A Feast for the Liar's Tongue. [Crimson Edge]

by **Wrenmae** on April 20th, 2012, 2:18 pm

Curling a finger around a long lock of black hair Shroud smiled at Noben, putting a hand on one of the crates due to be brought to the remains of the docks for transport. If all continued to go according to plan, they'd never make their drop point.

"I'm used to dealing with Halmeyer," the suspicious Red Arrow said, scratching the back of his shaved skull, "He's always handled the deliveries and drop points." The four men around him nodded, likewise unsure at the turn of events. Shroud sighed, pushing an exasperated blast of air from his lips as he drummed his fingers along the crate on the wagon.

"For the last time," he explained, layering his voice with hypnotism, "Halmeyer's sick, old man can't make the delivery today, so he sent me." Hypnotic pulse sent ease and a sense of trustworthiness to the crook, not enough to tip the scales, but more than the fellow likely held toward him now. Noben didn't look convinced, itching at the stubble on his chin and glancing back at the door. Shroud wore the shape of a taller man, moprhing shaping him upwards into a lankier fellow of long dark tresses and a striking chin. There was little about Shroud that was reminiscent of the man save for hi dark eyes, calmly watching the Red Arrow's puzzle out the predicament of the situation.

Have you considered alerting your comrades about this little...operation?

I hadn't thought of it, Zan. They'd just want a cut.

Right. The cut. of course. Silly of me to forget our lives were measured and weighed by useless items.

Minted mizas, Zan, That's cash.

It's metal. Dumb metal. Why on Mizahar do you fleshbags find such allure in shiny things?

To wit, dear familiar, because they ARE so shiny.

Are you magpies or people?

...smartass

Bloodhound, his contact, had let him in on this little deal a week ago and it had taken Shroud nearly to deadline to get things prepared. In retrospect, the contact was more like a mentor at this point than some voice in the shadows for coin. Bloodhound had taught him the truest words ever spoken were those not uttered from the lips. Instead, Shroud watched the face and the hands, the rising and falling of breaths, the way the muscles twitched beneath fabric. It took little effort to speak falsely, but to exist falsely took a level of subterfuge few common rogues could grasp. Noben was in a bind and he knew it. There was no one else to deliver the goods and if his boys were spotted in the territory the crates were going to, there would almost certainly be a fight. The man he was supposed to meet had never mentioned the possibility he wouldn't make it, but Halmeyer's age had been an increasing problem in the last few months.

Shroud had done his research, finding it unnecessary to kill the old man and instead visited him three days in a row to keep him company while the old fisher told stories. The Blight took care of the rest.

Now he stood as the only man who could take the crates. Noben could refuse and wait, or accept and take the chance. Honestly, it seemed more in favor of a positive decision. Bloodhound had tipped that the Red Arrow was losing the smuggling war to the Bear's Teeth back in the Wolf's Den. It was probably to assume that without this delivery, the Bear's Teeth would almost certainly fill the void.

Noben sighed, defeated, clapping his hands together and jerking his head toward the cart. Immediately the Red Arrow gang members started to fill it with the crates, layering them side by side and stacked atop each other. "The boat will be flying a white flag at half-mast," Noben told Shroud, crossing his arms across his chest, "Deliver em and pick up your cut at the usual drop point." He paused, opened his mouth, closed it, and then continued, "Give the old man my best, huh?"

"Of course," Shroud placated, nodding, "I'll swing the word by when I'm done at the docks."

Noben seemed a little more pleased, at least hoping to the level of being confident that the work would get done. Shroud certainly didn't want to give him the impression otherwise, simply smiling and nodding his head. The other members worked without expression, simply doing as they had been ordered as their minds drifted elsewhere, out and beyond the building.

Three knocks broke the silence of the work, drawing all eyes to the back door guarded by the others. But three knocks was not the accepted passkey for entrance...and the front entrance remained vacant.

Noben nodded at three of the four in the room, men who took their weapons and glanced at each other before opening the door and heading out into the alley. The last thug and Noben now worked to put the last of the crates into the back of the wagon. The large bald man was visibly sweating now, opening his mouth to speak to Shroud when a female voice echoed from beyond the door. "Now!" It yelled, and the sound of combat immediately followed.

The leader growled, turning on Shroud with murder glinting in his eyes. "You set us up!"

Shroud, his heart starting to pump a little faster, shook his head in bewilderment, putting both hands up, "Not me! You think I would betray you while I was still in your presence?"

Yes?

Shut up. I'm trying to think.

Oh. I didn't know the question was rhetorical.

Noben paused, seeing the logic there and taking up his sword, nodding at his last soldier to take up posts besides the door. When it opened, the guard would swing his blade down on the first that entered, and Noben, long sword in one hand and crossbow in another, waited just beyond, ready to fire the bolt at whoever kept coming.

Shroud stood beside Noben, his own blade quickly in his hands. Disguised by magic though he was, he couldn't help but check his skin and hair for signs of revision, worried the stress might disspell the Djed keeping the shape intact.

All they could do was wait, as the swords clashed and banged beyond the door.

Preparing themselves to the sounds of screams and splatters, cornered and ready to bite.

by **Apos** on April 20th, 2012, 7:39 pm

Apos stood adjacent to Zan as she rapped the door, waiting for a response. Both of them out of sight, he looked at her once more than to the door. He thought back on the scene in the alley, and if he were thinking more clearly, he could have used the Arrow to open the door more safely, allowing his voice to be the recognition they needed. Either way though, it wouldn't matter they'd still meet conflict once inside. 'This was gonna be'a blood bath regardless'. He reached to his belt and withdrew his second ulak gripping the curved blades around his knuckles bracing himself as the door opened.

Obviously the three knocks weren't the usual signal for entrance, for out came three guards. Apos' eyes lowered in disappointment. 'What? Three guards for me? Fuckin' insulting.' He bounced off the wall with the cushion of his shoulder and from behind the darkness of his goggles his predatory eyes flashed to Zandelia as she let loose a "Now!"Apos watched as a single guard moved to Zan and 2 turned on him in apparent challenge. 'Typical.' Obviously at a disadvantage he stood light on his feet and held up his arms in a defensive position, waiting for an attack.

Apos could tell just from their crazed, straightforward gaze that they were brutes with no brains. He quickly calculated that he could quite possibly out-wit them but he enjoyed fighting enough to stretch out duels. The guard to the left, gripped his sword with both hands as he took a quick step forward with his left foot and made a plunge towards Apos as the other guard held his blade strongly in his right hand and performed an overhead strike to Apos' head. They may be stupid, but they're trained. His gnosis enhanced body moved and twisted to the side as he passed the stab, and blocked the over head swing with his right ulak. The strength of the blow gave a succession of numbing pain to Apos' hand as his arm dropped a bit in response to the strike.

He moved his arm to the left, knocking the blade away and resorted to a front horse kick, watching as it connected with the man sending him flying backwards and hitting the ground. Moving with the grace of a python, Apos juked to the left side of the remaining guard and swung his right hand down, plunging his ulak into the man's hand forcing to drop his weapon. Almost as soon as he opened his mouth to scream, Apos' left hand moved in a blur as it swept up and slit his throat turning the audible sound into the gurgles of blood as he hit the ground gripping his throat experiencing spasms of pain.

Stepping to the man he'd previously kicked down, he opened his hands and grabbed his head running it viciously into his knee feeling the bone of his frontal corona of his skull crack on impact. Dazed and on the line between consciousness and unconsciousness and death, Apos stepped over him, and lifted his leg performing a curb stomp attempting to smash his head into the hard concrete below them. Turning away from the pulp below, he glanced down the alley checking for witnesses before glancing in the door before entering. From what his memory decided to decipher in the blur of his vision, he saw a man standing with a crossbow and another with a sword. 'The top dogs stand and fight instead of fleeing for their lives. Honorable or Cocky? Doesn't matter.'

Figuring that they'd want more of a negotiation then outright violence, Apos pursed his ulaks to his leather belt and stepped inside, awaiting to see what would ensue. He failed to check on Zandelia and her opponent, but he figured the guard was more than outmatched. Apos had an instinct for knowing who's innocent around him, and what the eyes of a survivor looked like, and Zandelia had the look of a seasoned hunter ever since he first saw her in the Tavern.

by **Zandelia** on April 22nd, 2012, 3:32 am

The three thugs were not particularly well armed now that Zandelia had the chance to observe them at close quarters, taking in their forms and finding little to be impressed about. With their tattered and rough-spun clothing they showed signs of being a group that had run through a patch of bad luck that looked interminable. Their weapons may as well have been falling apart, rust pitting their edges, themselves looking dulled and chipped from her closer viewpoint. She smiled at the one that broke off to engage her personally, assuming an easier opponent in comparison to the larger and more overtly threatening Apos, noting that the way he moved was less the warrior and more the oaf. Still, she pulled out her tonfa and gave them a few lightning-fast whirls around her torso – giving the man a pause in his step.

Oh yes my friend, I am less the weakling and more the bitch. Now you see your death, and fear grips you, pulls you under and forestalls your striding she thought to herself as her grin turned into a small snarl.

“Come on then, I haven’t got all day,” Zandelia taunted the man, aware that in the close quarters of the alley his sword would count for less than her tonfa if she could force him to make a mistake, “I still have to go inside and take what is mine. Don’t want to be at it all night just because a lump of dung kicked up a stink” she finished as she kept her tonfa moving about her. Her movements were slower now, leaving her purposefully open – or so the thug would think.

“Oh, me and the lads will have fun bending you over a basin, whore!” he retorted with a few grunts a she leapt forwards, aiming a strike at Zandelia’s head, blade flat and attempting a knock-out blow.

Zandelia stopped the twirling of her tonfa, letting them slap back against her forearms, running up and past the elbow and providing a good blocking mechanism. She brought her left arm up to block the blow, cushioning it and letting her arm give slightly as metal rasped upon metal. She took the opportunity afforded her t step inside his guard as she pushed away his blade, watching with satisfaction as it scraped against the nearby wall, hampering him further. She thrust her right arm forwards in a forceful punching motion, the tip of her tonfa hammering into the thug’s ribs accompanied with a cracking sound a bone split slightly and a scream was ripped from his throat. He was bent over now, his sword flailing wildly as he fought for survival against the odds. She pressed her advantage as she dusked under a wild slash and hammered both of her tonfa, one after the other, into his right knee – the combination all but shattering his kneecap.

If it hadn’t been broken before it definitely was as his knee collapsed upon itself and slammed into the ground. He tried for one last thrust that she blocked with her tonfa crossed in an x-shape, forcing the attack down and into the ground. She kicked the blade out of his hand and watched as tears began to mist his vision with self-pity. She gave little mercy beyond a switch death, knee smashing into his chin to bring it up and ready for a sideways chop to his windpipe – the force of both her arm and her tonfa behind it caving it in swiftly. She stepped over his still thrashing body as asphyxiation set in and she approached the door behind Apos.

I wonder… she thought as she let her eyes begin to take upon their more supernatural powers – aura reading.

She was lucky she had decided to do so, fortune favoring the bold this day seemingly. Her gaze captured the aura of an unknown assailant, as well as the two presumable leaders further inside the darkened room, just ahead of the Myrian, presumably a guard in hiding behind the door and ready to attack the now unnamed and unprepared Apos. She grabbed the Myrian by the arm and with all of her strength she dragged him backwards, though in truth it was more of a stumbling as she pulled him out of the doorway and back out into the alleyway, shoving them both into the wall again. She took a few moments for deep breathing as she became all too aware of their closeness, grunting to herself and looking up at his face as she prodded her finger into his chest.

“Petching bastard, you’ll get yourself killed in this town” she hissed as she thumped him with a gauntleted hand and flicked herself back towards the other side of the door, ducking a little so as to provide a smaller target as she swiftly took up a hidden position again.

She looked at Apos pointedly and nodded at her side of the door, mouthing to him that there was a guard behind the door and that he was ready to kill them with one quick blow of whatever weapon he possessed. She rapped her head against the wall lightly as she thought rapidly, not wishing to lose too much initiative that had been earned so quickly. She looked around, down upon the bodies, back up at Apos and to the door, then to the bodies upon the floor once more. A shrewd smile lit up her features as an idea coalesced within her mind, deadly and unexpected. Ironic too, as she was about to suggest a human shield made up of their own bretheren.

“So, six dead by two hands, and two left to face the wrath all alone,” she called out to the three whom were left, “what say we talk terms and put an end to the bloodshed? You never know, we might have had our fill of killing this day. Either way your goods are now forfeit. There are another ten to follow behind us, on their way as we speak now. I might not be able to restrain all of them now” she crooned at them, her words a lie but with them having no way of knowing.

Let’s end this petching game whilst we’re winning she told herself as she pointed for Apos to the bodies.

“Pick it up and throw it through the door” she mouthed at him again, hoping that their ruse would work and that at least the man behind the door would fall for the ploy.

by **Apos** on April 28th, 2012, 12:46 am

Apos' empty eyes continued to look at them, straight and focused until it moved in a blur as he felt a tug on his arm and all of a sudden he was being dragged back out into the alley. As he stumbled he quickly regained his footing and extended his left hand past Zandelia, using the wall as a push-point. As they slowed he instinctively placed his right hand on the small of her back, cushioning the impact as they came to a halt. As he inhaled and exhaled a few times, he noticed their closeness, sure that Zandelia did also. He listened to her as she spoke and dropped his hand to release her as she made her move to the door.

'Wreckless Apos. You're getting wreckless.' He thought to himself.

Moving to the side of the door lateral to Zan's position he looked at her as she mouthed that there was a guard behind the door. Apos mad an exaggerated face as to say how disappointed he was in himself. He could have easily been offed that moment, but she'd saved him. Saved? The word ran through his head continuously. For some odd reason, he didn't let his ego get in his way though. Apos accepted the standing fact that it happened, for he was completely oblivious to the man standing by the door. How embarrassing. He looked at her again watching her gaze as it went to the body, back to himself, then back to the body. When she smiled he cocked an eye brow up and lightly chuckled to himself.

"Really...a meat shield."

Zandelia's threat to those inside was well put, he heard her say what to do and flexed as he walked over the corpses. Myrians, quite naturally, were stronger than one's average human among other things so the weight of the bodies weren't a problem. He hefted one by the back of the neck and lifted him with his left hand, also being aided in strength by his gnosis mark. He could only imagine that Zandelia had formulated a plan to execute afterwards, so he tossed the body clear into the room and glanced across the door to her.

by **Wrenmae** on April 30th, 2012, 10:48 am

Hanging back in the shadows, side by side with his associate, Shroud watched Zandelia hurl herself from the shadows to remove the Myrian from impending death. There was a sequence of emotional responses that accompanied the observation, clashing against each other in awkward lines as they passed through his body. First was the surprise that someone had thought to remove this hulking brute from the path of death, then a twinge of dismay for such a well though, albeit simple, plan falling on ruin. Then there was recognition, shock again, followed shortly by irritation, and thrummed to a feverpitch of rage. What in all the gods was that phallic object wielding whore doing here?

Oh hey! An Ally!

Shut up, Zan. I didn't need their help.

No? But they seem to be doing so well.

Shut. Up.

I dunno. Sounds counterintuitive to my whole partnership thing.

Ruining your plans, of course, but that would have been the most direct and obvious of answers. It certainly merited some thought, at least now in the space between one action and another. She was here by direction, no doubt, and almost certainly without backup. Unless she was hiding a small army in her bosom (Not exactly a thought outside logic), the Crimson Edge wasn't with her on this. Cade and Mok would never allow her to take the lead so openly...and the rest of the Crimson Edge were a group of loosely skilled blowhards looking for shelter in Cade's idealistic 'family'.

No, it was probably just her and the Myrian.

Who the blazes WAS that guy?

Did Zandelia just...pick up capable warriors of the street and set them against well thought out plans? Did she subconciously live to thwart him and his carefully plotted heists?

Of course not. That would be ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous...but a small part of him wondered, and that part of him watched the trajectory of the flailing body and the man at the door swing down, his sword caught in the body and wrenching it from his hands.

He knew this match was set.

The boss was pushing the cart back against the wall, keeping his crossbow leveled at the door. "What do you want!" He yelled, menacing the portal, "Who are you?"

Shroud was quiet, his disguise's face scrunching up with thought before he laid a hand on the mans shoulder.

"Don't let them cower you, if there were more they would have stormed us by now. Probably only the two of them. We can still walk out of this, let me handle it."

The larger man nodded, his neck bobbing dumbly as he glanced back at the supplies.

Cracking his fingers, Shroud cupped a hand along the side of his face and called out to them, "That many eh? You won't mind then, if I call your bluff. I think it's only you two out there. No backup, no help, just two mercs looking for a payoff." He smiled, "You may have...culled our ranks a little, but the first one through that door with a pulse is getting a quarrel in the face. Not tempting odds. You all did well, but I suggest letting us take our supplies and getting on our way."

I don't get it. Are they allies?

Not right now.

But later?

In a way.

I'm not sure I understand your management strategy.

Will you just let me think?

I would if you would keep on task. Not my fault you're so easily distracted.

He took a breath, let it out.

"We don't need any more killing...on either side."

by **Archelon** on September 28th, 2012, 5:29 am

Thread Award

"..."

And the Results!!!!:

Apos :

Zandelia :

Wrenmae :

Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? :