Gravoria Manent

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 19th, 2015, 8:50 pm

x

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.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

by **Alses** on August 23rd, 2015, 6:18 pm

“I make no assumption on your intelligence, or that of your race,” she rejoined quickly, voice just as calm and flat as Brandon's. She gentled it after a moment, keenly aware of her position and of the hadean glow of the bat's aura, even as she tried to subtly exert some control with her voice and her words.

“We didn't mean to cast aspersions,” Alses added, about as close as an apology the bat would get from her. “There is a Kelvic high in the ranks of the Library, for instance,” she continued, moving past the sticking point of the almost-apology as quickly as humanly possible, “Although her form is a great wolf rather than a bat. We know well enough how your race was created, too; stupidity was never part of the mix.” A slight smile curved her lips for an instant.

“And youth is no impediment for success, either. I'm only eight myself, after all; a child, by the standards of most.” Winsome innocence flashed across Alses' face for a moment; it couldn't stay long, the expression ill-suited to the fully-adult form she inhabited.

“So, your employer has bodyguards,” she confirmed, pensive. “We shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. Formidable ones, I'm sure, especially if you have no desire to meet them in open combat. Which leaves...removing them from the equation, in that case. I'm no expert, of course, larceny and criminal skulduggery not being my field-” she wasn't actually trying to be nasty, which was something, at least “-but this city does have an excellent philterer; sleeping solutions are not hard to acquire by any means. Tian J'net might well have something even more suitable; a paralytic, maybe?”

Alses took a deep breath in and exhaled sharply through her nose, the quintessential sound of someone attempting to keep their temper in check. “I thought you were reluctant to kill,” she observed. “We offered the option of an inviolable contract on that basis, but you seem...disappointed? The chance to make him, whoever he is, relinquish his hold over you and know he can't do anything about it? And the opportunity – no, necessity – for what I believe is termed 'payback' into the bargain?”

She paused, thinking some more, her brow furrowed, mouth full of the clinging taste of cotton wool, for some reason, a distraction from her main focus. “Is there some concern over us upholding our end of a potential bargain?” she tried, carefully weaving her way through the conversation, traps and pitfalls looming on every side.

“We are tied up, 'Incognito'-” one could hear the inverted commas drop neatly into place “-and besides, I can see that most everything you've said to us you, at least, believe to be true, no?”

Watching the response there was key, a further confirmation of Brandon's version of events and his predicament. “Given that, it's in my interest to try and deal with this...employer of yours, this stain on the Diamond. If that means cooperating with a thief and a kidnapper, then so be it. Lesser of two evils, I suppose.” She strained a bit against the cords that bound her, demonstrating her point. “Not that I have much of a choice, in any case.”

She closed her eyes. “What is it that you think I can do for you whilst tied up like this?” Alses asked softly. “We can't believe you'd have kidnapped us without a plan of some sort, a way to gain from all of this. Or at least a hope of something.” The last was a little desperate; as much as Brandon was aware of the passing of time, so too was Alses, and that was a mixed bag for her; she had enough nous to appreciate that Tanroa's river flowed both ways.

On the one hand, the longer they tarried and negotiated, the more likely it was that her absence would be reported and Shinya would come looking. On the other hand, though, Brandon surely knew that, and seemed to be operating on some sort of deadline from his 'employer' as well. So the longer they delayed, the higher the chance his knife – the one which kept drawing her gaze with its razored immediacy – would be bathed in thick bronze blood.

Goodbye, Mizahar.

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 25th, 2015, 11:10 am

x

Well, at least she kind of apologized, though anyone could apologize without meaning it. Words did not always tend to mean anything. Nevertheless, the mention of his race's birth did trigger the bat's curiosity. The Kelvic's creation... An old Svefra had told him something about that once... it had something to do with magic, but that was all the bat remembered. It had been -by far- the least interesting event of the evening. “Hm. Though I cannot remember ever hearing anyone remark anything of the sort when they were talking about you and yours,” Brandon commented, more of a dismissal of the statement than anything else. Ah, he wanted to ask about his race, he wanted to know, but alas, time was not his ally right now.

“Oh yeah. And big too. Though they are rather limited in their mental capabilities. I wouldn't be surprised if all they knew was how to crack skulls. Nevertheless,” the bat shrugged, “they are powerful indeed.” Last time had confirmed that... though he had almost managed to take them down... he'd incapacitated one at least.. if he hadn't made any mistakes, then maybe... Alses did have some great suggestions though, sleeping agents, paralytics. The latter was probably more suited for this kind of thing; if it was a philter that could be applied on his blade. “Oh, I am familiar with the Chalice's excellent wares.” The Kelvic agreed wholeheartedly; he still remembered those flammables he'd taken earlier this season. From what he'd heard, the flames had proven to be persistent, and hard to put out.

While he fondly recalled that night though, Alses continued to speak, pointing out the reasons for her prior suggestion, and the emotions she'd read in Bran when she had voiced the idea. “Maybe you should not do what you think would be a good idea, and actually listen to people every once in a while,” the bat retorted, “might even increase your popularity as a politician.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head ever so slightly, defiant. Brandon was someone who enjoyed his payback to be brief. Sure, that contract thingy sounded deviously shrewd, but it wasn't the Kelvic's style. It was true that Brandon was reluctant to kill, but only because he had a code for that sort of thing. Kriegsfelt was a threat, and as such, Brandon wouldn't even feel remotely bad if he killed the man. Even if it was in a fit of rage. “Quite right,” the bat nodded, ceasing to tap the tip of his blade against his mask. “Tied up or not,” Brandon glared, “you are still the Councilor.” He could restrict her movements, but he couldn't restrict her thoughts. Over what she was concocting in her mind, the bat had no control.

For exactly that reason the bat didn't trust her at all. He couldn't be certain she was hiding something, another magic he did not know she possessed. It was possible she'd surprise him, knock him out in one way or another, and make a run for it. If she had Kriegsfelt's name, she might be able to find it, and poof! Gone was his leverage. He wouldn't even cut her loose if he had his deal either, he'd leave that to the Shinya. Brandon would put some distance between him and his current location first. “It would be indeed, though I would also be profitable to deal with me too, wouldn't it?” He gave a wry smile. Surely she wouldn't let a chance like this pass, which meant Lhavit was no longer safe for him. Well, leaving the city had been on his mind for a while, he needed to go to a place where he could let the recent events fade away.

“What is it you think I can do for you whilst tied up like this?” Alses queried, and she had a point. Brandon did have a plan, but he wasn't quite willing to go that far anymore. He'd been planning to say he'd go turn himself in, if Alses'd deal with Kriegsfelt -if the bat could get a guarantee he wouldn't be executed, that is. After all, his crimes were many, and pretty grave too. But it was too risky. Alses might not be willing to keep her end of the bargain... The bat sighed, pondering on new solutions, sifting through what had been said during their time here. “Alright then,” he spoke finally, stabbing his dagger into the wood of the table, and straightening up. “My terms are as follows;” a deep breath was taken, and he shifted his position slightly. “I would be willing to leave the city -and let you to walk away alive of course- in return for a couple things.” Brandon steepled his fingers, tapping them lightly against each other. “First, I'd want a guarantee the Shinya will not be informed of anything you cannot have seen. Meaning; my race, my true nature, and whatever else you can see with your magic. Not now, not ever.” The thief paused for a moment, letting it sink in. “Second, the details of this conversation will be kept secret as well. And I mean everything. For all I care I only wanted to discuss politics with you.” Another pause, his black orbs staring into Alses' eyes.

“Third. If some fat merchant is found dead today, I will not have anything to do with it. I will not leave my signature. I was never there. Understood?” Yes, Brandon had finally made up his mind. He'd go deal with Kriegsfelt himself. There was one way he could get close enough without the merchant getting suspicious. Ironically, that opportunity only existed today. When he went to report. Kriegsfelt would want to know of his 'success', no doubt about it. And he couldn't trust Alses with that, the Shinya might screw up, or she would. Or Kriegsfelt would catch wind of it because something was amiss. If the bat wanted to stop the merchant from getting suspicious, he'd have to report to him too. He could as well end this whole situation then too. The only problem now was Alses, hence this deal he was trying to make. He locked his gaze with hers, as if to tempt her to try and negotiate.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

by **Alses** on October 4th, 2015, 10:59 am

The rejoinder, almost instant, screamed up her throat, a blistering counter-swipe about the pollution of the carefully-crafted Kelvics as they rutted their little lives away with whatever and whoever would have them, spreading and diluting the magic with whatever mundane filth came their way – literally - but she caught it just in time. “It doesn’t need saying, when it comes to my kind,” Alses contented herself with, instead.

“You asked for my suggestions, ‘Incognito’,” she said, with a side-order of ice shivering off the words. “For what we thought would be a good way out of your predicament, and we provided. Besides…popularity? We never wanted to be popular.” A wry smile curved her lips. “If we had, we’d have given up politics long ago and gone back to being a simple sorceress of an Ethaefal. You know how Lhavit in general treats its Ethaefal, I’m sure.”

“But! I’m a politician, not a demagogue or a rabble-rouser; I took an oath to serve the city; that’s what a politician is, at bottom: servant of the city, attendant to its needs; everything else is just…froth, really.” Her smile was cold and knife-like, her eyes distant.

“That means making the hard decisions, when they need to be made, because in the fire of those choices the city is refined, made stronger. Better. Some choices are popular and the path easily taken, others…not so much. I face both without fear or favour because that’s what I swore to do, and without my word what am I?” Alses paused, briefly, and then a scowl flitted over her face. “Don’t answer that; we’ve no desire to hear what you think of me.”

She listened, carefully, to the bat’s deal and his terms, turning them over and over in her head. Alses wasn’t really bargaining from a position of much strength, but still…there needed to be consideration; she couldn’t just give in straight away.

“I can’t agree to all of your terms,” she said quietly, after a few moments. “If we are asked by Syna as to what transpired we could no more lie to Her than we could stop our heart and our lungs. It’s an Ethaefal trait; I don’t expect you to understand. It is vanishingly unlikely that She would trouble Herself with this matter, but. We felt I should mention it nonetheless. The rest…” Alses pondered for a moment.

“I have no…insurmountable issue…with not informing the Shinya of what I have seen and felt from you over the course of this meeting. They’ve proven themselves about as useful as a chocolate teapot, in any case,” she added, a dark growl rolling and deepening in her voice at that. “And if a fat merchant should pass away, most unfortunately, I shall be quite able to shrug and wonder what exactly could have happened to him.” Another shrug, as best she could in the restraints that were still annoyingly tight.

“To be honest, we doubt I would even be informed, particularly if your irritating calling cards are absent. Commercial activity and trading enterprise is rather beyond my ambit, except in a few specialised cases.” That, in point of fact, could be useful; perhaps, with a bit of finesse, she could parley this merchant into the master thief that was Incognito, and recoup some form of…compensation…from his estate.

A possibility to think more on, down the line.

“So. If you can accept the vanishingly small risk that Syna might take an interest in this sordid little affair, then we have an accord. You can untie me, deal with your erstwhile employer, and then leave Lhavit and never come back. I won’t stop you, or throw you to the Shinya.”

Alses thought, briefly, about making a few threats, and then decided against it. For one, they would probably come off as slightly ridiculous, given that she was still lashed tightly to a chair, and two, Brandon still had the knife – even if it was in the desk - and evidently the expertise to use it.

Better not to make threats, except in the privacy of her own head, then, and derive immense potential satisfaction from the prospect of delivering them upon him should he prove foolish enough to return to the city.

After all, Alses had the taste of him well and truly on her tongue, the coruscant impression he made on the world was locked into her memory, instantly recollectible and instantly recognizable. In some ways, aurists were like bloodhounds, only far harder to confuse and misdirect.

by **Brandon Blackwing** on October 5th, 2015, 3:26 pm

x

Alses' remark of her own kind might have gone unnoticed, but now Brandon had been interacting with the Eth, he knew well enough it was a well concealed insult. He crossed his arms with a snort, debating whether he'd retaliate or not. In the end he decided not to, as much as he'd like to engage further in this skirmish of wit. In all honesty, there was a lot of enjoyment to be had from this interaction. Though he supposed he was alone in feeling that way. Not that it mattered.

He sighed then, waving a hand in semi-apology. It was indeed true that he'd been a little bit whimsical his whole life, but tonight was worse than ever. First he'd asked for suggestions, then he didn't want to hear them... Well, he hadn't been exactly prepared either. Nor had he thought this through. In fact, he could have thought of his solution at home, in front of a warm fire, relaxed and at ease. Not having to worry about Shinya barging in. But, that was not how Brandon dealt with these kinds of things. He went with the flow, hoping the problem would erase itself, and if that didn't work he still went with the flow. Really, the machinations of his own mind were alien and strange to him at times.

“Yes, I am aware. My mind hasn't been in peak condition the past few days. I believe you may have noticed I have been quite distressed. One moment something will do, the other it won't.” He shrugged then. “But quite frankly, I hadn't anticipated I'd find your suggestions so … inadequate. Then again, I am me, and you are you.” Another shrug and then he listened to the Councilor ramble about her position, her oaths, and her disinterest in popularity. It was fascinating really, a Councillor who was not interested in the public opinion of her. Brandon smiled under his mask, a woman like that... he could respect. Probably more than Alses might realize. Or wanted to realize.

Brandon said nothing though, finding it rather entertaining to just sit back and listen to the ramble of the Councillor Radiant, to her speech. She was very much a politician; her words were delivered with a certain amount of flourish and elegance that made listening to her talk … engaging in some way or another. A rhetorician indeed. The temptation to applaud when she ceased her rhetoric was there, presenting itself strongly, but the bat resisted, settling with a grin and silence instead.

What was more pleasing was that she did seem to agree with his terms, with a small example, something Brandon hadn't even considered. The gods? The chances of them taking an interest in this matter were rather low. But even if it should happen, Brandon did not see any harm in allowing this. “Sure.” For a moment he thought of adding that Zintila was excluded of this clause, but it wouldn't make any difference; if Syna knew, Leth would probably be informed too -if the Goddess felt it was necessary. Actually, the Sun Goddess could inform just whoever she pleased, including Zintila. Denying Alses the right to speak to the Alvina ruling the city would not have any result whatsoever.

“Don't discredit the Shinya,” Brandon spoke, amused at the Ethaefal's disappointment in the guards. “They really are a capable bunch. Capable of apprehending the common criminal without too much problems.” His face beneath the mask split open into a grin. “However, I am not your common criminal. As a matter of fact, I am far more competent, believe it or not.” Well, she couldn't deny it, not now she found herself in a situation that proved his very words.

It seemed they had reached something of a deal, though in no way had it been the kind that Brandon had had in mind originally. This agreement of silence was merely something to save his own skin. Something so the Shinya wouldn't find out about his race, and whatever it was Alses could see with her magic. Plus, it also guaranteed no-one would find out about him having been controlled like some puppet. And of course, the murder of Kriegsfelt would not be added to his list of crimes, which was good. He was a thief, not an assassin after all. With a roll of his shoulders he got up, pulled his dagger out of the wood of the table and started walking towards the bound Ethaefal, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Untie you?” How naive. “Patience. Your chocolate tea-set will save me the trouble. Don't worry, they'll find you. Eventually.” There was a chuckle, and then he got serious once more. “I kid of course. The Shinya aren't stupid. They'll be here soon enough. You'll have to sit tight a little longer. Also, I've left a little gift at your mansion. I think you'll like it.” He paused for a moment, listening, pondering. Both of them knew that he'd be back one day, if only for him to grab his stuff. He'd already decided to traverse the unforgiving on his own, carried by his wings. Sadly that meant leaving everything behind. But he'd be back to get it. He wondered if it needed mentioning. Probably not. He was certain Alses was very much aware; she'd been reading him too. She knew his thirst for excitement, no doubt about it, she knew that nothing could provide so much thrill like infiltrating a city which no longer welcomed him. A city that would have him dead if he was found out. He grinned.

“Well then, Councillor. It seems this is goodbye-” and with that he slammed the pommel of his dagger into the side of her skull, hard enough to knock her unconscious, but not so he'd actually wound her. Or so he hoped. A headache would be inescapable though... But, it was necessary; he couldn't have her alarm everyone while he was going about his business after all. Dawnrest was still in effect, so Brandon had still some time. “-For now.” He sheathed his weapon quickly, opened the door ever so slightly, checking for people outside that might notice him. Neither his eyes nor his ears found anyone, and the bat ventured outside, closing the door softly behind him, and headed to Kriegsfelt's mansion. One last thing to handle, and then he'd be free once more.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

by **Brandon Blackwing** on November 15th, 2015, 6:37 pm

x

OOCWe’ll be switching things up a little bit. Posting order and the IC time may vary

Bran’s epilogue Part I – Breaking the chains

Kriegsfelt’s mansion loomed up from the twilight, the multiple shards of Skyglass illuminating part of the walls and the area around it with regular intervals. Dawnrest was still in effect; for now at least, but there wasn’t much of it left. It would be in his best interest to hurry up; something he’d been doing ever since he’d left the Councillor by herself in that shack. Fortunately though, the whole negotiation process –even though it resulted in nothing but more future problems, no doubts there- hadn’t taken as long as the bat had believed it would. Despite that he’d still been running through the Lhavitian streets, wanting to waste as little time as he possibly could.

Time he would need to erase any signs of his presence when he left the manor, and to get back home safely. For now though all he had to worry about was getting inside without people seeing him; that would help a whole lot to prove he had nothing to do with this case. Quickly though carefully he checked his surroundings, then dashed out of his hiding place among the shadows and towards the wall. The structure was taller than Brandon stood, but that mattered not; he launched his body upwards, hands grabbing the top of the wall and arms pulling him up mid-jump, bringing him on top of the obstacle in less than a tick. He sat in a crouch for a moment, scanning the terrain behind the wall, then dropped down silently, rolling to the side upon landing, hiding behind a large potted plant.

One of Kriegsfelt’s Akalak guards patrolled the area, turning around the corner and strolling down the path, passing Brandon, then suddenly stopping and sending glances in all directions. The thief quickly altered his position a little bit so he stayed out of sight. The Alkalak turned around and resumed his patrol, allowing for Brandon to slip closer to the building behind his back. It took a while, as the garden was ridiculously large, resembling a small park, complete with paths, statues, small pavilions, small fountains, flowerfields, and the occasional potted plant. Despite the considerable time it took for Bran to reach the actual mansion, they couldn’t have made things easier for the thief, as there were many, many hiding places available Brandon could exploit.

There was a skyglass staircase leading up to a terrace and the glass doors that sealed off the inside from the outside, and above that, a balcony. Brandon flew up the steps and clambered onto one of the artistically decorated pillars supporting the upper terrace, finding more than enough hand- and footholds on the etchings. The balustrade formed no barrier whatsoever, and soon Brandon was on the balcony, staring down at the Akalak guard having completed one round around the property. To be safe rather than sorry, the bat did hide in a crouch, counting on the balustrade to keep him out of sight; people usually didn’t look up, but you never knew.

When the guard had once more moved on to another side of the mansion, Brandon strode to the glass door that was present on this terrace as well, lockpick and tension wrench fished out of one of his pouches with a practiced motion. He inserted them in the lock, and prodded with the pick for a little bit, but to no avail; there was something already occupying the space inside –a key, most likely- and it blocked the pins. Brandon sighed, and swapped his most favorite tools for the glass cutter, placing the cone on the glass near the knob, though diagonally above it so he’d be able to grab the key with ease. Brandon turned the handle then, feeling the diamond knife cutting a perfect circle out of the glass rather than hearing it; the cutter was absolutely silent. It took no time at all, and then the bat removed the cone and the circular piece of glass with it; the adhesive doing its job excellently.

Both were quietly and carefully placed on the floor, and the thief stuck his arm through the hole, fingers creeping towards the lock, grabbing the key and turning it as silently as possible. He opened the door then, stepping through it after confirming the safety of doing so. Once the door was closed behind him, he pulled the glass off of the cone of his glass cutter, and placed it back in the door, sealing the hole. The glass cutter disappeared back into the pouch it had come from, and Brandon assumed his sneaking pose, bending his knees just a tad bit so he could control his movements better, then started walking quietly through the halls.

Navigating through Solomon Kriegsfelt’s mansion was proving difficult, not only due to its sheer size, but also because the bat only knew the location of two rooms, and finding them proved harder than expected. The other half of the Akalak brothers patrolled the inside of the merchant’s residence, and his presence was not making things easier. The best way to avoid the man’s gaze was following him through the hallways until he’d get to the place Bran wanted to reach, but that too would take a while, mostly because the guard seemed to take his duty seriously. Brandon had to be extremely careful in order not to be detected, and because of that he kept a comfortable distance between the two of them, along with sneaking as quietly as he could.

From time to time the guardsman stopped in his tracks to scan the vicinity, and Brandon made efforts to stay out of the circle of light the Akalak’s lantern projected. Even if he hid behind a pillar or so, his shadow could still betray him. His caution payed off in the end, when Brandon found himself in the upper main hall, a location from where he would be able to find Kriegsfelt’s room without a problem. The Kelvic tested his patience a little longer, waiting for the Akalak to leave the immediate area before he made his way to the merchant’s chambers. Testing the knob carefully told the bat the door was locked, and a quick prod with a lockpick confirmed the key was in the lock. The thief had expected as much from the start; Kriegsfelt wasn’t going to let anyone near him without his own permission. Hence why this was the only time Brandon could kill him; if he hadn’t been summoned by the vendor, the man would send his guards to keep the Kelvic away from him. They only met on Kriegsfelt’s terms, but not tonight.

Brandon rapped his knuckles on the wood a couple times, careful not to be too loud. Only Kriegsfelt was allowed to know of his presence, for the rest of the mansion’s residents, there never had been anyone else in here this night. A chair scraped over the floor, and footsteps made their way over to the door –the stripe of light shining from under the door had indeed meant the merchant was awake, good. The portal opened to a crack after the lock had clicked once, and Kriegsfelt’s tired face appeared –beady eyes darting over the mask Bran was wearing- then it vanished and the door opened fully. The thief slipped through, Kriegsfelt closed the door behind him and shuffled to the burning hearth. He was dressed in his night robes, but now the merchant looked oddly awake and excited.

“Ah, Brandon!” the man spoke heartily, “I was expecting you.” He frowned then, the wrinkles in his pig-like face appearing deeper than usual. “Though you could just have rung the bell instead of ... sneaking in… Dragha would have escorted you here immediately.” It was obvious the merchant greatly disapproved of the bat’s way of entry, but the Kelvic couldn’t care less. “I didn’t want to wake your other personnel, I’d rather not leave a trace.” That was the truth, although it was not so Kriegsfelt wouldn’t be connected to “the murder of the Councillor Radiant”. “Still, you could have asked Bragha to let you in then. He has a key, and he is patrolling outside. You wouldn’t have woken anyone that way.” Brandon shrugged, taking off his mask and warming himself by the fire. Kriegsfelt plopped down on his king-sized four-poster.

“Anyway,” the man clapped his hands excitedly, “how did things go?” Brandon didn’t turn away from the hearth, keeping his onyx gaze in the ever-changing flames. “Not everything went as planned. There were some … complications, though nothing I couldn’t deal with.”
“Ah, good to hear,” he heard the merchant speak, no trace of worry in his voice. “So Alses is dead then.” It wasn’t even a question, it was a statement. Kriegsfelt didn’t even consider another outcome. The Kelvic turned his back on the flames, sliding the mask of Incognito back on his face. “Not quite.” He took a step in the direction of the bed. “Not quite?! What do you mean?” Sweat was starting to pearl off of the man’s face, under the layers upon layers of fat the man’s muscles tensed. “You didn’t kill her? That’s not what I ordered!” he was hissing now, his voice kept low so the employees working at his residence wouldn’t hear the ruckus and wouldn’t come to know anything they did not need to. “Ah, I see. You broke her mind, didn’t you? With your torture?” Brandon took another step closer, shaking his head. More sweat formed on the fat merchant’s brow, his hand started creeping slowly –with the intention of being inconspicuously, no doubt- towards his night table and more specifically the drawer embedded in the piece of furniture.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded to know, as Brandon took yet another step in his direction, the merchant’s voice clinging to an authoritarian tone, though panic was starting to slip in, giving it a squeaky sound. The Kelvic purposefully took another step closer, bent on letting the crook of a vendor experience some terror before his death.

“Let’s just say I’m going to-”

His voice was absolutely serious, but underneath the mask, the thief grinned wider than he had ever since Kriegsfelt had appeared last Summer.

“-break my chains.”

x

credit goes to Euthisa

by **Brandon Blackwing** on November 30th, 2015, 4:30 pm

x

Bran's epilogue part II - Unbound

Fear was apparent on the fat man's face, the realization of what was happening kicking in. His hand quickly, though clumsily opened the drawer, grabbing a dagger that had been hidden within. Brandon too had started to move however, closing the space between them in the blink of an eye, not even fazed by the blade that was shakily aimed at his person. He'd expected something of the sort after all, and he merely had to slam his forearm into the merchant's wrist to send the dagger flying. It fell onto the soft carpet covering every inch of Kriegsfelt's bedroom floor, muffling the clatter that would have otherwise occurred.

Good. He didn't want to cause a ruckus.

Solomon Kriegsfelt was about to scream in the meantime, having opened his mouth and taken a deep uneven breath in when he'd pointed his weapon at the incoming Brandon. Well, he couldn't have that; silence was important here. Thus from the moment the bat's left arm had launched the dagger out of Kriegsfelt's hand, his other had already been rushing forward, bent on silencing the merchant before he could even start screaming. It was a nasty throat strike he delivered, one filled to the brim with raging hatred, a little less controlled than the Kelvic would have liked. Emotions were a nuisance in a fight, clouding judgment and nibbling at control. It mattered not though, the abundance of chins and other fat served as a buffer, reducing the power of the hit. While it now didn't kill the man, nor damaged his trachea, it did temporarily cut off his ability to breathe. The planned yell for help came out as a quiet gurgle, and the bat grinned under his mask.

“Like I'd let you scream, fool,” he hissed, grabbing the collar of the merchant's nightgown as he staggered backwards. “Please,” Kriegsfelt managed to force out of his throat, “whatever she's paying you, I'll double it. So, please don-”
“Shut your mouth,” was the response, no, the command, and one of Brandon's hands found his throat; pressuring it. Once again Kriegsfelt's supply of air was cut off, and once again he could only wheeze and grunt. “You have no idea how long I've contemplated this. How long I've been killing you in my mind. Things did not exactly turn out like I had planned and hoped, yes, but I'm not too sad about it. I might have created extra problems for myself tonight, but at least one of my older ones will be taken care of. Your death tonight is inevitable, Solomon Kriegsfelt!”

The merchant struggled, but Brandon's grip did not lessen, it only grew tighter. “You're … not getting... away... with this!” the vendor spat, managing to form words through Brandon's vice grip. “We'll see about that.” A swift hit on the side of Kriegsfelt's head ended the man's attempts to break free, he went limp. Brandon took a content breath in, catching the collapsing merchant and placed him gently on the floor. Ah, he really needed that; even though it was just a temple strike and not a real hit, it did feel really good. Sadly, that was just about all the satisfaction he'd get, no more punches or kicks were allowed for this to work.

During the process of traversing Lhavit and getting to the mansion, Brandon had thought about how to make just about anyone believe he didn't have anything to do with it. A simple solution really; make it look as if no-one else was involved. Make it look like a suicide.

Quickly Brandon scanned the room, pleased to find that the large window on the other side of the chamber doubled as a door, leading to a small balcony. He removed the key of the door, placed it on a low table, and walked over to the door he'd come through when entering. The portal was locked with a simple twist of the key. Good. Next, the thief hoisted the heavy merchant onto the bed in such a way his legs still dangled over the edge. The fallen dagger was retrieved, and the bat rolled up the sleeves of the unconscious man's nightgown while mentally preparing himself.

A sigh escaped the masked thief as he placed the tip of the dagger near the elbow on the merchant's forearm. Momentarily there was the question if this was worth it, if he should go through with this, but there was no way back anymore. Besides, now it was Kriegsfelt or him and Enggy. Holding that thought, Brandon cut through the skin, dagger traveling all the way to the wrist, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Crimson flowed out immediately in large amounts, and the bat quickly let go of the arm to avoid covering his gloves and leather suit with blood. The process was repeated for the other arm, and before long the bat stood before the glass door, looking back at the merchant as the man's blood left his body. “I've even given you mercy you did not deserve,” the Kelvic muttered staring at the stained sheets and the bloodied weapon laying next to Kriegsfelt's body. The man wouldn't become conscious ever again; the blood loss would keep him adrift in the realm of dreamless sleep until he passed on. A merciful death indeed.

Then Brandon turned around and conjured up his lockpicking tools. In no time at all he'd bypassed the lock, opening the door to the balcony and stepping into the fresh air. He closed the door behind him, kneeling once more to lock the thing. That too did not take long, only part of a chime he fiddled with the system, moving pins and turning the cylinder, undoing his earlier work. There, it was done. A closed room murder; both keys to the chamber would be found inside, and the occupant appeared to have slit his own wrists. A suicide was the only logical conclusion, after all, no-one had entered or left the residence. Well, no-one that had been seen or heard, that is. The only thing Brandon had left to do was escape, something which was no problem at all.

Bragha passed by underneath him, never noticing the shadow on the dark balcony, and once the guardsman was gone, Brandon quickly clambered to the side and then down, using ledges of windows as well as chiseled decorations and ornaments to support him. He raced to the wall as soon as his feet touched the ground, unseen and unheard, sprinting from shadow to shadow until he found himself right in front of the obstacle. This time he scaled it slowly instead of just vaulting on top of it, peeking over the edge to check the surroundings first. Then he hoisted himself on top and over the wall, quickly disappearing into the darkness of an alley.

A genuine smile born from happiness adorned his masked face, despite the act -or perhaps just because of it- he'd just committed. For the first time in a long while Brandon was completely free.

Unbound.

Note :

x

credit goes to Euthisa

by **Elysium** on March 8th, 2016, 4:36 am

Alses

XP:
Rhetoric +2
Negotiation +2
Subterfuge +1
Investigation +1

Lore:
Rhetoric: Turning the Tables
How to Negotiate Under Duress
Investigation: Behavioral Analysis
Subterfuge: Stalling for Time

★

Brandon Blackwing

XP:
Weapon: Dagger +3
Interrogation +2
Investigation +1
Intimidation +1
Rhetoric +1

Lore:
How to Interrogate a Hostage
Intimidation: Throwing a Dagger
Investigation: Assembling the Facts
Rhetoric: Taking Control of the Conversation

Notes: So, I have a lot to say about this. I feel that the premise had a lot of potential and I feel that both parties performed admirably in thread, but the plot here absolutely fell flat. Not much of this makes sense, unfortunately. Why kidnap Alses at all, when Brandon could have simply talked to her? If he were willing to just take a chance on killing his employer, why didn't he just do that on the first place? There doesn't seem to be any reason for it, nor any challenge at all in killing him.

Further, the Zintia is the busiest peak in Lhavit. Out of curiosity, why on earth would you put your Hideaway Shack™ there of all places and claim it isn't heavily trafficked? It's the central peak.

Further, you sure seem to always be miraculously one step ahead of the Shinya all the time Brandon... I would be careful in the future if I were you. Even at Master level, you are fallible.

Anyway, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns feel free to send me a message.

and so, the journey continues...

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