Private Tales Two Deaths, One Stone

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Kitra grimaced. "Too bad that compass girl is on mission. Could have asked her to track things down..." She loosed a sigh, but her eyes ever vigilant to their surroundings. "But you are right. Working on an identity may help speed things along."

No one here would whisper, passing it along with the wind until it reached her ears. Vel Anir simply absorbed Kitra, and never had she felt so integrated into a city. Perhaps it was the occupation, a position with the Vigilite after she displayed her talents in taking down a corrupted Dreadlord that was days away from controlling Vel Cirak. Being properly employed than being a Dreadlord had kept her busy, but Kit did not mind the work.

There were times she felt guilty for being so busy, for not having the time to look out for those she had interest to keep an eye on.

"Want to visit his home? Maybe... fresh eyes could see something I missed." She had been there hours after the report came, and it had been luck that she even got the information in the first place. "It's on the other side of the docks..."
 
"No, we can follow the man like you suggested...I'm just here to follow your directives."

Without explaining more, Alistair turned to follow after the man from a safe distance. He had no fear of losing the man as he had slipped one of his runes onto him as they spoke. He would not be able to hide from Alistair.

Even though he had lost sight of him, Alistair could now see the magical aura of his rune like a beacon among the crowds of people. He casually made his way through the crowd allowing people to move around him, if they did not then he would simply walk through them. Several larger individuals were surprised to learn that although Alistair may have a lean build, his muscles made it feel like they had just walked into a pole of metal.

"We can visit the home later if needed."

Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra was slightly perplexed at the urgency and pace Alistair kept as he began to follow, her own feet picking up her pace to keep up with his longer strides.

"Good thing, at least, that I can't sense other Dreadlords nearby." Of course, not all that possessed magic were Dreadlords, but the observation was still relevant. It meant that the only trouble they would face would be hand to hand or weaponry, not an assault of magic being thrown to and fro. She figured Alistair could see her observation with those strange eyes of his, but it was also her way of keeping communication between them open.

Their target made contact with the person he said he was to meet at the market, but without Trix with them to use her unique hack of eavesdropping, Kitra made do by drawing up the hood of her light jacket to conceal her face. She blended with many passersby, but studied the Wyrm in hopes of feeling what he was putting out. Kitra's own body moved to mimic, her expression scowling.

"He's being assertive." She conveyed to Alistair. "Can't see the other guy to get a better read of what they're feeling..." She craned her neck enough to feign stretching.
 
Alistair watched silently in the direction that Kitra spoke of. While he knew where the gang member was because of his rune, he couldn't really see a good outline of the person since they lacked magic. That was until he pulled something from his pocket. That small object had the same feint magical signature as the stone from earlier.

"He just handed him something...I think it might be a stone."

It might also be a different object meant for a different subject, it was difficult to know without Kitra confirming this. They would need to watch to see what would happen next. The only thing he knew for sure was that things were starting to move.

He wish he had a way to add a rune to the other guy to follow him as well.

"You said he being assertive...maybe an order?"


Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra stiffened.

Stones had meaning. That's what Al's contact had informed her of.

"We should follow." She said, chewing on her lip as she thought. "I can use my magic to try and scry a mimicked object if I am close enough... see what colour he handed the person." Kitra shrugged. It wasn't something she did often, for the results were not always concrete, but without drawing attention, she would try. "Then it is a matter of figuring out what the colours mean."

She had forgotten what his friend had told him in the shop earlier, but Kitra knew they were on a lead, they were close to something.

Without another word, they walked by. Kit pretended to peruse some wares in order to give her time to scry, to mimic an object, and only walked away to meet up beside Alistair once she felt her pocket grow heavier in weight. She pulled it out, discreetly showing Al also.

It was black.


"Now, on a scale of colours, black seems on the extreme side of signals..."
 
"Black is actually both the absence of color in the context of light or the absorption of all color in the context of pigment, so it could mean either one...but I do agree it seems negative."

Not everyone was a fan of facts, so rather than wait to see what Kitra's reaction was to that, he just followed after their targets.

They could just kill them now since it proved that this group also communicated using stones, but that was extreme in its own right. If they were planning to do something extreme then wouldn't the target be themselves...

"I suppose we can just follow and see if they start preparing for a fight...then we can give them one."

This might get them a fight, but it still didn't ensure they would find the definite killer. They may need to keep a few of them alive for questioning.

Kitra Sen
 
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They decided to pick a spot and wait.

So many of these shops and buildings were deemed unfit for use, that the years of neglect had left it condemned for any matter of life. With care and caution, they both scaled furniture shoved into the right place, bypassing the derelict staircase that would surely break something in their body if they fell from it, and pulled themselves up through the ceiling into the dusty and vermin infested floor of the second storey.

But the corner room gave them perfect vision of much of the market below.


"There." She found the Wyrm, looking disgruntled and looking through the crowd with a menace to his smile. He knew Kitra and Alistair had deserted him, and she wondered what he thought about them. If his suspicions were raised at all. "He has a friend."

The friend in question was shorter, but still tall and lean, not at all someone she would thought would belong to a gang, but the unmistakable drake wound from his exposed wrist and the scales of the body seen at his chest. His shirt had been left wide to show it off, as if taunting anyone to go against the strongest gang of this moment.

But in his hand, a smooth and polished stone was being passed between fingers, the darkness of the ebony hue not lost given their distance.

They began to talk, and Kitra mimicked their lips. The trick did not work all the time, but given that these two spoke in a way that enunciated their words, to the point by eye alone, Kitra could make out what they said. But she leaned to her mimicry, mirrored their movements and spoke in her own voice of the conversation below.

"... by their disappearance, they got to be connected."

"Aye, but I wouldn't have minded grabbin' her and questionin' her just to be sure. The brother I don't give a fuck about." The Wyrm from the tavern said. Kitra's own face twisted, uncomfortable that she left an impression that still made him think of her. All instinct called for her to make him forget, to ensure she wouldn't be hunted, but... this was not Vel Cirak.

"The shipment is moving tonight. In two hours. We cannot fuck this up, we cannot have any more attention drawn to this, else the buyer is going to get spooked and we are left in the shithouse."
 
Alistair sat silently in their lookout position, not really bothering to watch. His magical eyes would be far less effective at this moment than Kitra's unique talents. Most of these gang members did not have magical abilities. He knew where they were thanks to his runes, but it did not tell him any more than position.

Kitra's mimicry made the situation clear to him and he nodded his head slowly.

"It makes this all simple. Let's wait for this shipment to arrive. We will follow them and find out what is worth killing people over. Depending on the answer, we can kill them or arrest them."

Either way, it would satisfy Alistair's drive for justice. And...a part of him would admit that he wanted to knock this gang down a peg.

He normally did not mind the criminal gangs as it was nearly impossible to completely remove their hold on the shady parts of Vel Anir, but to flaunt their flimsy power so openly. It was time they were reminded that they were a small frog in the well that was Vel Anir.

Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra ceased the mimicry, turning to look at Alistair with creased brows. "How do you determine when to kill?"

It had been something that weighed on her for years, and her time with the Academy before the Revolution had not helped her come up with the decision. Perhaps it was the mimicry, the fear that she would feel what they felt, and in doing so Kitra unwillingly became empathetic to others.

The moments she knew when to kill was when she needed to stop them from coming after her, or to just.... simply make things stop. One day... one day she will be at ease enough to tell someone what had happened in Vel Cirak, why she was plucked from the crowd by the Vigilite.


"Or are we acting as ourselves and will play god?"
 
Alistair was silent for a long moment...What a strange question. His mind instantly went back to a moment with one of his Proctors when he was only fourteen years old, "I kill when I draw my sword."

The man had meant to show the teens that they need to show conviction to fight when they must, but it really just made it sound like some murder-hungry killer. Besides, Kitra probably wasn't looking for something so philosophical.

"I will judge them when I see their crimes. If it is dangerous to Vel Anir then they will die...It is not that I play god, but I am a representative of Vel Anir's justice, so I will act as I must."

It was simple. It was what he had been taught. It was also easiest to turn off one's mind and fall back on what he had been trained for. It protected him from all the horrible things he had done. He had not wanted to leave a trail of bodies on his path of life. It was just his orders, his oath, he had to. That wasn't him.

"We kill if we must."

Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra pursed her lips, her eyes watching as the two men entered a building. Another pub.

"Alright." She gave it no more thought, knowing that thinking on it too much may even cloud her judgment, make her more aware. "We wait this out, follow them to this shipment..."

The hours that followed were quiet. Kitra was not up for any idle chatter with Alistair, but answered him any questions he had, and yet it was obvious she was too distracted. Keeping watch, keeping aware of the hour by the bell chimes.

Finally, an hour after sunset, the two Wyrms left the building, loitering for a moment. She let out a curse, the darkness clinging to the streets calling for the mage light lamp posts to cast a shadow over them and making the lip reading difficult from their vantage point.


"We should move, start to follow them."
 
Alistair asked very few questions in that time, mostly just requesting updates on the surrounding area. He could still tell that Kitra was thinking about her question from earlier, but he did not bother to ask for more advice. That was something that she would need to work through on her own...maybe a friend could help her.

When she finally announced their time to leave, Alistair quickly got to his feet, having taken the time during the stakeout to replenish his magic. He was fully restocked and ready to go.

"Let's go out the window and follow from the roofs...people rarely think to look up."

In response to the statement, several runes on his skin activated which would allow for and even more impressive speed and grace from both of the young Dreadlords.

"This will only be for the traveling, not the fight itself."

He felt the need to clarify that because going into a fight expecting to be multitudes faster and dexterous and then finding out you were not would be disastrous for any person.

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It took a moment for Kitra to understand the enhancements, to mimic Alistair's familiarity with it as they both followed the Wyrms from the comfort of darkness and rooftops.

Runes had been something Kit was gifted at, but the idea of needing time to apply necessary ones or on the go was lost on her. She was forgetful with that sort of practice, and relied on her instincts of fighting hand to hand as she was taught. Her talents were for close quarter combat, to be wicked and unrelenting with two daggers, one for each hand.

Kitra felt as if she were the Lyrebird again, renewed, here in Vel Anir as she used the cloak of darkness and the assurance of her daggers. There were no werewolves out here that she could mimic, to attract them out of hiding so that they could hunt. There were far too many people than wolves in the capital, and each of them had different voices, different behaviours. It would take years on the job to learn and understand, but Kitra need not learn how to move undetected in the dark.


"To the docks." She communicated with her partner. "I can... feel magic. Can you see it?"

Of course, there would be someone magically gifted down there. Whether they were a Dreadlord or not, it made no real difference to two trained Dreadlords.
 
Alistair had to squint in the direction of the dock to decipher other forms of magic in the area which were more mundane like magical lamps, but he spotted it quickly.

"Yes, I can see it. I'll keep an eye on it."


It was now as simple as following a trail of bread crumbs as Alistair slipped out the window and jumped across the roof with relative ease, the grace and ease of movement that his spell provided made the two of them unnoticeable to the crowd below.

It did not take long for them to make it to the docks, and even if it did, the magic user had no way of escaping Alistair now.

When they arrived, there was quite a gathering. It was certainly clear that something was going down, and it only took a cursory glance to see most of the people had displayed their dragon-like tattoos.

Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra scouted a vantage point and directed Alistair to follow.

This position allowed them to keep to the shadows, out of sight in the light of the moons above, even more so when cloud cover obscured them. "There is a small boat coming to the docks." And Kit and Alistair had full view of seeing it slowly row up to the group waiting.

After several minutes, a company of four came to meet the Wyrms. Greetings were exchanged, although no hands were offered.

Two of those in company were magic wielders. Kitra could feel it even from here, especially one that wielded fire. She had learned the magic once before, back in Vel Cirak when partnered with a Dreadlord that could withstand extreme heat and flame. He in fact had trained her to wield it alongside him, liking the idea that Kitra's abilities would be seen as an advantageous surprise.


"Fire wielder." There was an excitement to her whisper, as if she were itching to use magic all this time. "But I can't hear anything from here. Nor can I see their faces enough to mimic their lips..."

She looked to Alistair. They needed to get closer.
 
"Yeah, and a strong one by the looks of it." If their aura was anything to go off of then the fire mage could really light things up...Of course, it was easier to see the mages magical capacity rather than his actual skill with magic.

Alistair did not waste time in beginning to crafter a spell, but it did take him some time. Spells for silence were simple. Spells for shadows were even easier, but there was an art to actually go unnoticed.

The spell Alistair crafted was something he had crafted after working with others in the Vigilite. First, the spell silenced their steps. Second, shadows would cling to them making it harder to be spotted. Finally, and this was the best part, a bit of mental magic. Nothing is as extreme as illusion magic, but people's eyes would want to not focus on them. They could still be seen if the gang members knew what to look for, but Alistair was betting that they did not.

"Alright, we are ready to move."

They needed to slip closer if Kitra was going to read them. Otherwise, they would just be following like blind mice.

Kitra Sen
 
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Kitra dared not to make a sound as her feet moved, leading the pair to a closer spot.

"Fire's friend is a brute!" Excitement found it's way to her whisper, but Alistair would be able to see it all over her face as she turned to grin back at him. Exercising excessive strength was nothing new to Kit either, borrowing muscle and force from plenty others. If things came down to a fight, all they needed to do was keep those two wielders close and in range for Kitra to be a force.

"Where's the rest?" Came a call. At least Kitra didn't have to mimic words to understand what was being said.

The two groups kept healthy distance between them, as if their failed handover last time had burned them and now they both took precautions. Both sides were close to exits, an ease of making themselves scarce should the time call for it. Both sides having mages only made Kitra hope a fight could break out, only so she could utilise her own magic and put her frustrations into combat.

"On the ship. You'll have it once payment is in our hands." The fire wielder called out, crossing their arms.

The Wyrm they had been following all day stepped forth, scoffing and hacking up to spit at the ground before him. "That ain't how we doin' bus'ness, you lads know that."

"After last time, precautions need to be taken."

"Oh, is tha' right? We've dun a search 'round here, and there is nothin' to interfere. Got some muscle here, ya see?"

Kitra couldn't place their magic, could not begin to describe the abilities calling to her to wield, to mimic. It felt different to that of Anirian standard magic, a practice and system that was understood by Kit. All she could hope for was something not too devastating of a blow...

The next few minutes were an exchange, one beginning to count the others coin and inspect their quality, the other looking over the wares they were purchasing.

It seemed an agreement was made, and a fight would not be had.

They were dispersing after what seemed to be half an hour, and Kitra shot a finger out, aiming at the Wyrm from earlier.


"He's taking a different path, alone... we should follow."


It was clear he knew what had happened to the murdered innocent men, and the answers Kitra was burning to have answered could be done so by him alone. Even if he did meet with someone else, the Lyrebird knew she could coax him away from prying eyes.
 
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A frown crossed Alistair's face for the briefest moments. Kitra was right, they needed to follow the Wyrm as he was the reason that they were there. Still, such a large criminal transaction was driving Alistair to make a move. Instead, he tried his best to remember the magical signatures of the two mages. They were not Anirian magic users and that was dangerous in this city. He would try to find and remove them later.

All Kitra got in response was a nod as Alistair re-applied some of the spells to allow them to follow. From what Alistair knew, the Wyrm was not magical so this should be simple.

But there was a question as to where the Wyrm was heading. Why? Why was he immediately left on his own from what was clearly a huge transaction for the parties involved...In the end, it did not matter, this wasn't an investigation into gang businesses. They only needed to solve a murder.

He would have to give the Wyrm credit, for a non-magic user, he moved through the slums with incredible speed. The man walked with a purpose and clearly knew the maze of back alleys, along with every secret shortcut like the back of his hand.

Even so, between Alistair and Kitra, it was impossible to escape.

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She was sad to feel the fading thread of magic beckoning her grow thinner and thinner as distance pulled at the tethers, until there was nothing left to feel. The potential of fire and the assurance of strength no longer at her fingertips.

But that did not make her any lesser as a Dreadlord. She had been trained since a child, had operated before the Revolution. She was made a weapon, a devastation when it came to wielding both her blades. And with that reassurance of herself, she matched Alistair's stalk as they followed the Wyrm.

They were both careful to keep distance, wondering why he would break apart from the others... a curiosity she knew Krixus also possessed as they wordlessly followed.

Nothing of note happened until Kitra began to recognise the street, unable to forget the unmistakable scent of the docks wafting this way. The sea was pungent, and her steps began to slow until she came to a stop.

"That's his home. The one right down the end in the peeling blue paint." She swallowed, audibly, and watched with bated breath as the Wyrm fished out a key and unlocked the door. "That is Harlan's home... why does he have a key...?"
 
Alistair's moved silently, keeping a perfect distance for observation without any possibility for a normal person to spot them, just as he had been trained with the Vigilite. He was beginning to wonder if the man was simply leaving when he could tell something of import was happening as he sensed Kitra's slowing.

He glanced at her before turning to see that she was correct, the wyrm was unlocking the door as they spoke and slipping inside...That was enough in Alistair's eyes.

"Seems like proof to me. Ready to pounce? We can ask a few questions...This time less politely." He offered.

Without waiting for a response, Alistair was already slinking closer to the building, but he would still wait for Kitra's lead on entering the abode. This next part was going to largely be left up to her. The Wyrm had clearly lied about his knowledge, and confronting him in the home would be like catching a child with his hand in the cookie jar. The only difference would be that there would be no timeout for the Wyrm their punishment would be far more severe.

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Something of a force stormed through her being, gave fuel and fire to her veins as noise washed over her hearing. She advanced, ready to confront the Wyrm with Alistair by her side. Two daggers were in her hand, a glint of silver as the Lyrebird took the lead and sauntered towards the front door.

She did not need magic, she did not need to drag this out longer than they needed.

Proof had been before her eyes.

Kitra did not wait before she kicked down the door, having been here before that she knew where to look. The Wyrm, kneeling in the living room, had pulled up a floor board and was in the midst of stashing some pouches of coin beneath the boards. Startled by her announcement, he scrambled to cover up the gap in the floor and rise up to meet Kitra.

Clearly, he did not expect her to be a Dreadlord.

With the rounded hilt of her dagger, Kitra aimed to strike his face, but her other hand going in for a swipe at his thigh proved more fruitful. He groaned, pressing a hand to it and caught her stare, mouth opening to speak but Kitra Sen could care less of whatever excuse he would utter.

Bringing up one leg, she delivered a well aimed kick to his chest. The impact was quick, catching him off balance and falling off his feet. The room shook under the weight of his descent, and Kitra stepped forward with enough distance to not be in the impact zone should the Wyrm retaliate.


"You know who killed him. I'm not leaving this place until you tell me everything."
 
Alistair watched all of this play out with no real emotion, if anything it was all just kind of sad. Not for them, but the Wyrm. He never really stood a chance against Kitra, and now she was angry too, good luck to him.

Instead, Alistair moved over to take a look at what was being hidden underneath the floorboards. Even he had to be impressed with what he found. It was gold and a lot of it, he could have bought half of the slums with this amount.

More importantly, Al reached down and removed a book from the hiding hole. It was a ledger, or something similar. It made sense, any large organization had to keep track of all of their streams of income or something was bound to fall through the cracks.

"Well, would you look at that? Someone accidentally left this all lying around. I suppose we will need to bring all of this in until someone comes to claim it."

He turned to Kitra and the Wyrm like he was expecting their opinion on the idea, but really he was just looking at the Wyrm. He knew Kitra could care less, and honestly, neither could he but no gang could ignore losing all of this.

Kitra Sen
 
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"His friend lost a bet!" The Wyrm groaned, choosing wisely to remain on the floor. "We had come 'round to intimidate him, to pay up but he refused. Next day, he came to our pub and gave us riches he stole. Nah, I saw one medal had belonged to his friend. Your father." He used the word, but did not believe it.
"How did he die?"
"We gutted the thief." He sat up now, watching Kitra warily. Her daggers held a glint that reflected across his brow. "I came to return the stolen shit here, and the man accused me for stealing it." At this his chuckled darkly, eyeing up Kitra as if he wondered about his chances. Then his eyes fell on Alistair, his face darkening shades more.
"That shit ain't yours, blind fuck."
Without warning, Kitra loosed a dagger that embedded into the floor, in the space between the Wyrm's legs.

"What happened to him?"
The Wyrm spat her way, daring her to throw the other blade, but Kit did not. The Lyrebird had restraint.
"I left his shit here and days later, he tried to intercept our shipment. The other guys gutted him, thought we made a play to keep the money and the dru—"

He cut himself off.

"Remind me, were there laws for smuggling on Anirian territory?" Kitra asked Alistair.
 
Alistair largely ignored the Wyrm, at this point, he would not end up mattering to him. Instead, he took his time to sift through anything that wasn't just money, to try and figure out where all of the money was coming from. If the Wyrm was smart, he may wonder how this blind guy was reading anything.

Al did look up when Kitra asked the question of the law, and he couldn't help but smile.

"I do believe so. Article 7, section 46 of the Uniform Anirian Territory Treaty...Depending on the crime, punishments can be...extensive."

"Anything from seizure-",
Alistair paused to waive some of the gold and a book at the Wyrm, indicating that these were being seized.

"All the way to death if I'm not mistaken."

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"Nah, nah, I ain't going to die for this!"

Kitra laughed. It sounded so true and melodic, as if they were all old friends. The sound was out of place here, but the Wyrm shut up immediately. "He was found here in this home. His home. He had a stone in this throat, as if that had suffocated him. Tell me the truth. All of it."

Alistair would know that Kitra had her own unique way of deciphering a lie told by another.

The Wyrm glanced between them.

"The suppliers were gonna to kill 'im, but I insisted on takin' him home... I wasn't gentle on 'im either. Fuckin' frustrated he ruined the buy." He sat up, putting distance between his crown jewels and Kitra's knife. "He started askin' questions about the stone, and... I was so pissed off then that I... I did it. Y'know he left 'is home in a hurry, had that board all loose..."


"And so you stole from him again. Didn't care he was dead, did you?"

"I couldn't move anythin' until after he was found, expected a few days until someone did so that the next deal didn't get disturbed. But you found him hours later. Just my fuckin' luck."

Kitra stared at the Wyrm, saying nothing more. Her thoughts were busy, as if weighing her options before her. The Wyrm had killed a man without thought. Didn't care what life he would be leaving.

"He is telling the truth." She sneered, as if that had been a mistake.