigh preferred close-quarter combat because the purple mist from her parted lips didn't take long to spread amongst the men. One grabbed her throat, getting a handful of her cloak. Their strong grip weakened in seconds.
It was almost too easy, sometimes.
Alistair Krixus
Most women would have been terrified walking into that alley while a man followed right behind them. They would have gone into the tavern instead of risking being in the dark shadows of the small town on the outskirts of Vel Anir. Or maybe they wouldn't have, as thieves and highwaymen often visited this location, waiting around for a rich man to send a poor man to gather interest for a job that had to be quiet. Most women would have had more sense than to ask for trouble for cheating one of the merchants with desperate men acting as his private army.
Everleigh was more desperate than the man that followed after her. She was aware of the others, too, but it didn't matter if she got out of this with a full and heavy coin purse. She made a left, and he made a left. She felt the others stumble along from the right. She could imagine how they smirked, the glint in their eyes when they realized she was heading to a dead end. They must have thought her stupid. They must have thought her easy.
They had no idea that she was leading them into a trap. The smaller the space, the better for her to conserve her magic with only one spell to undo the group of men and their heavy, clopping boots. Couldn't Viktor the Frugal hire men who knew a thing or two about stealth? She supposed that when he had nearly fifty men under his employment, he never feared being cheated out of a card game. This town was his until the Guard began tightening their laws and protocols.
She came face to face with a wall, rats as large as her foot hopping out of the way from a bed made of hay with a forlorn and forgotten dead man rotting on top. The stench was something she was used to, having been around death far longer than any of Viktor's men blocking the only entrance and exit.
"You got somethin' belongin' to us." A momentary pang at a familiar drawl. She turned her head a little over her shoulder. "Hand it back and we won't hurt ya... too much." The man smiled, stretching out a long, thin scar from his cheek, over his lips, and ended at the curve of his chin. He coughed. The smell of the dead man was too overbearing. He brought a free hand to cover his nose, and that was when Everleigh jumped towards his face with a fist aimed against his hand, effectively breaking his nose.
She exhaled the breath she had been holding as the men behind him began to move into action. But it was too late for them. Everleigh preferred close-quarter combat because the purple mist from her parted lips didn't take long to spread amongst the men. One grabbed her throat, getting a handful of her cloak. Their strong grip weakened in seconds.
It was almost too easy, sometimes.
Alistair Krixus
