Private Tales The Stabby Thread

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Talus

Dreadlord
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Character Biography
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Vel Anir - Morrid House

The Anirian Guard had been good to him, better than anyone had his entire life in fact.

Most officers treated him with respect, most soldiers looked up to him, and everyone else simply saw him as one of their own. It was a nice change of pace, so much so that Talus found himself often wondering when the other shoe would drop. Despite that constant nagging, Talus had yet to feel any sort of pendulum swing.

They had even given him a house.

It was a modest thing, only a single bedroom with a living room and what passed for a kitchen. It was still more space than anything Talus had ever had before, and at times he found himself wondering what the hell he would do with all the room he now had.

He found it strange, actually having something for himself.

A frown touched his face as he stared out across the open plains surrounding his home, shaking his head and turning to head inside.
 
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This was the farthest she'd ventured from the Isle of Sorcha in a very long while. So different from the dry sands of Amol-Kalit. More greenery than she'd seen in a long time. More grass.

The assassin had been watching her target for nearly four days. She'd dealt with mages before. They were certainly more difficult. Fingers touched the talisman bound in a black, leather cord around her neck. It would protect her for some time - at least from direct influence of the man's magic on herself. It wouldn't stop him from using his magic on himself or influencing things around her. And the talisman's magic wouldn't last long. She had a very short window for this.

And as Talus turned, he might be surprised to see a black-clad and lightly armored tall-figure standing across the room from him. He might be even more surprised by the oncoming whistle of throwing knives as they were launched at his form from very quick, precise, and murderous hands.

Artemis never questioned the contracts she received. She just did the job.
 
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Talus had never been targeted for assassination before. He'd never gone through the realization of betrayal, the sudden shock of someone stabbing him in the back.

He'd known it would happen eventually, known that especially out here he was vulnerable. One of the first things General Ilyena had told him was the fact that he would be a target now. Members of the Ruling Houses, other Dreadlords, and even other officers in the Guard would want him dead.

This was the first sign of that though.

As the knives flew towards him Talus acted on utter instinct. His entire body shifted and fell into a phase-walk, his form turning a translucent blue as the blades cut through empty air.

A second later he popped back into reality, his hand jutting out to grab a porcelain statue that had been given to him just a week earlier. Without a thought he whipped it at the assassin, taking opportunity from the minor distraction to lunge towards the corner of the room where his sword sat.
 
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If his use of that particular magic surprised her, it didn't show. Body turned a quarter, the statue sailing past the space she'd just occupied and breaking against the wall behind her. Hand fell to the corded whip at her side as the man lunged for the sword. Arm swooped back and she launched the snake-like end to crack at the hand that grabbed at the steel.

If he dodged, her wrist would flick it back again and again, going for a cut across his torso. Perhaps tangling up an ankle.
 
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Talus' hand suddenly turned the same translucent blue as the whip clashed against the blade.

The sword went flying to the floor as it was struck, sent sprawling half way across the room before he could even reach for it. The second it landed Talus turned his head, seeing the whip lash forward again.

It thrashed through him, leaving ghostly trails within the air as it cut through his form. His ghostly visage changed to a scowl, and then he suddenly jumped forward.

Without air or gravity to slow him, the ghostly Talus snapped forward impossible quickly.

He came back to reality just a step in front of the assassin, his fingers grabbing after her forearms as his forehead came forward to bash hard into her nose.
 
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She blinked and he was before her. Her reflexes were fast. Preternatural and trained. Even so, she hadn't exactly trained against...that. His fingers closed around one arm. The other wasn't so easy to catch. Weight tipped to her heels. The dreadlord's forehead bonged against her chin and lower lip instead of her nose.

Fingers would snake around his own wrist on the hand that grabbed him even as she felt the connection with his head to her own and she'd try to fall backward using both their momentum, tucking her legs up so her feet would catch his stomach if he fell with her - to launch him backward and onto his own back. She was taller than most women. Stronger. And would use her physical build to her advantage if she could. If that happened, he might even find the assassin quickly straddling his prone form with the glint of a knife coming toward his chest.

There were a lot of ifs though.
 
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As soon as Talus felt himself flip over he released the woman's arm.

His fingers pulled away from her, and with a twist he yanked himself out of her grasp. Then suddenly his form once again broke from reality, his face shifting into a ghostly visage that righted itself in the air and slowly floated onto the ground in a standing position.

For a second it stayed there, and then it took three quick steps back.

There Talus stepped back into reality, out of the range of her whip and yet just as far from his sword. A scowl flicked over his lips, and he cursed himself for letting down his guard even here. "Who are you?"

He demanded from the woman as he briefly glanced around for anything to use as a weapon.
 
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Chest heaved as she came back to her feet. His form a blurry-visage that she couldn't get a hold of. A frown touched the assassin's face beneath the face covering she wore. Whip cracked at the air as it extended toward the man but just out of reach.

"You don't want to know," she breathed. "Say your prayers to your gods while you can."

There was no malice in her words, just a cold truth.

With a swift lunge of her arm, she threw the dagger at one of his thighs and lunged forward, cracking that whip again toward his face.
 
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Talus didn't flinch as the whip cracked loudly just before him, his eyes fixed on her as he waited.

A dagger flickered forward, and that was all that he needed. His form suddenly shifted once more, breaking from reality. Ghostly hands reached low, one grabbing the dagger from the air while the other reached forward and grasped the end of the whip.

As soon as his hands enveloped both Talus snapped back into reality. Fingers clutched both weapons, drawing them back and suddenly jerking backwards.

"Oh but I do." The Dreadlord called out as he used the whip to yank her back towards him.
 
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Weight tipped to her toes and she was off-balance, flung toward the soldier. One staggering step.

Lips thinned beneath her mask and she released the whip.

Two steps.

Hands would go to block any dagger attack he might throw as her shoulder lowered to ram into the side of his ribs.
 
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Talus smirked as he quickly pulled the whip over to himself. His off-hand came up, grasping at the handle and letting it fall into his hand.

This entire fight he'd been without a weapon, and she'd just managed to hand him one. The girl dashed forward, two quick steps to try and bash into him before he could respond. The moment she came close Talus once again phase-walked.

His ghostly figure stepped forward, and then through the assassin.

As soon as he was on the other side of her Talus stepped back into reality, turning as he launched the whip directly towards her legs in an attempt to seize her.
 
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It all would’ve gone swimmingly for the Dreadlord if she hadn’t been wearing that talisman that protected her from magic being used directly on her. The charm along her neck glowed warm for the flash of a second. That stupid smirk would be wiped right off his face as they hit.

Artemis hooked an ankle behind his and wrapped her arms around him, grappling as they hit the floor. Her knee would rise sharply, going toward his groin.
 
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Shock painted his face for a moment.

He hadn't expected his magic not to work. He'd encountered anti-mages before, but this was something different. It had to be some sort of effect of something.

Talus knew he didn't have time to puzzle it out, her knee came up, but at the same time so did his hands.

She would feel the rug of the whip around her throat just as her leg impacted with the crux of his thighs. Pain lanced through him, his arms flailing wildly and a loud groan of agony screaming from his lips as he tried to wrap the cord around her throat and drag her off of him.
 
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Artemis gasped, feeling the constriction along her windpipe. One hand went up, fingers clawing around the noose, trying to keep some air there. Her fist went flying out, toward a throat punch to the man.

If she didnt feel some small amount of satisfaction at his surprise to not use magic, she’d be lying. Many an assassins guild were created to try to stand up to those with too much born-given power. Train hard enough for something, like she had her entire life, and you almost become preternatural yourself. Her hardened muscles, skill at fighting and pressure points, with her tolerance to pain made her a formidable foe even to a Dreadlord.
 
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Talus has spent his entire life fighting.

Proctor's, Dreadlords, Elves, and half a dozen others had tried to kill him for the last twenty years. This assassin would not succeed where they had failed, he would not allow it. Not now.

Not when things were good.

The Dreadlord felt the woman's fingers dig into his skin, his features shifting in rage as he tightened his grip on the whip. Then he suddenly bucked upward.

With a single combination of him moving and a twist of his body Talus tried to throw the woman off of him and into the nearby table.
 
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She landed with a quiet oomph, armor of her back taking the brunt of the table. With both hands free, she quickly unwound the whip from around her neck and rolled to her feet. A dagger slid into each hand.
The man probably wondered where she kept all the weapons in her body.

She was a professional.

Launching forward she went to swipe at the man mercilessly.

Stabby stab.
 
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This woman didn't seem to know when to quit. A muted curse escaped his throat his fingers scrunched a she flicked daggers into both of her hands.

His eyes went to his sword once more, but he knew reaching it would be a crapshoot.

The woman launched herself at him, and this time Talus didn't hesitate. Once again his entire being went translucent blue, but this time he did not try to pass through her. Instead he rushed into the wall besides him.

He stepped outside, quite literally, then quickly swung himself around and through the same wall. He reappeared inside of the House just behind the assassin, popping into reality to kick her back and send her into the opposite wall.

"Stop! He commanded at the same time. "I'll give you double what they are."

Talus wasn't sure if he had that kind of money, but it was worth a shot.
 
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Knives stabbed against air. A frustrated grunt left her mouth.

Damn mages.

At least this wasn’t as bad as the firemancer in Elbion. She still had a burn mark along her right ribs. The kick hit her thigh, sending her stumbling back, her back against a wall she couldn’t disappear into. Her hood slipped off, ashen hair showing along with thin, pressed lips.

“How long do you think I’d be employed for if I took up every target on that offer?”

Not to mention the dishonor it would bring to the Isle of Sorcha’s chapter. She pushed off the wall and circled him slowly, like a vulture waiting to land.

“Your own actions brought this upon yourself,” she said quietly. Lunging forward, her daggers soon followed.
 
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Fair point.

The moment she lunged at him however Talus simply shifted back into his ghostly form and took four steps to the right. In an instant he was on the other side of the room from her, positioned in a half defensive stance with his sword nearby.

"Did they?" He asked. "Do you even know who you're working for? Who wants me dead?"

Talus had done many things that were not entirely moral, but there were many in Vel Anir who had done far worse. He doubted very much that the Assassin had been hired by those 'better' than him. More likely it had been one of the families. "You can't kill me."

He told her, tensing slightly.

"The only reason I'm still here is because I want to know who sent you." He wasn't above running away, but the mystery was too strong for that just yet. His magic stopped when he interacted with her, but if he wanted to he could get out of the building and run as fast as he could.
 
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Fingers tightened around the daggers.

“Haven’t you heard about client confidentiality?” She eyed him for a moment. This was a game of rattier tiger and desert mouse.

“You can run but it wont last. Do you think I wouldn't find you? Perhaps you’d go to sleep one night and never wake.”

She wouldn’t finish until the job was done even if that took one month. Two. It didn’t matter. Only other scenario would be if she got gravely injured and was unable to physically carry on.Then perhaps she’d meet death with honor.

Artemis lunged forward again.
 
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Talus moved the second he saw her tense before the lunge.

The tip of his foot slid beneath the edge of his sword and with one quick flip he launched it into the air. His form turned ghostly, and with an outstretched hand he caught the blade before quickly shifting to the left.

His form blurred once again within the air, though this time he didn't appear behind her.

Instead Talus came back into reality just to the left of her. His foot would catch her legs, tripping her, and then in one smooth motion his blade came down. It stabbed through her thigh like a hot knife through butter, and then pierced the wood below.

There was a loud thunk as the blade struck the floor and pinned her to the ground.
 
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A moment of shock with a hint of respect just before the plunge into a lake of pain.

A pinched, low keening groan left her lips. Face paled and ashen-silvered hair fanned across the floor. She couldn't move her leg. Couldn't move at all without considerable pain. She still clutched one dagger, though weakly. The other had clattered somewhere on the floor.

"I'd ask...," she took a labored breath. "That you make it quick and clean." She finished, clearly able to take a great deal amount of pain as she kept her expression steady and did not cry out further.
 
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Talus took a single step back, ensuring that he was out of reach of her remaining blade. His stance remained ready, tense, half expecting her to flick the knife at him just to get the death blow she so wanted.

He still had no idea who she was, but the young Dreadlord was neither cruel enough to torture her nor prolong her suffering more than he had to. "I don't want to kill you."

His voice was a mixture of anger and exertion.

"Tell me who sent you." Talus told her. "I'll make sure you get out of this alive."

If he cut her throat they would just send more anyway.
 
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Her grip on that last dagger loosened until her hand flopped to the ground. Blood was pooling beneath her leg.

Didn't want to kill her?

Hell, then he should've picked a better spot on her leg. She would bleed out in a matter of minutes. At least she'd die the highest honorable death; death by fighting. And it wouldn't be by surrender.

Sweat began beading across her brow. She felt glued to the floor - and not just by the sword through her leg. Head was growing lighter.

"They'd find me," she said quietly. Her guild. They'd find her and finish the job. "And they'd find you," a shuddering breath. Eyes closed. Unfortunately, the man would have a nasty blood stain to get out of his floor now.

Artemis couldn't think or speak anymore as she passed out.
 
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Talus let out a quiet curse.

In a strange way he meant the woman no more enmity than he would have a wolf. She had tried to kill him because...well, that was her job. Talus had done the same thing to many others. With a sigh he quickly turned around and ran to a nearby cabinet.

From it he quickly grasped a small bag, one put together for him by Donric. With a quick yank he pulled free what he needed, then stepped over towards the woman.

He kicked both knives away from her, double checking she was unconscious before gently touching her leg. He took a breath, and then suddenly her leg took a ghostly visage. He moved it, the blade pulling free as though nothing were stopping it.

Just a few moments later her wound was bound, and Talus found himself sitting on the floor with an unconscious assassin.
 
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