Freedom's Delusion (Crimson Edge)

by **Wrenmae** on March 8th, 2012, 5:20 am

Shroud left the dead men where they lay, only briefly pausing to relieve them of whatever goods they may have possessed. In the darkness, shapes drifted between vision, perching in strange corners and filling the shadows with malice. It wasn't that Shroud feared these things...no, never that. Magic was the work of something unknowable, and to confront the unknowable was to put oneself in danger. He didn't want a loose tongue spreading rumors of a man who could give the illusion of insects, not so soon. Certainly he could rely on his knife work for the remainder of the evening, but even that was poorly trained, regimented. He wasn't as deft with it as he could be.

Mok vanished into an alley and Shroud followed, smaller than the half blood by at least a head, lankier as well. They made a strange match, side by side on the Sunberth streets. On each corner, to each passerby, Shroud made small notes in his mind. Here was a good spot to lie in wait, here was a poor spot to turn if on a footchase. Here is where the beggars creep, here is where the cutthroats leap. Like every city, with pockmarks of personality riddling its face...Sunberth was a new sort of desperate.

"Where to then, Mok?" Shroud asked quietly, striding in his shadow, "What does someone of the blade do for fun when the evening settles?"

by **Mok** on March 12th, 2012, 2:43 am

The myrian didn't answer Shroud right away. He kept on walking through the dirty, grimy streets. The shadows of the buildings intertwined together to form a net of cruel blackness. The blackness wasn't absolute though. The moonlight pierced it in an eerie glow. It was just the way he liked it too. The shadow silk he was wearing concealed him in total darkness. The noise of his armor was also dampened. None would hear Mok walking. None would see him. Perfect Sunberthian camo. This is how the myrian traversed the city: unknown. His comings and goings where his own, and none else could tell him otherwise.

Making his way towards Tall Johnny's and the night eyes territory, Mok took quickest and fastest paths to the main entrance. He followed the alleyways that ran perpendicular to the casino. His plan: to cut across once they were close. These paths were not always the safest, but he traversed them anyways. He was confident that his camo would deter most encounters. Plus Mok wasn't afraid of anything tonight.

The myrian had gotten himself into a little situation earlier and tonight was the night he would return to Tall Johnny's and straighten things out. Mok's plan was bold and risky. It would involve a lot of blood. It would be dangerous. It would be exactly what any red blooded Sunberthian gangster would do. He owed money, but he rather be damned than pay it. Someone else was going to pay for it. Wrenmae didn't know who yet, but that was what this little walk was all about. If everything went well, his new partner would get good stake in the rewards as well.

Suddenly the half-blood stopped in his tracks, turned towards Shroud, grabbed his groin, "Leave everything behind! Throw everything on the line!" Mok did not know why he did that. It was random and had no context. He just wanted to remind Wrenmae that every aspect of what they were about to do was a gamble. It was a gangster's way of life.

Hoping to psyche him up even more, Mok continued, "We go to cast Lhex's dice. To pay the price without counting the cost. To leave everything behind and throw our LIVES on the line. That is when the reward is truly greatest."

~~~

The myrian reached the end of his path. They were deep in the Night Eyes territory now and minutes from Tall Johnny's. The myrian knew of a place that always had dice games going on. It was easy enough to get to; the problem was there was no way to sneak up on them.

A healthy distance away from the doors entrance, Mok turned to Wrenmae and explained the plan, "Alright, I really can't go into this place, you feel me? They got my head dialed in there. This is what we are going to do. You walk in there. If we CAN take them stay inside and get ready to make them bleed, you see? If any of them escape, it is our heads. If we CAN NOT take them, you leave right away alright? Not a minute to spare, because I'll be wrecking the place within a minute if you don't come out."

Before Shroud left though, Mok grabbed his arm and locked eyes with him, "Remember, it's your life in there too."

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

by **Wrenmae** on March 12th, 2012, 5:46 am

Shroud was silent, motionless save for his long legs striding along the back alley darkness. He wasn't here to waste time and this associate was certainly proving himself to be trustworthy. Strange perhaps, crazy...almost certainly, but a trustworthy kind of blood haze. Mok was the sort of man who could care little about Shroud's little penchant for magic. It was pointless to hide it around him...he was a man who believed in getting things done, which meant in the most effective way possible. Rarity in Sunberth certainly, especially with the conspiratorial whispers haunting alleys and taverns.

He followed the savage, keeping pace with the larger man while remaining serenely silent. There was no need to speak, not then. Speaking came only when it was necessary to plan. But tonight was a different sort of wild. He felt invincible, felt as though he could walk through a hail of arrows unharmed. Taking life had empowered him and he basked in the afterglow of the sensation.

So when Mok asked him to step into the abandoned building, smothered conversation filtering from badly patched windows, Shroud simply nodded and stepped in.

He was small there, the smallest one among the crouched dealers and the towering body guard. He paid the larger man no mind, walking all the way to the back of the small place. Three gamblers, looking up leery from the darkness of the badly lit room. Shroud's dark eyes caught the shadows between light, holding his face in gloom.

Held there a moment, silent, waiting for Mok to take the signal, he balled a hand into a fist. Stepping forward he brought it out wildly, taking a bearded gambler by the chin and bowling him over. The other two men and the guard both gave a shout, standing to hem in Shroud as he backed away towards the far end of the shack. He hadn't redrawn his dagger, not yet. There was no sudden need.

Their attention was focused on him, all their eyes on his body, on his own.

Shroud smiled.

Perfect.

"Gentlemen," He said, holding out his hands, empty, "Let us not worry about who has hurt who here...and certainly, while I would welcome your retribution...should you not look to yourselves first?"

Djed pumped suddenly, layering his words with terrible meaning.

"How can you threaten me while your skin is burning?"

by **Mok** on March 12th, 2012, 6:50 am

Silently, Wrenmae walked from the ally. He gave no hesitation. No whining words or question. Simply action. The myrian was beginning to love this man more and more. He was not only a man of action but a man of words. Mok could sense the darkness in his heart as well. This man here was just like Mok. This man was a true gambler. The myrian loved it. The Shroud that had now taken over Wrenmae's body had made friends with the half-blood.

"I can petch with this type of guy. I like him," Mok said under his breath as he waited to attack. Suddenly, the anticipation and excitement of what was about to ensure began to fill his body. He began to feel all giddy and happy. One could describe the sensation similar to a boy kissing his first girl. Lhex's balls! Mok practically had a hard on. Every second that Wrenmae remained inside of the room brought Mok closer to the fight. No matter how many times it happened, he still got this feeling of excitement.

Wrenmae's time limit was up. It was time to storm the room. If he was sorely outnumbered, he would simply run and leave his partner to the vultures. He didn't expect that though. Wrenmae didn't look like or act like an idiot. He had the confidence that Wrenmae would execute the plan. It was a simple concept to understand after all.

Breaking into full sprint, Mok reached the entrance in seconds. Flinging the door open, the scene was clear. One bodyguard and three gamblers. Wrenmae had already started on one of the gamblers. Splendid! Now all of the attention was on his lanky friend.

Rushing forward into the smoky room, Mok's sword point found the back of a man's neck. Sinking into the man's flesh, Mok caught the drunken man totally by surprise. One easy kill. No one easy cold blooded murder. His actions would not go unpunished though. The heavy hand of the guard's sword came down next.

Raising his sword to parry the blow, the myrian proceeded to enter into combat with the armed guard. Immediately, the two began to exchange blows. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right Mok stepped. His opponent was skilled and broken everyone one of his slashes and stabs. Mok tried striking at every point of his body but there was no avail. The only thing keeping Mok alive right now was his footwork. He needed to think of another plan.

CLANK!

The two men locked blades once more. The myrian used his whole body and pushed against the man's blade in attempt to drive him backwards. If he could force the guard into the wall, it would increase his chances of finishing the fight as quickly as possible.

His plan was short lived though. Only being able to push his opponent a few feet backwards, the warrior resorted to unarmed combat. Using his free hand, Mok punched the man as hard he possibly could. Mok put all his energy in this strike. He left nothing in his tank. He put everything on the line.

"HIYAAAHH!" Mok yelled as he brought his fist back for another strike. Whack! He hit the man again, this time forcing him to back off and regain his footing. Mok wasted no time though, sprinting forward, the myrian made for a low stab at the man, which was expertly parried from on top. Redirecting his blade, Mok countered attacked.

Now the myrian was thinking clearly again and not just sally wagging with the man. His current objective was to get into the man's fame and beat his inside leverage. It was sure victory.

Slashing and stabbing away, Mok constantly pressed forward. Even if he made no progress in the duel, he would keep his opponent on the defense the whole time. At least until he had lured the man where he wanted.

By now both men where teeming with exhaustion, even though they had been fighting for less than two minutes. Mok needed to finish this. Getting into his viper attacking stance, Mok flipped his hips. Switched up his footwork and began to attack from the opposite side in attempt to throw his opponent off guard. IT worked this time, because within seconds, Mok landed a wounding strike.

Success. Moments later, the myrian cut down the man. It was all over. The myrian stood over the blood body and regained his breath.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

by **Wrenmae** on March 12th, 2012, 9:47 am

If anything, Mok was a fair hand at distracting the larger and more dangerous opponents. As the gamblers and the guard looked down in horror at their perceived burning skin, the half blood barreled into the room and buried a blade in the back of one gambler's throat. The man fell, surprised to be burning and dead at once...the look of incredulity and terror still stamped painfully across his face. As the guard was forced out of the hallucination battling Mok, Wrenmae stepped forward and drew his blade. The first man alive, rolling on the ground to put out the imagined flames received the dagger in the chest, once, twice, thrice, and four times before the agony and damage forced him to stop moving.

The last living was shaking the effects of the illusion off as Shroud stood from his latest victim. Growling, the man drew a dagger of his own and rushed at the killer, obviously pushed into combat by the circumstance. Shroud stepped back, narrowly avoiding the forward thrust from the blade. He yanked his own up, a barrier of steel between them, when his opponent thrust in, he parried, clanking his longer blade against the dagger to send it wide, stepping in to bring his fist against his opponent's chin. Staggering back, the gambler pressed, thrusting the dagger again and again at Shroud's body. The killer was pushed backwards by the ferocity, always skirting around tables or nearly tripping over chairs as he tried to keep the tip away from his body. The blows were wild, not aimed, but laced with the desperation of someone pushed to the edge of survival.

Shroud parried as best he could, flattening against the wall and rolling suddenly right as the dagger passed into the wall. Rolling back over the hand, Shroud forced his opponent to drop the blade, grabbing the collar of his robe and pulling the man forward, stabbing him viciously with the dagger, again and again passing the blade into the warm stomach and chest.

Pulling it back and letting the gambler fall, Shroud glared to Mok, basking in the afterglow of his triumph.

"There will almost certainly be retribution," Shroud reminded, "Had these men a profitable reason to die?"

by **Mok** on March 14th, 2012, 1:58 am

Mok did not answer Shroud. He went straight to work. He figured that his companion would follow in suit. Searching the bodies inside and out, Mok tried his hardest to pocket every last Miza that the gambler's had on them. There was no point in counting though. No time for that. The myrian also pocketed anything he could find on their bodies, including the weapons that the body guard carried.

With loot in hand Mok sprinted to the door and wait for Wrenmae to catch up to him. Cracking the door open Mok looked either way down the ally. The coast was clear. Drawing his hood, the myrian made sure that if any watching eyes were present, they would at least not see his face. If anything, it would be more difficult for someone to identify him. This was a risk that Mok was willing to take. He would pay the price, but not count the cost. To the myrian the monatary gain was worth everything.

Sprinting out from the building, Mok retraced his steps across the allyways. He ran as fast as he possible could. Covering as much distance as he could with each step, he took full strides. The moment that his foot touched the floor he pushed off with all the power of his legs. His body began to bound and float through the streets. He did not look back, he did not look forward. Running, running, running. This was all that filled Mok's mind now. One foot infront of the other. Over and Over. His whole life was in the flight now. All the energy in his body and mind was in the chase. That is all he cared about. That is all that mattered. His body was running on full instinct by now.

He needed to get out of Night Eyes territory as quickly as possible. One could argue that walking away silently would have been just fine, but Mok didn't care. He just wanted to leave the scene of the murders. If he could find himself in another part of the city, it would cross his name from the list as quickly as possible. He was hot. Last week he had bloodied this Night Eyes room. Doing a second time was a gamble, but Mok was a gambling man.

Finally, the myrian stopped. He was finally eye shot and ear shot out of the Night Eyes territory. Leaning over the myrian dropped the stolen weapons on the floor and tried to catch his breath back. He had lost all control now. His breathing was deep and frequent. After several minutes, the myrian rose back up.

"Ready? Lets head to the Sunset Quarter."

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

by **Wrenmae** on March 26th, 2012, 11:58 am

Shroud frowned, pausing briefly over the bodies to memorize their features with his fingers. Scars, marks, hair, beards, the differences of humans to be stored for later. He hadn't the time to make use of morphing, but hopefully this sparse investigation would let him refine his changes later. Mok was out the door, a nervous frenzy in his arms and legs. He moved uncertainly, no doubt unnerved to their location. Personally, everything was a mystery to Shroud. He didn't know Sunberth, couldn't tell one sagging waste of a building from another. He recognized death however, the smell, the way it tickled his nostrils with sweet decomposition. Vayt would like this place, and thanks to the Blight, he would be here as well...and Shroud his humble servant, spreading the ill will of tests to the strong and weak alike.

The only trick was that the strong would shake it off, but the weak would litter the ditches with their bodies.

Shroud paused again, taking the secret sowed pouch tucked inside a gambler's vest and emptying it of coins. He sighed, following behind Mok. They made their way from the darkness of the alleys and back toward the way they'd come.

Around them the city never slept, only moved and sometimes crushed others in its nighttime rustlings.

Shroud caught up to the big man and sighed, looking down an alley and back to him skeptically. "What's in Sunset Quarter?"

by **Mok** on March 29th, 2012, 1:03 am

Mok walked and talked. He wasted no time chatting in a dead beat alley. They had to find the Sunset Quarter as soon as possible. Mok had enough work tonight. Now he just wanted to buy some pulp with his big score and buy a night of relaxation for himself and his friend.

"Sunset Quarter? You new to Sunberth? Right. Yup the Sunset Quarter is where we are going to get some pulp tonight," Mok said over his shoulder.

Mok explained to Wrenmae what he meant, "Pulp. It is a magnificent herb. Pulp will make you feel good. Pulp will introduce you to your mind. It will unlock your head. You feel me? It is the best. You got to try it."

"Also while we are there, I'll be sure to buy some whores. It is important that we buy whore too, you feel me. Your going to want one once you try this stuff."

"I could do something more useful, but once you try it you’re going to change your mind, just watch and see," Mok finished, "Keep your eyes on the streets, you’re going to have to know them inside and out once I am done with you."

Onward both men walked into the darkness. Mok would visit the pulp den from earlier. He had some friends there that would be happy to hook him up with some good stuff, as long as they could partake in the fun too. There Mok was bound to find some wench ready to drop her knickers at the mention of a pulp hit. Tonight was going to be great! Live for the moment. Even if he had to spend half of his night’s earnings it was worth it. Why? Because he lived with no regrets and lived for pleasure and for blood. This time of the night was for pleasure only.

Live free, die hard. Do not count the cost, but pay the price. Feel good, work good, fight good. This was Mok's life.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

by **Ink** on April 29th, 2012, 8:28 pm

And in the Aftermath . . .

The Rewards are Revealed.

Wrenmae :

Written in the ink :