Monarch
"Bastard," she hissed, dragging herself across the bloody ground. Her body was spent, her bones broken, every ounce of strength she had left quickly being sapped by fatigue. The broken pavement of Stumble Alley drank in her blood eagerly, the stones seeming to swell and grow vibrant as another life met its end atop them. Against the scene there came a spattering of rain, the thunderclouds dark in the sky above. Zulrav's rumbling overshadowed the dying woman's constant cursing, as her calloused fingers gripped desperately at the ground, hoping to find purchase. "Bastard!" She gave a hoarse scream, turning her scarred face to the heavens and gritting her teeth. "When I find you again, you son of a bitch, I swear to Rhysol himself I'll see you dead!"
"Do you hear me? You'll pay for this!" Then, feeling a sudden surge of weakness, the woman collapsed, her head striking the pavement. The only sounds she could manage now were meaningless groans, pained moaning, the pathetic whimpers a gutted pig might make as it reached the end. No one came to her aid, nor was there anyone waiting for her elsewhere in the city. Her life had been blood and steel and tears, and it was with blood and steel and tears that she met her end.
In the morning, her body would be discovered and trigger an uproar amongst the city. But tonight, she died alone.
51st of Spring, 515 AV
"Petch", came the grumble from Long-Pike as he stared up at the sky, his face wrinkling in displeasure. "I think it's going to rain again."
Most of the Daggerhands that surrounded the young man made no comment, instead giving out long sighs and shuffling their steps to relieve boredom. But Mikro, a half-blood from Falyndar, took the bait and sidestepped over to Long-Pike's side. "You sure? It was clear all day."
Giving a knowing smile, the recruit nodded sagely. "Trust me, it's going to rain. My nose can pick up a gale from a thousand leagues away. I know when it's going to hit and where. And this part of the city is going to be floundering come midnight."
Mikro was impressed by this pronouncement, but the other men and women around just sighed or rolled their eyes. Everyone knew not to take Long-Pike's words for granted, because Long-Pike was a notorious liar and a horrendous cheat. And everyone knew that this assignment was going to be tedious enough without Long-Pike talking his mouth off. The best they could hope for was a quick, routine assignment, finished within a bell or two, followed by a retreat indoors for the night. No one wanted to be out on these streets, even in force, once dusk had completely passed.
The sunset painted the sky a vibrant orange with small patches of blue interwoven through it, no signs of the thunderclouds that Long-Pike had promised. The dozen Daggerhand Brothers and Sisters stood gathered on a lonely street corner near the entrance to Stumble Alley, waiting for their superior to arrive and give them more instructions. Earlier in the day they had been notified by their fellows that their boss, the newly-minted Big Sister Lucina Carter, was preparing a trip into Stumble Alley and needed their help. Carter had almost twenty-five blades at her command, but summoned only half of them to her side. That was a dangerous move, especially considering the tense atmosphere that had plagued the city last winter. But, then again, Carter was well-known for being a dangerous gang leader, prone to all sorts of risky escapades and bizarre strategies. That was a strength of hers, but that didn't make serving under her any more of a relief.
And suddenly, there was the woman herself: tall, heavily scarred, only a small wisp of brown hair remaining on her otherwise mangled scalp. In one hand there was equipped a set of brass knuckles... the other bore a wickedly sharp battle axe. "Alright," she growled as she approached, refusing to break her stride as she walked towards Stumble Alley. "Simple run. We go in, shake a few places up, get out. No problems, no questions. Let's go."
"Do you hear me? You'll pay for this!" Then, feeling a sudden surge of weakness, the woman collapsed, her head striking the pavement. The only sounds she could manage now were meaningless groans, pained moaning, the pathetic whimpers a gutted pig might make as it reached the end. No one came to her aid, nor was there anyone waiting for her elsewhere in the city. Her life had been blood and steel and tears, and it was with blood and steel and tears that she met her end.
In the morning, her body would be discovered and trigger an uproar amongst the city. But tonight, she died alone.
51st of Spring, 515 AV
"Petch", came the grumble from Long-Pike as he stared up at the sky, his face wrinkling in displeasure. "I think it's going to rain again."
Most of the Daggerhands that surrounded the young man made no comment, instead giving out long sighs and shuffling their steps to relieve boredom. But Mikro, a half-blood from Falyndar, took the bait and sidestepped over to Long-Pike's side. "You sure? It was clear all day."
Giving a knowing smile, the recruit nodded sagely. "Trust me, it's going to rain. My nose can pick up a gale from a thousand leagues away. I know when it's going to hit and where. And this part of the city is going to be floundering come midnight."
Mikro was impressed by this pronouncement, but the other men and women around just sighed or rolled their eyes. Everyone knew not to take Long-Pike's words for granted, because Long-Pike was a notorious liar and a horrendous cheat. And everyone knew that this assignment was going to be tedious enough without Long-Pike talking his mouth off. The best they could hope for was a quick, routine assignment, finished within a bell or two, followed by a retreat indoors for the night. No one wanted to be out on these streets, even in force, once dusk had completely passed.
The sunset painted the sky a vibrant orange with small patches of blue interwoven through it, no signs of the thunderclouds that Long-Pike had promised. The dozen Daggerhand Brothers and Sisters stood gathered on a lonely street corner near the entrance to Stumble Alley, waiting for their superior to arrive and give them more instructions. Earlier in the day they had been notified by their fellows that their boss, the newly-minted Big Sister Lucina Carter, was preparing a trip into Stumble Alley and needed their help. Carter had almost twenty-five blades at her command, but summoned only half of them to her side. That was a dangerous move, especially considering the tense atmosphere that had plagued the city last winter. But, then again, Carter was well-known for being a dangerous gang leader, prone to all sorts of risky escapades and bizarre strategies. That was a strength of hers, but that didn't make serving under her any more of a relief.
And suddenly, there was the woman herself: tall, heavily scarred, only a small wisp of brown hair remaining on her otherwise mangled scalp. In one hand there was equipped a set of brass knuckles... the other bore a wickedly sharp battle axe. "Alright," she growled as she approached, refusing to break her stride as she walked towards Stumble Alley. "Simple run. We go in, shake a few places up, get out. No problems, no questions. Let's go."
