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Alses kept going with her auristic investigation, scrutinizing him with her magic. Once more she proved she was extremely good at her field of specialization. It probably was a neat tool for politics, that magic. Brandon had of course no real knowledge of what exactly she could do with it, but he could make some guesses. Emotions could be read; he'd experienced that once before already. What else? Intentions, probably. Well, emotions was already a broad subject, if one could read emotions, even the slightest, they could very well be reading your mind. The Councilor squinted, continuing to speak. Yes, Kriegsfelt had a very special person held hostage indeed; Brandon's sister.
“You will only get a name when I get my deal,” Brandon almost hissed through his mask. Aurists, they could see too much. It didn't seem like she'd stop either; and Bran had no way of making sure she stopped. He could use threats of course, but that would probably add extra hurdles to the negotiations. “And you're quite right. That's a no indeed. If I knew for sure -and that means confirming it with my own eyes- she was held somewhere, I would have freed her already. Either that instant or at a later time.” The bat sighed deeply. “The problem is, dear Councilor, that I have no way of confirming whether my employer is just bluffing or if he really did put assassins on my sister's tail.” Another sigh.
“I have tried, believe me. Not even my contact at the Cosmos Center could find out,” the Kelvic scowled, knowing Sal had done his best. Still though, his best hadn't been enough. True, those things were not that easy to find out, but Sal hadn't even found a single clue. Businesses, yes, among other things. But nothing Brandon had truly wanted to know. “Of course, I am very well aware he could just be fooling me. Then again, he did know exactly how she looked, and she'd left the city before he even arrived. Or came back. Whatever.” Brandon's scowl grew deeper. The same argument he'd so often held in his mind, now spoken out loud.
Bah, the more he thought about it, the deeper he seemed to sink into the mud of the dilemma. The petcher had handled this too well, this only confirmed his experience with this sort of thing. Dimitri had had his wife and daughter used as a hostage to keep him in line, the one time he'd refused to follow orders, his wife had been killed. To manipulate Brandon, Kriegsfelt had only one person, but that meant nothing. There were worse things than death. No, Kriegsfelt wouldn't kill Enggy. He'd have her tortured, mutilated. What would the repercussions be for defying him be? An ear sent by pigeon? A hand perhaps? Finger by finger? No, Brandon didn't even dare to move when he'd just believed Enggy might be killed. Mutilation was a whole lot worse.
Then, the Councilor Radiant piped up, speaking of a way out. Brandon perked up, face shifting form it's slightly downward angle to locking eyes with her. A contract of sorts, but the details were... disappointing. If he needed to make Kriegsfelt aware of the implications of the contract, then he obviously would never sign it. Of course, there were ways around that... torture perhaps. But it seemed too much work. It would mean another kidnapping, and this time Alses would come for him. Besides, she probably couldn't make a contract here. There was no paper, no ink. No writing utensils. And Brandon wasn't planning on leaving her alone when he still needed her. Not to mention it would probably take some time. No. That was a rather flimsy try; to be honest, Brandon was disappointed. The other option was the one the Kelvic had contemplated for seasons; killing Kriegsfelt.
“Do you think I'm stupid, Alses?” the bat queried, voice composed, but his mind was hostile at best. “I might be Kelvic,” the Ethaefal had figured that out already anyway, no point in not telling her, “but I can assure you we are -and myself in particular- a whole lot more intelligent than you might imagine. We age quickly, we grow quickly. I learned to speak two languages in less than two seasons. I have never seen any other humanoids of the same age perform an equal feat. They can't even walk.” His eyes shot daggers. “My point being, you'd do best not to underestimate me. Of course I have thought of killing him! Every time I see his ugly mug I would like nothing more than tear his gut to shreds!” Brandon let some air escape from his nose, as if it were steam, then he recomposed himself. “The problem is he has bodyguards. I try anything funny, and guess what? Whether I fail or succeed in killing him, they'll still get me, kill me, and probably kill off my sister while they're at it. And if I fail, things will only become worse.” The bat wanted to rub his face, but his mask made it impossible.
Still, killing would perhaps be the best solution. The problem was when. Kriegsfelt usually didn't let his guard down. Even at home, Dragha and Bragha -his guards- were only a room away. There simply was no chance for him to kill Kriegsfelt. He sighed once more; apparently this was a whole waste of time after all. Now what? Make a proposal of his own? Give Alses one last chance? Threaten her? Make her think harder? Nah, she'd had time enough, she probably wouldn't come up with anything new. Then again, it was not impossible for her to have a moment of brilliance still. He should just think, and let her do the same. If she still couldn't come up with anything, he'd set the terms of an agreement. One he wouldn't like, but it would be better than having Kriegsfelt order him around. Yes, he'd think carefully about his next step for a bit. Idly, he crossed his legs, and conjured up a dagger from under his cloak, which he tapped against his mask as he pondered.
“You will only get a name when I get my deal,” Brandon almost hissed through his mask. Aurists, they could see too much. It didn't seem like she'd stop either; and Bran had no way of making sure she stopped. He could use threats of course, but that would probably add extra hurdles to the negotiations. “And you're quite right. That's a no indeed. If I knew for sure -and that means confirming it with my own eyes- she was held somewhere, I would have freed her already. Either that instant or at a later time.” The bat sighed deeply. “The problem is, dear Councilor, that I have no way of confirming whether my employer is just bluffing or if he really did put assassins on my sister's tail.” Another sigh.
“I have tried, believe me. Not even my contact at the Cosmos Center could find out,” the Kelvic scowled, knowing Sal had done his best. Still though, his best hadn't been enough. True, those things were not that easy to find out, but Sal hadn't even found a single clue. Businesses, yes, among other things. But nothing Brandon had truly wanted to know. “Of course, I am very well aware he could just be fooling me. Then again, he did know exactly how she looked, and she'd left the city before he even arrived. Or came back. Whatever.” Brandon's scowl grew deeper. The same argument he'd so often held in his mind, now spoken out loud.
Bah, the more he thought about it, the deeper he seemed to sink into the mud of the dilemma. The petcher had handled this too well, this only confirmed his experience with this sort of thing. Dimitri had had his wife and daughter used as a hostage to keep him in line, the one time he'd refused to follow orders, his wife had been killed. To manipulate Brandon, Kriegsfelt had only one person, but that meant nothing. There were worse things than death. No, Kriegsfelt wouldn't kill Enggy. He'd have her tortured, mutilated. What would the repercussions be for defying him be? An ear sent by pigeon? A hand perhaps? Finger by finger? No, Brandon didn't even dare to move when he'd just believed Enggy might be killed. Mutilation was a whole lot worse.
Then, the Councilor Radiant piped up, speaking of a way out. Brandon perked up, face shifting form it's slightly downward angle to locking eyes with her. A contract of sorts, but the details were... disappointing. If he needed to make Kriegsfelt aware of the implications of the contract, then he obviously would never sign it. Of course, there were ways around that... torture perhaps. But it seemed too much work. It would mean another kidnapping, and this time Alses would come for him. Besides, she probably couldn't make a contract here. There was no paper, no ink. No writing utensils. And Brandon wasn't planning on leaving her alone when he still needed her. Not to mention it would probably take some time. No. That was a rather flimsy try; to be honest, Brandon was disappointed. The other option was the one the Kelvic had contemplated for seasons; killing Kriegsfelt.
“Do you think I'm stupid, Alses?” the bat queried, voice composed, but his mind was hostile at best. “I might be Kelvic,” the Ethaefal had figured that out already anyway, no point in not telling her, “but I can assure you we are -and myself in particular- a whole lot more intelligent than you might imagine. We age quickly, we grow quickly. I learned to speak two languages in less than two seasons. I have never seen any other humanoids of the same age perform an equal feat. They can't even walk.” His eyes shot daggers. “My point being, you'd do best not to underestimate me. Of course I have thought of killing him! Every time I see his ugly mug I would like nothing more than tear his gut to shreds!” Brandon let some air escape from his nose, as if it were steam, then he recomposed himself. “The problem is he has bodyguards. I try anything funny, and guess what? Whether I fail or succeed in killing him, they'll still get me, kill me, and probably kill off my sister while they're at it. And if I fail, things will only become worse.” The bat wanted to rub his face, but his mask made it impossible.
Still, killing would perhaps be the best solution. The problem was when. Kriegsfelt usually didn't let his guard down. Even at home, Dragha and Bragha -his guards- were only a room away. There simply was no chance for him to kill Kriegsfelt. He sighed once more; apparently this was a whole waste of time after all. Now what? Make a proposal of his own? Give Alses one last chance? Threaten her? Make her think harder? Nah, she'd had time enough, she probably wouldn't come up with anything new. Then again, it was not impossible for her to have a moment of brilliance still. He should just think, and let her do the same. If she still couldn't come up with anything, he'd set the terms of an agreement. One he wouldn't like, but it would be better than having Kriegsfelt order him around. Yes, he'd think carefully about his next step for a bit. Idly, he crossed his legs, and conjured up a dagger from under his cloak, which he tapped against his mask as he pondered.
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credit goes to Euthisa