License To Kill (Ysoria)

[Éamonn Goronwy]

Swiftness and stealth… those were two of Éamonn’s many positive and borderline excellent character traits in his own eyes. Who could say from himself that he had just climbed a 65 feet wall up a few stories under the eyes of several guards without a rope? Only neophytes needed ropes or even rope ladders! In every stone wall there were so many slots and scrapes apt feet and hands could work their way up just fine. That it had taken him several years of training and many failures to be where he was now, Éamonn often liked to overlook. This was in the past, now was now, and fact was that he was about to complete another mission succesfully.

This noble, Sir Edmund Touper was his name if Éamonn remembered correctly, lying there snoring on his four poster bed apparently was a thorn in another’s side and needed to breathe his last breath tonight. Éamonn was not interested in details, he found the neverending turf wars between nobles or nobles and kings so very boring. As long as it provided him with enough jobs to live on however he would not complain. And he was too much of a professional to do this openly anyway, even when drunk. Badmouthing was bad for business, but no one could shun or kill him for his very own thoughts.
Now, this would be easy. He wouldn’t even need his special abilities. Though of course.. he could use them to make the matter slightly more interesting… a flying dagger, hovering in the air above his fleshy throat… a nice vision for sure, but the impact caused by a hand leading the dagger was still better than magic. Or at least Éamonn told himself so. The truth maybe was he liked to actually be the acting force, not only the one just directing. Using his object moving spells was good when casting the throwing stars at a man outside, but not when it came to throat cutting.

Without making a sound on the floor that was thick with carpets against the cold, Éamonn tread closer to the bed, now hovering over the sleeping noble, drawing his dagger. His face was still half hidden by a black velvet mask and the hood of of his black cloak, and he was even wearing gloves of the same color. Anything could happen and no one mustn’t see his true face!
Slowly, deliberately he raised the knife, when suddenly a nearly inaudible noise in his back let him spin on his heels, glaring intently into the semi-darkness.

[ysoria]

Ysoria, dressed all in black clothes and under the disguise of the assassin known as Deloys Fergant, was stealthily slipping through the home of the noble known as Edmund Touper, as her client had informed her. He wanted the man dead, and he had hired her to get that job done. Like natural, she had complied, had taken the upfront gold with the promise of more when the job was complete. Like she needed the gold, she told herself. But still, this was what she enjoyed doing most. Another reason as to why she was slipping through the halls of the noble's home, because the thrill of the possibility of getting caught was absolutely... exciting, as she would explain it. Who knew when someone might turn around the corner, oblivious, and spot her. Still, they would quickly find a dagger sticking out of their closest vital area. Couldn't chance them living and informing their master of her arrival, now could they?

Unluckily, however, no such event had the chance to occur. She was able to slip right under the nose of every guard in the place. How positively boring. She wouldn't have minded some stupidly unexpecting man to come around a corner to look into the face of their demise. Or, at least, her eyes. To hide her identity, as she didn't want no one to know who she was, she wore a black face cloth to match her outfit, sucessfully hiding the lower half of her face. A person had less of a chance to recognize her if they had less of a face to look at. And that way, in the future if they met person to person for some reason, they wouldn't be able to pin her out, and she could act "normal" as people would believe. In reality, this was her version of normal.

Eventually, she was able to make her way to where she figured out to be this Edmund's room. She would kill the guard at the door, slip into the room, and easily kill the noble that was probably fast asleep in his bed. What she didn't expect was that there would be another assassin in this room. And ahead of her, nonetheless! With the gracefulness of a slinking cat, Ysoria stuck to the shadows closest to the wall, and slipped right up to the guard's side. Pulling down her mask just enough to show her face, she tapped his shoulder, upon which the guard turned to face the smiling assassin with surprise, which increased when he felt the dagger slip into the side of his next, slicing his throat. He was wearing light armor, so the quickest way to take him out would be killing him this way. Laying him onto the ground gently -- not because she cared for him, but because she didn't want to awake the man inside the room or alert others --, she pulled up her mask, opened the door and walked right in -- to see the other man already there!

"And who the hell are you?" she said quietly enough for him to hear, but so the noble didn't wake up.

[Éamonn Goronwy]

Éamonn’s heart rate sped up as he realised the door had been opened and someone got inside. Now he had to react quickly! Calculating in his mind he judged the time he would need to get to the window and climb down again. If all things failed he would have to consider jumping the half of it, as soon as he was half way sure he would not break any of his bones in the process.
But first things first, who was the intruder? A guard? But the voice had been female… so a love interest of the noble? He knew that the target was not married, which was fortunate as he would be sleeping alone. But now this woman had showed up… he could use no witnesses! Any moment she could put two and two together, seeing the dagger in his hands and examining his whole black-in-black attire. Good then… first the woman, swiftly and quietly hopefully and then the man he had come for. He could even demand a rise in charge from his client as he had had to deal with unexpected difficulties.

He turned on his heels, the dagger raised threateningly, when two things just occurred to him: One, she should have started alerting someone by now, but in fact her voice had been hushed as if she didn’t want to alert the sleeping Sir Edmund… why for the Gods’ sake?
And then, even in the dim light he could make out some flashy object in her hand she seemed to unconsciously grip tighter… a dagger! And it seemed tainted by something… what was going on here?! The woman even weared a mask similar to his own and was dressed like him in black… the conclusion was so absurd he would have laughed had the situation been any different. What kind of girl would be playing assassin for a pastime? Was this some kind of cruel joke the man on the bed enjoyed? Maybe he liked it to be feign threatened before… Éamonn had heard of crazier things!

Still, all his senses were on alert, he might have to make a quick escape still, and so he forbade himself a smile, when he retorted:
“I could ask you the same!” His voice was low, yet he put on a tone of sheer menace, showing he was no man to mess with. At the same time the muscles of his legs were tense and his stance was slightly leaned forward, to spring at her if the need arose. Of course he would kill her if things came down to that, he could not start making exceptions now just because she was apparently a young woman…
“So, either you spill and then get the hell out of here, or you put on a brave act… which you choose doesn’t matter to me, either way, you might not live long!”