Dreadlords The Republic of Blood

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King perked up subtly as the Dreadlord addressed him. A scrap of well-earned recognition! It was rather nice. Big Sis Eva would do well to follow suit.

Of course, his actual answer to the question Erodin posed would've been something along the lines of brutally and publicly executing the First General in a gross display of Vel Anir's might, but Erodin had already stated the powers that be wanted subtlety. King had an idea on that end too, of course.

"If we are trying so hard to avoid suspicion being placed on ourselves or the Republic, then why not implicate one of the good general's lieutenants?" he theorized, lips curling upwards wickedly as the idea began to blossom. "I believe the military officers in this city are given ceremonial daggers as a sign of their status. Driving one into Torrik's heart would surely point a very obvious finger at its owner, who may shift blame onto his peers in turn."

It was too perfect, at least from King's perspective. Who knew sowing the seeds of dissent could inspire oneself so? King laughed, running a triumphant hand through his hair.
"We'd not only be eliminating their leadership, we'd be making our efforts look like a coup; we'd destabilize their entire chain of command!"
 
  • Frog Eyes
Reactions: Vittoria Larrainth
"Seems at least one of you understands the game."

Vittoria met his gaze with the quiet victory of being correct, of being able to understand the many games at play.

King, too, was beginning to get into the spirit of this mission.


"I can make the swap. We just need a blade similar in weight so that they do not catch on." Vittoria looked around the faces gathered and shrugged. "Perhaps I can use one of my blades." At which point she dug a finger under her skin of her forearm, ripping a seam and pulling out a smaller knife and holding it up to King.

"Would this suffice or are the ceremonial knives larger?"