Strangers in the Night (Zoe)

[Andar]

30th of Spring, 515 AV. Night.


"It's all there. The finest product miza can buy. You got the money?"

Andar watched as the speaker accepted a small bag, tossed it up once as if he could determine the wealth within by a mere heft. A handshake followed and both hooded men walked away in opposite directions.

Andar slipped out of an abandoned second-story building window, hooking his legs around and sliding carefully down a rope he had tied to a bedpost anchored against the wall. It was a handy little spot he discovered early that spring. Many of Sunberth's more discreet dealings happened right below him. Armed with the knowledge they carried something of value worth stealing, he would trail the mark through the twisting alleys and streets of Sunberth, hoping to find an opportune time to pick their pocket, or if they led him back to their home - attempt a burglary. The thief nimbly dropped to the filthy cobbles, slipped hood over tawny locks, and wove his way down the street, keeping to the shadows whenever possible.

His mark moved with a slight limp to his gait. The enfolding cloak was of good material; fur-lined with a few stitches of embroidery, a nondescript shade of dark-brown. It expanded at the man's waist, suggesting whatever he did for a living, he wasn't doing so poorly at the dinner table. Andar maintained a safe distance that did not alert his mark to his presence. Andar also noted how the fellow intentionally took less direct routes through the city. But there was no hestiation in his step, he knew where he was going and more importantly, who to avoid. This man had enemies then. Powerful enemies perhaps, beyond what most Sunberthians would call justified paranoia.

He followed the man to where the alley spilled out onto the Seaside baazar. He had to slip hurriedly behind a stack of crates when the man paused at the alley mouth and suddenly peered back into the gloom. Andar hung there, daring not to move a muscle. A dirty-looking gray cat with pronounced ribs hopped down from one of the crates and promptly rubbed itself uninvited on Andar's leg, purring softly. Andar silently cursed the animal while he tried to stay quiet and out of sight. Hoping the man wasn't curious enough to investigate the source of feline affection.

He heard the man's footsteps recede a couple ticks later. The Kelvic rogue stealthily followed without so much as a wave to the pesky cat. His roving stare found the man limping down the street, passing by stalls attended by merchants whose tongues never tired of hawking their wares - even at night. The faces were lit by lanterns, some young with seducing eyes, others lined with age. The faces were as diverse as the goods they looked to sell. Skin tones ranged from nut-browns to creamy whites. Merchandise ranged from purple silk scarves to spiced chicken to gleaming steel swords.

Enticing words honed to a marketable sheen flowed to his ears as Andar did his best to remain inconspicuous; pausing to glance at a set of marble figurines upon a checkered field.

"Exquisite aren't they? I bought this in Zeltiva, the last of its kind! See how detailed the craftsmanship is?" said a tan-skinned man with a smile so wide it looked ready to slip right off his narrow face.

Andar offered a slight nod and continued on. He heard the merchant hail the next traveler by just as smoothly. He didn't hurry, but kept his mark in sight at all times. It was an easy thing to lose someone at night in the bustle of the bazaar.

[Zoe Collins]

Zoe had a target. A mark, a contract, a body to kill. A notice for the job posting has been pinned up at the board at the Establishment, and she had ripped it off as soon as she saw it. The advert had asked for someone not afraid to get their hands dirty in getting rid of a person. More details would then be discussed in person. She had then went on to the meeting location mentioned in the letter and met her employer. She was informed of the target, what he looked like, what he usually wore and where he usually hang out.

Noting the fact that he usually wore better clothing that the average Sunberth citizen, he must have been richer than most. In such a poor city like Sunberth, it was very easy to be considered rich here, all you had to do was dress and live alot better than most of the townsfolk.

That was several days ago. She had spent the last few days, locating him, before spending the rest of the time spying on him, trying to see if he had any discernible pattern of moving around or spending his day. She was happy to note that he did. He had a habit of taking a browse through the Seaside bazaar after a night of drinking in the Pig's foot tavern. Zoe had also followed him back to his home, sneaking around a close distance behind him, as he had made his way home, not knowing that he was being followed.

She wanted to find out if he lived alone, or if he had any family that he stayed with. Those tended to complicate things, if she had to account for that, if she wanted to 'off him. After three days of tailing him closely to-and-fro about his daily activities, she was glad to find out that he indeed lived alone. So it was highly probable that no one close to him would find him missing and cause any alarm of sort. She was no mere mercenary, she was an assassin. An assassin didn't rely on force to achieve its results. It used its wits and skills to carry out the act, and remain uncaught. It was all about the proper timing.

Tonight, she felt that she was confident enough it taking the target out. She had gathered enough information on him, and it was time to strike. Opportunity waited for no one. Setting up her waiting spot near the tavern a few bells after darkness fell, she stood near the ruined window in the abandoned building as she waited for him to leave. It was a bell later before he finally exited the tavern. She noticed something a little off though, he did not appear as tipsy as normally was. He must have drank less than usual.

As to why that would be, the reason remained unknown to her. Determined, she was unwilling to change the date because of such a small matter, she was quite sure, it was nothing substantial. The streets were quiet, and there was hardly anyone about. The only noise generated in the area came from the tavern, and that was great news to her.

As he began to move off a distance away from her building, she swung the medium-sized grappling hook she had with her and with the target far enough away, he would not been able to hear the soft clink as the hooks caught onto the bars of the lamp post.

Pulling at the rope to ensure that it was secure, she found that it was taut and steady, climbing out and using her acrobatics training as a guide, she climbed onto the rope and swung both legs onto them, climbing down the rope using all of her limbs facing upwards. As she reached the end of the lamp post, she unhooked it and leap off the post, yet another one of those she had made sure to practice frequently.

Stowing back the hook in the slim backpack she carried, she proceeded to continue to tail the mark in the distance ahead. As she made up for lost time and begun to maintain a close enough distance to see what her target was doing and yet remain unseen, she could make out that he was wearing a fur-lined coat, a simpler one that the one he usually wore.

Yet another sign that deferred from his usual behaviour. Nonetheless, she was not overly concerned yet. He still seemed to be following his usual route after all. The human traffic started to increase as the target moved into the Seaside bazaar, and she had to pay close attention if she did not want to lose him.

That would be hideously embarrassing indeed.

[Andar]

The hooded man hooked a left between merchant stalls, and limped on. He slipped out of Andar's view when a group of tough-looking men with weapons at their belts passed him by, coming toward the thief. One mercenary (or at least he supposed that is what they were) joshed another and was rebuked with a grappling arm hold. Andar kept wisely away from them, though the one closest to his left eyed him threateningly in passing.

He released a sigh of relief as their mirth died away and he caught sight of his mark once more, farther down the bazaar lane, and to the right. The man halted and cut through a stall devoted to glassware, the lantern light reflecting brightly on the pieces up for display. There he clasped hands with a short, balding man with glass earrings. Andar pondered moving over to inspect the glass items, to overhear what the men were saying.

That would be a bit too suspicious though and he wasn't willing to fall under scrutiny just yet. So he casually strolled on by, finding himself on the well trod edge of the bazaar, littered with garbage. The main thoroughfare stretched east and west from there, the footsteps of scant few Sunberthians cloaked in night's shroud moved down its course. Beyond the road he could see lantern light puddled over live merchandise - Slaver's Market.

Above the stalls of human flesh and pavilions, he saw the lavish houses of Slaver's Row. It was a mockery to his eyes. Stealing was an artform at least. A dance of sorts. Sure, he wasn't going to win any awards for most decent fellow around, but he gave a little of his profits to charity when he could afford it. The whole thing stank. No really, it did stank. He could smell the reek of human offal and sweat even from there. The poor chained people had a resigned look to their eyes. Their dirty emaciated bodies crisscrossed with lash wounds. As a Sunberthian he was told to denounce anything and everything that oppressed its citizenry - yet here was the worst sort of oppression, right in the thick of things. Ironic and sad.

Andar snapped his attention back, forgetting his job in his unpleasant musings. The two men were still talking. He saw a young woman tended to selling the wares while her father (he supposed) handled other business. He then noticed another woman. She was lurking about the shadows, trying to appear nonchalant. Perhaps another thief? Hadn't he seen someone down the alley from whence he came? A flicker of movement behind a building. Maybe it was no coincidence at all. She wasn't near as stealthy as he was. But it was apparent she and him had common interests - the hooded stranger with the limp.

Maybe he had debts and she was there to exact payment. Andar's curoisity piqued, he watched the woman intently as well as his mark. Something was going on here. Perhaps he could take advantage of it....somehow.

[Zoe Collins]

Zoe tailed her mark from a reasonable distance away. She had to make sure that she remained in sight of the target, yet not too far that she would lose her target if anything happened. True enough, she was right as she almost lost sight of the hooded man in furs when a large group of burly-clad mercenaries seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

At first, she thought that her target had hired them to get rid of any pursuers, and she started to get a tad nervous. There was no way she could take on so many of them. Zoe let off a sigh of relief as her worries were for naught, as the group walked past her without an issue.

It was thanks to her foresight to remain close enough, that she regained sight of her mark once more. He was walking down the bazaar lane, to the right, before stopping at a glassware stall. There he met up with another man, a short balding man wearing glass earrings. They shook hands firmly and whispered to each other softly.

There was no way she was going to hear them unless she moved closer. But, if she moved any closer, the chances of her getting spotted would be increasingly high. She did not think it was worth the risk. She needed to get him tonight by hook or by crook.

The two men seemed to be discussing something in heated whispers, as the balding man raised his tone, anger clearly written on his face. Her target kept to a hushed tone however, and this carried on for several chimes. Eventually, the balding guy must had enough, and he ended the discussion in a raised tone, before storming off, leaving the hooded man standing there alone.

It was not before long that her mark moved on as well, heading towards the dimly-lit Slaver's Market. She resumed her tailing him, following him as he made his way into the poorly-lit streets. The Slaver's Markets was not a place she went to often. Zoe could count the number of times she had even entered the area on one hand, and even that was a bit too much for her liking.

It was not that she despised or hated the slaves or anything. The reason was far more complicated than that. Sure, they smelled really ripe, but its was not like anyone in Sunberth smelled like lilac and gooseberries anyway.

The slaves reminded her of her former guardian, Rose and the pitiful state she had been in when Zoe left home. She heard that shortly after she left home, Rose had drunk herself into slavery, unable to pay for mountainous debts the drinks had caused her.

She did not want to be reminded of her past, and so she hated coming this area that drew out all the bad memories that she had struggled to bury. But anyone thought that, that would stop her from carrying out her job, they were dead wrong. Zoe was more than committed to the job. One she intended to follow through to the end.

[Andar]

His mark and the merchant appeared to be having a disagreement of sorts. This clearly evidenced by the funny color of red the bald man's face was turning. The glass merchant, able to bear the verbal confrontation no longer, went back to his merchandise in a huff, waving the hooded man away. Still partially hidden in shadow between a tree and the pole of a stall devoted to cartographies, Andar counted 10 ticks and followed after the mysterious woman who tailed his mark.

The three stalked one another into the stench of Slaver's Market and the low groans of suffering that greeted them there. Great. It figures, he'd lead us here, Andar thought glumly. Taking in the sorry sight of the chained individuals huddled on the garbage-strewn cobbles as he stepped lightly on his feet and kept to the shadows and places obstructed from view along the course of following the woman. Andar saw the slaves were covered in soot and grime. Hollow-cheeked and apathetic of expression. Some so withered with age it appeared they may keel over any minute and die. Others entirely too young for such hardships. One particular young girl with a tangle of curly black hair and a smudged cheek held a filthy-looking stuffed animal to her chest, eyes sodden with tears.

A pang of empathy touched the Kelvic thief's heart to see a child thus. . This was a troubling thing for someone who made their living off of the misfortune of others. Very dangerous. If he allowed himself to feel such things it could impair his work. Still, it was hard not to feel sorry for the slaves - especially the young girl. Even had he been the sort to want justice bad enough to try and free the slaves, it would be awfully tricky. Andar saw knots of mercenaries lazing about Slaver's Market. Some stood idly by tents, others sat in circles nearby the slaves, a few patrolled around the area. There were a lot of wandering eyes in the dimly lit place. To remain out of sight of the mercenaries and his intended mark and the girl would test the limits of his sneakiness.

Andar wondered where his mark was headed. Did Mr. Limpy intend to buy a slave before heading back to his lodgings where he would likely get pulped out of mind and work off his sexual tensions on a slave?. Or did the man have a favor to pay here with one of the slavers, and thought to wisely donate some drugs for better standing with one of the power-hungry slavers. Or was it just sheer coincidence he walked through Slaver's Market in the middle of the night? Riiight.

Andar saw one tall man in vibrant tunic and trousers exit a tent with a scantily clad pleasure slave on either wrist. Those slaves appeared to be in much better condition than the poor souls he had seen chained outside. As luck would have it, their hooded mark approached the tall fellow and greeted him warmly. Andar could hear laughter and cordial conversation as he ducked behind a rather pathetic looking bush on the side of the street. Meager cover at best, with many of its leaves already decorating the road. The Kelvic rogue listened as best he could, wondering briefly where the snooping woman had gone off to.

[Zoe Collins]

Her target in the hood walked deeper into the streets into the Slaver's Market, turning into many dark deserted alleys, not stopping for anything at all. She wondered to herself, what was his interest in being in this district, was he aware that he was being followed, and was leading her on a wild goose chase? She doubted that, she had been careful enough to make sure he was still kept firmly in the dark. Walking past the countless dirty little streets, he had passed countless groups of chained individuals, soot-covered and grimy slaves being paraded and displayed as wares for the buyers to examine and inspect.

Gender was no exception, and male and female were equally displayed, most with a lack of clothing. There were even a different display that had slave children on show as well.

Zoe was sickened. She hated the way these people were treated. The way they were treated, it was like they were no more than buying a commodity, than treating a person. It was despicable to say the least, but she was powerless to do anything, as that was how Sunberth was. One just had to deal with it, and hoped they never ever fell to that state.

Zoe did not want see such sights any longer, but she still had to make sure her mark was kept in sight. Looking to see which direction the hooded man was heading towards, she quickly stepped aside to a dark and deserted alley to her left, and got out her grappling hook.

Spinning it to gain the momentum up and running, she tossed the hook, catching it on one of the iron lamp affixed on the second storey of a building.

Pulling to ensure it was secured, she heaved herself up with much difficulty, trying to use the few ledges she could find as footing. She slipped a couple of times, due to a lack of or proper footing, but she held on, gripping the rope firmly in her hands.

Thankfully, the wall was poorly made, and there were portions where, stones and bricks protruded out from where the unevenness of the brick-laying had been done on the wall. Finally managing to climb up into an open window, she realised that that house was in complete ruin, the walls horribly blackened with soot.

A big fire must have taken place here once. Everything in the room was covered in a layer of soot and dirt, and the wall was charred. She was unsure how steady the floor was, and thought for the second and third time, if she had made the wrong choice to seek a short cut.

To her relief, she made it to the opposite side of the room without incident, and she looked out of the window, her target was only now approaching midway through the street on the opposite side of the building. Although she had spent a considerably long time navigating through the ruins of the old building, she had also made quite a short cut to her mark. She saw the hooded man as he walked towards a group of dimly-lit tents, where there were a several slaves who were for the most part, indecently-dressed.

Her mark met a tall man in a vibrant colorful tunic, with two female slaves hanging on his arms. They greeted each other, before laughing to themselves, and Zoe could feel the anger rising up in her. While her target went into the tent with a female slave in tow, she had no doubts what was going to happen. She would have to stay somewhere close until he was finished. But, not this building. She was sure, he would take a while before he was done.

Climbing out with her hook the same way she climbed in, she made her way, double-timing to get back to where the tents were. Once she was there, she hid in the shadows of a clump of bushes near the abandoned building she was in earlier, unsheathing her kukri, as she patted it in her hand for several ticks before sheathing it once more.

[Andar]

"That's mighty kind of you, Veldrun. You know just how to make an already splendid night, even more marvelous. I make it a point never to let such...generosity go unheeded. Come inside. I'm sure one of my girls will make it worth your while," said the tall well dressed fellow with a contagious laugh.

Andar shifted his position behind the bush, peering toward the tent where audible groaning noises issued, punctuated by the occasional lash of whip and more laughter. The Kelvic thief stifled a yawn and swiveled his gaze about, locating the positions of the mercenaries and searching for the missing mystery woman. Five chimes later, his keen eyes found her not far from his own hiding spot, camouflaged behind a clump of bushes not unlike his own.

Two chimes and an ecstatic howl later, their hooded man appeared outside the tent, belting his breeches. Only he wasn't hooded now. Andar caught a glimpse of the man's face in the flickering torchlight. His countenance had a sickly pallor, a ragged scar ran from his brow, through an eye white and puckered, traversing down to a notch in the man's upper-lip. He had a week's worth of stubble on his jaw and around his mouth and his one good eye roved about warily. He tugged his hood back into place and hurried off, the limp more noticeable than ever.

As he suspected, the female stalker soon followed. Making certain nobody was looking in his direction, he also left the shadows in pursuit. They weaved in and out of streets, alleys, and squares as they made progress eastward. Andar wondered again, what this woman planned to do. He had put a lot of time and effort already into plucking this pigeon. He would be damned if he was going to allow anyone to get between him and his investment.

[Zoe Collins]

The sounds that drifted out from the tent were nauseating. The assortment of groans and moans were a very clear indication of what was happening within the confines of the tent. Zoe was gripping her kukri firmly in a bid to restrain herself from charging right in and attacking him this instance.

That would be a rash decision, and a one full of folly. There were bound to be guards nearby, and more than she would be able to handle as well. It could well possibly be fatal one. No, she must wait, and bide her time.

A howl of pleasure filled the air, nearly shocking her into revealing herself from her hiding spot. Well, that didn't take too long. She had anticipated a much longer wait. Thank goodness that man's stamina was nothing to brag about, and with that, he finished quickly.

The flap of the tent opened, and the man walked out into the cool night air, belting his breeches as he stepped forward. He looked especially sickly, his pale skin glistening white in the moonlight. That must have taken quite a bit out of him. Zoe grinned to herself.

He placed his hood back on, and began to leave the area, walking on to where-ever else he was headed to next. He had diverted so much from his usual route that she had no idea where he would be heading to anymore.

All she could do was follow.

But she was done playing cat and mouse, and the moment an opportunity presented itself to her, she would be taking it. Zoe crept away from the bushes and resumed her tailing of her mark once more. The hunt would be over soon.

She would see to it.

As she followed him through numerous turns, streets and alleys, he finally began to approach the recognisable streets that would lead to the Sunset Quarters, a place where she and the majority of the people in Sunberth lived.

She had to do the deed before he reached the quarters; it was too brightly lit there. All that stood before him and the quarters was a dark and deserted alley, and she had decided to end him there.

As he turned into the alley, she sprang into action. The walls of the alley were low, cramp and close to each other, with hardly any space to escape, if one should need to. Running towards the target as quietly as she could, she took out the rope she had prepared for the job. She had tied and arranged the ropes so that it would function and perform as a lasso. Spinning the lasso with her wrist, she tossed it towards the legs of the hooded man, who was still walking away, unaware of the danger that was about to befall him.

The rope caught him around his feet, tripping him as he fell to ground with a 'THUD' and a surprised groan. She struck while he was still in disorientation, wondering what the petch was going on. Zoe ran towards him, unsheathing her kukri, and confidently inserted the blade into his chest where his heart was, covering his mouth as she did so. His struggles gradually ceased, as the blade penetrated his vital organ, draining the life out of him.

His eyes stared glassily into the night sky, amplified by the moonlight, and she knew that her job was done. He was dead. She glanced around to see if anyone had seen anything, and she was about to assure herself when she saw a figure looking her way from the side of the alley she had entered from.

A witness!

[Andar]

It all happened so fast. Andar didn't even realize what was going on till she was hunched over the squirming man, and her blade caught the moonlight for a tick before it vanished into the dark shape of the victim. Then a muffled groan and a few leg twitches and his mark was forever still. Andar blinked. Who the petch was this woman? Some master assassin sent by one of the gangs? Had she just used a rope to snare the fellow?! Holy petch!!

Despite having lived in the lawless city for over two years, Andar never got used to the sight. The man he had so carefully observed, now lay motionless - dead. He wouldn't be seen limping around anymore. Enjoying anymore pleasure slaves. Or cutting anymore deals with slavers or drug dealers. Dead. The Kelvic rogue was in such shock that he forgot himself, emerging from the haven of shadows as he took one step forward. Then he was spotted.

Shyke! That was his initial reaction to having just been noticed at the scene of a murder - the only witness to that murder. The only person who could avenge the sorry bastard. Wait, why would he even do that? Didn't he have plans to rob the fellow just a chime ago? Andar was nearly as troubled by the inner workings of his mind as he was the perilous situation itself. First musings about freeing slaves and now giving one shyke about a dead man's justice. What the hell was he turning into? An honorable sort of fellow? Andar wasn't quite sure if that thought alone made him shiver or if it was the approaching woman. She moved cautiously, as if afraid to startle him by any sudden movements.

He weighed his chances of getting away from her by fleeing. He wasn't much of a runner. Nor did the thought of her encircling him with rope like a trussed calf heighten his confidence with that particular possibility. He was confident he could lose her around a bend if he could only get a head start. His other self would not be caught, no matter how quick this lady was. Still, when survival mode kicked in, Andar had more tricks up his sleeve than just hauling arse. He could be clever. If the Kelvic had learned nothing else growing up in the slums of Sunberth, he knew one thing - being clever kept you alive.

Having made up his mind, he stepped out into the moonlight. A grin flexed out over his cowled face. Then he began to clap.

"Well done. Well done indeed. I see you have completed the task we set out for you to do. That bit with the rope was more theatrical than necessary - but still impressive," he said in a smooth and confident tone. Andar peered down at the fallen man and tsked. "Poor Veldrun. He just wouldn't listen to reason," Andar said with a shake of hooded head.

Andar hoped his improvisation worked. He had some skill with disguise and altering his mannerisms to seem like other people he had observed. Though as time dictated no costume or makeup for this part, he'd have to do the best with what he had. He simply made educated guesses and prayed to Ovek he was correct in his assumptions.

"Your boss had me tail you to keep an eye on things. To make sure you did the deed. You can never be too careful," said the thief, stroking his chin and regarding the woman. His meticulous gaze went to work, seeking out details that would bestow knowledge of this woman. Who was she?

[Zoe Collins]

As soon as she locked her eyes on the figure, she raced toward him, trying to see who it was. He stood his ground, either rooted to the ground by shock or other similar feelings. The expression on his face seemed to show that he was mortified. The particular expression on the man's visage was but a fleeting one, as he quickly adjusted back to the situation, appearing calm and in control. That was an important trait to have in a city like this. Fear and panic can often lead to one's demise or other assortment of dangers. Having a cool head and taking control of the situation won't.

Zoe had left the dead body where it lay. There was no need to clear it, and since the target was dead, her job was complete, requiring no further actions. Swinging her pack to the front, she removed her lasso, and held it in her hand, a clear indication to the man that she was not afraid to use it if the situation required it. Witnesses were bad. Witnesses that talked were even worst. What the man did however, took her entirely by surprise. He stepped out of the shadows he had been in, into the moonlight, and he started clapping. Zoe wondered if the man was insane.

It was also then that she was afforded a glimpse of the man's appearance, somewhat lit up by the moonlight. He was of average height and build, one that did not suggest that he was a warrior. She could also see that he was bearded. That was all she could tell under the moonlight, the rest of his features still somewhat obscured by the shadows. After the rather strange incident of the man clapping, he then spoke.

"Well done. Well done indeed. I see you have completed the task we set out for you to do. That bit with the rope was more theatrical than necessary - but still impressive, poor Veldrun. He just wouldn't listen to reason." Zoe cocked her head at the sound of the victim's name, and narrowed her eyes at him. So, he knew the mark's name as well. Who was he? Another hired killer? After a couple of chimes, he continued. "Your boss had me tail you to keep an eye on things. To make sure you did the deed. You can never be too careful."

As crafty as the stranger was, he gave himself away with his last sentence. Her boss, the very same one who employed her for this contract, worked alone. He had informed her that there would be chances that other killers would be after her mark as well, so he had only hired her, to keep matters simple and uncomplicated between them.

Keeping her eyes narrowed in suspicion towards him, she asked him, her tone authoritative yet filled with suspicion. "Cut the lies, just who are you exactly?" Zoe had a feeling that he must have been tailing her the whole time. For what purpose? That she would have to find out.