Fable - Ask Unshattering the Eye

[Rak]

As they sprinted, Rak could practically feel the frustration grow.

This wasn't a problem where the solution was just running in and bashing whatever issue there was would be a good option. The trouble was without that solution, the Half-Orc was nearly out of tricks. It wasn't that he was a fool or an idiot incapable of thinking beyond such tactics.

The problems was that he had never been trained for such things.

He was a warrior, a front-line fighter.

Not a sneak-thief, not a rogue or anything of the sort. Minerva was right, they couldn't just run in, but the options they had did not inspire much confidence in Rak. He mulled for a few more seconds, then shook his head and looked at Minerva. "Fuck it."

Rak cursed as he glanced down at the Wayfinder.

"I'll follow your lead." The Half-Orc had never been one to abdicate responsibility, and that wasn't what he was doing now. Of the two of them, Minerva could form the better plan for this. "Underhanded, over, whatever."

His teeth clicked together. "I just want to get the bastard."

 

[Minerva]

"We'll do it with a hand clenched around a dagger." Plates of arcarmor would've clanked, making stealth impossible.

Normally that wasn't an issue. They were warriors who charged in, honoring the old Urogoshi ways. But today they had to be sneak-thieves. Underhanded cutthroats and villains behaving the way gangs of dwarves or the beguiling drow did. So, no arcarmor for now, but daggers would be just fine.

They'd used the wayfinder to track their prey to a little alcove by a lake. In the center of it sat a tiefling, the same one who'd cut their friends and allies down, and she was laughing to herself. Laughing.

The horned beast didn't deserve a quick slit of her throat. She deserved to die slowly so she could explain the why of it all. Why had she cut their squadron down for the promise of a trinket that she didn't deserve in the first place.

It became apparent quickly, however, that the tiefling's laughter wasn't the result of insanity or gloating of what she'd done.

The creature wasn't alone, at least not really, she held up a small mirror and while looking at it was conversing with another. Minerva had heard of such magical artifacts, rare items that allowed two people to have a conversation despite being a continent apart. Of course, from this distance they could only hear one side of the conversation - the tiefling's.

"Yes, yes, you are ever so funny. Regardless, I've got the item."

 

[Rak]

Rak almost instantly reached out and grasped Minerva's shoulder.

Perhaps he was projecting his own sentiments onto her, but the half-orc had nearly jumped out of the bushes and rushed towards the woman the moment he'd seen that she was alone. A split second was all that had kept him at-bay.

That and the Tiefling's echoing voice.

Rage still built up inside of him, but he stayed his hand as the woman continued to speak with whomever was inside of the mirror. "I believe that sets the first part of your plan done."

She mused, the smugness ringing from her tone exactly what Rak had pictured. He wanted nothing less than to step out, don his armor, and rip off her horns. Yet he knew it was foolish, knew that it was better to wait. With the Eye she could easily step out of existence again.

They had to make sure they could catch her by surprise.

"Mercenaries next, no?" A voice echoed back to the woman, sounding distant and garbled but clearly answering yes. "Good good, I'll collect them next."

Rak frowned, glancing over towards Minerva. 'Mercenaries?''

He mouthed to her.