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| Intellectual Dishonesty | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 30 2008, 03:10 PM (260 Views) | |
| Rylianis | Nov 30 2008, 03:10 PM Post #1 |
Lord of the Realm
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Stalker had been lying in the castle gardens since twilight took over the sky, and darkness surrounded the grounds. A few magical wards and guards patrolled the area, but would be easily overcome if encountered. He was very well equipped and very determined to complete the mission, on account of not only the reward, but the connections he would achieve if he had a successful result. He had read the lists for those on duty and visitors to the castle for this day and felt very confident that his mission would not be compromised by a random visitor. It looks like the way will be clear in a few seconds, lets go over the mission one last time. Infiltrate the Castle undetected Infiltrate the Castle Library undetected Disable the magic wards surrounding the sealed sections Take the Ancient Poisons Society journals, volumes I-XXXVII Exfiltrate to the meeting point undetected Reward: 2000 gold and the first opportunity to learn from its contents. A moment he had been anticipating for the past five hours just clicked into motion. The guard on the inner patrol was to the west, the two outer-patrolsmen were converging through the middle, which meant that the magical wards to guard against intruders would be disabled so long as they were in the vicinity. Another two soldiers with guard hounds were talking to the south. His client had equipped him incredibly well for the task - enchanted robes to assist in camouflage, a full set of high-quality spikes, a short sword, a series of magical items to disable wards and the signature item of his contractor to place upon the empty shelf where the books were. It was time. There was one problem, he was under specific instruction not to kill anybody, and there was a certain powerful somebody visiting the castle that night who could prove troublesome. |
 "All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle  Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize  Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | Dec 1 2008, 03:08 AM Post #2 |
former queen of fincayra.
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The magical wards around the castle had to do with old magic, magic that she didn't fully understand. Rika was as accomplished as a magic user as any human, but she was just that - a human. All the elvish works that protected the rulers of Fincayra had nowt to do with her, and so she didn't concern herself. She had her own magic to worry about, and had already placed a few of her own wards, though they seemed to sink beneath the more obvious elven ones. She had no reason to think that anyone who infiltrated the palace would wish her or the King harm, but she knew that it would be unwise to stake her life on that. This was not Blizzard Cove, where most everyone knew and loved her; this was a country with all the problems that countries come with - rebels and anarchists alike. However, it was very different from Blizzard Cove. There were gardens here, beautiful ones, and instead of snow covering the ground, the temperate was quite mild. She could breathe here, and go out in her lightest summer gown without fear of freezing to death. "I have to admit that I did miss the warmth of the sun and summer breezes," she thought to herself, as she strolled down one of the paths. It was dark, twilight had passed, but Rika didn't care. She had no one to talk to, and nights were always the most lonely. "I wonder where Cal is right now," she mused aloud, standing with a flower cupped in her delicate hand. The queen-to-be had barely gotten to see her king in after coming here; he'd been busy with matters of state, and with a new King in Avalon ... well, there was a lot to be dealt with. Their wedding, and other such festivities had to wait while all of that got figured out. "Maybe Suj was right, I should have just married a simple man and lived a simple life," she thought, before bending gently to smell the flower and losing her thoughts in it's clear perfume. It was beautiful here, and she loved her husband. She could not imagine being any other place, even if Cal was a king, he couldn't help that. She had to support him as best she could, and giving up her simple life was just a sacrifice that had to be made for the two of them. She wondered if he knew, or even suspected that she was perhaps unhappy. Keeping it to herself would breed resentment. "Next time I see him, I'll mention that I want to see him more." Edited by Rika Seransi, Dec 1 2008, 03:10 AM.
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| Rylianis | Dec 2 2008, 02:04 AM Post #3 |
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Lord of the Realm
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This gear is really something, huh? I'm practically invisible in this cloak - should I keep it? No - that's unprofessional. Maybe I'll just ask where she got it. Rylianis had dashed through the center of the gardens, taking care to stay low and within the shadows. Light blurred and bended around the his cloak and he ran past, making a curious mixture of translucency and mistiness within the air as he approached his first objective - the castle libraries. Those few people who noticed would only think they saw the wind rustling the foliage. Firstly, however, he had to sneak past the first guards while they were still close by, otherwise the ancient warding spells which provided security and prosperity would do... something to him. He wasn't even sure what they would do to him. They could light him up, they could set him alight, they could tear him apart. At any rate, it is something he wanted to avoid, and if he was capable of moving directly between the two guards without being spotted, he would. Alternatively, he could knock them unconscious, but that runs the risk of death or worse, discovery. To think that this was the easy way in. The Stalker crouched behind a large statue, he was merely three feet from two guards and the beginning of a series of ancient magical barriers. Now that he was close enough to see the markings upon the ground, he recognised them as Elven, and confirmed that he did not wish to be anywhere near them. This part, in theory, was simple. The guards on patrol have some form of magical key, item or blessing which allows them to deactivate the wards as they walked past. To reap the benefits of the deactivated magic, he would have to tail the two men very closely. In practice, these men were castle guards of Fincayra, armed and armoured cap-a-pie and trained to notice things like skilled assassins scaling the castle walls (which, by the way, was the next step if he wasn't disintegrated by elven magic first.) Wasn't there a front door, or a back door, a vine trellis, maybe even a vacant latrine- The men were on the move, and so was he. Step by silent, tentative step, the Stalker crept behind the two guardsmen. Each was carrying a huge polearm which looked like a halberd or a bardiche... or maybe even a guisarme - Rylianis always got the polearms confused, they basically do the same thing in different ways, after all? He was careful not to approach too closely, but neither fall behind and maybe get left behind when the magic reactivated. Above all, he was quiet! It felt as though he was not breathing, his heart was not beating; he was temporarily a dead man whilst he completed this part of the mission. Yet something in his gut told him that there the mission was going to become unstuck somehow. Everything was going far too perfectly, and if it was going to wrong, it would probably go wrong where he was shadowing two well armed guards and had nowhere to go. As he approached the final barriers of protective magic, he noticed a young woman standing alone in the night. She looked like she was deep in thought and… hauntingly sad and lonely. Pretty girl. Wouldn’t mind getting sprung by her… Imagine his surprise when she sprung him, as her ward burst into effect when he took his next step. His vision became white for a moment and his ears rang. His vision was partly restored within moments, but it seemed out of balance and blurry. He didn’t know what had happened to him, or whether the spell failed, but the guards seemed to be afflicted by the same effect and were lying on the ground, dead or hopefully unconscious. Think quick, Stalker! He got up and dragged the body of one guardsman to carry him safely through the rest of the elven magic, then ran at the walls as quickly as possible. His plans had to change, he had failed the first objective, to pass through the gardens undetected, and now he had to retrieve the journals before the entire castle knew of his presence... On the up side, he had already failed the requirements which would get him his bonus – might as well put those spikes to good use. [R4E]Spelling mistakes. Ugh.[/R4E] Edited by Rylianis, Dec 5 2008, 12:01 PM.
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | Mar 30 2009, 11:09 AM Post #4 |
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former queen of fincayra.
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Just as everything had been beautifully silent the moment before, it all broke into dischordance far too soon, and Rika shuddered and hugged herself. Men were shouting on the walls, and there was the profane feeling in her mind that someone had moved past her magic. "Someone is here, someone who does not belong," the realization frightened her; not because she was too weak to protect herself, but because of all the varying reasons why said person would even want to be here. "Theft, murder, rape, pillaging. The ideas are endless." Rika shuddered again. In a wild burst, she could feel the tug on her energy that was her connection to magic, and she faltered. Rika had been sick for many months in the last year or two, and even now her strength and energy was weak. Setting her mouth into a grim line, she severed the connection, regaining her composure. "They're here. Close now," men shouted as they rushed into her area, both guardsmen and the intruder ailed by her magic. "I suppose I have a bit to explain." There was no time for that, however. Rika pulled her hood over her visage and retreated to the shadows, heading for the castle walls. Where was he liable to go? What would he want? Any and all jewels were under triple guard in the dungeon. That alone was common knowledge, so what next? Based on the flags flying from the turrets, the king was not in residence, so an assassin trying to kill the king was not likely, unless the assassin was an idiot. The intruder had already proved the opposite. Kicking off her shoes, she broke in to what could be called a "jog", heading in through a servants entrance, her bare feet padding against the cool rock floors. "Knowledge. The library!" It was the obvious second choice. The castle collection was renowned for both rare, and evil books. Cal said it was because you had to understand the dark side of magic to understand magic at all. So far, the alarm hadn't been raised inside, and guards stared at her as she passed, before dismissing it as one of her oddities. Rika ignored them. It didn't even occur to her to ask for help, or that she perhaps couldn't handle this situation alone. Beyond anything, she was proud - what was one simple thief against her? She was a mage, a gifted one at that. If he or she was just in it to steal, perhaps they would flinch at killing. "I'm banking on a moral set among thieves," she realized, bursting through the double wood doors into the library and heading towards the restricted sections, glad that the floor was carpeted, because she made less sound that way. Moonlight eerily lit up the spaces between books, and she slowed her pace, peering around one section and then the next, waiting for something - some sign. Whoever had attempted to break in had already met with more resistance that one might suspect, and so they were probably flustered. "They want to complete the job, get in and out," she thought, green eyes wide in the darkness, going over every shadow twice. "I'll be waiting." |
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| Rylianis | Mar 31 2009, 02:50 PM Post #5 |
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Lord of the Realm
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It would seem that The Stalker had relied upon the wrong man for his information. His map was wrong in many place, the patrols were inaccurately drawn and their numbers had been underestimated. He would turn left, expecting to find a door, but instead find a wall, or stairs, or a patrol that somehow didn't make it onto his map. He gritted his teeth with disgust, and could only praise his luck that an alarm hadn't already been called. The various corridors of the castle seemed to look the same after a while, and navigating around the place was incredibly difficult. According to the plan, he should already have been in the library by now, and shouldn't have killed anybody. At least I know how to get past their armour now. This intel is the lowest level of human incompetence! I'm going to mutilate the worthless snake who gave me this damned latrine paper for a map... The Stalker approached a corner which lead to the stairs into the royal library... he hoped so, anyway. Quickly peeking around the corner, he noticed a patrol of three well-armed and armoured men approaching him directly. He resolved to quickly double back down the corridor from where he came when another patrol, of a similar kind, approached from that direction. Unlike the guards around the corner, these ones did notice him, and ordered him to halt and state his business. None of your concern, soldier. Back to your post! He ordered, sounding as though the authority to make such an order was assumed. Nobody was fooled, and soon, everyone in the castle would know he was here. This would be a time to make a run for it, he reasoned, and thus he ran down the corridor, with six guards in pursuit. The Stalker remembered the location of those stairs and, whilst running, tried to place his direction relative to those stairs. After all, confusing and killing a few guards was important, but the reason why he was here was to retrieve the scrolls, to free the knowledge trapped in this officious and stuffy castle. Let a bit of air in, I should think... he thought, as he turned a corner and kicked down a door to make it seem he was hidden there, then hid in another room. It was his choice of rooms which made this situation interesting. He kicked down the door to an empty room, and had silently intruded upon the private space of a young noblewoman, who was not obviously pleased to see him - as evinced by her wielding her hairbrush at him and stammering about calling the guards. He looked at this woman coyly, and with a smirk and curious tilt-of-the-head, seemed to ask whether she was really that upset about the situation. It's best not to take chances. He was definitely in a tight spot. He had to leave immediately for the library, but those guards were right outside, on the prowl. What's more, the girl could lose her nerve, start screaming and causing a ruckus, and then that would be all for him. Thus, this took priority, and in a swift motion, he stepped forward and put his gloved finger upon the lips of the woman. She drew in breath to scream, but couldn't find the nerve. His lips curved into a full smile, and told her everything her bored little life wanted to hear... I need you. I need your help - only you will do. His hushed tone and strong arms restrained her, so she could only whisper what he wanted, whether he belonged here, and what exactly he was going to do to her... Nothing - nothing of course. I don't take life or modesty from women - only a bit of time and some information. I'm looking for a book - scrolls actually, rather boring things, nothing a place like this is going to miss. His fingers softly fondled her wavy blonde hair as he spoke. Stuttering in disbelief, she asked whether he was looking for the library then... Smart women. I like smart women - yes, a library is what I seek. How much access do you have to the library? She said that she had never been - due to be married in a week, so there wasn't really a point to learning about anything. The Stalker looked aghast at her, as though she were the one committing the terrible crime. Never been to a library! It was at that moment where the guards knocked on the door once. The Stalker at first instructed the woman to say she was fine, but then interrupted, and let the door go silent. He then pulled out a spike and held it at her throat - she gasped in horror at his apparent betrayal. Relax, my dear. I did give you my word, you won't be harmed. I thought I'd take you to see the library, that's all. A second rap at the door, and a few more guards approached, just in case their intruder was to be found inside. You come with me, and you won't be harmed, and, hopefully, neither will I. The woman said she gave her word, but The Stalker shook his head... A woman's word is like poetry - a beautiful lie. Give me something that a woman cannot lie about. She needed no further hesitation, and passionately kissed the rogue. Women. The door burst open, and he pulled away from their embrace. Two men appeared at the door, polearms extended at the pair of them. The Stalker uttered a gruff "Back up" and, given the appearance of the situation, the guards retreated, weapons at their sides. Drop your weapons, the lady and I desire some privacy in the library. A clutter of weapons then piled up against the other side of the corridor. He slowly moved forward and assessed the situation. The woman told him that there were the six guards on the right, and a clear way to the left. Just a short distance along the left will find them at the library. This distance was traversed with ease, as The Stalker edged backwards, holding the woman captive, whilst the six men walked forward, keeping their eye on each step. Amazingly enough, no alarm had been raised, and as he walked towards those stairs - hostage still in tow, he began to think of how he would lose them. He looked behind him, to find a set of doors at the bottom of the stairs. These would be perfect for the purpose. Once he was ready to move, he took out the the secret weapon he had brought with him just in case - a flash bomb, and kissed his captive upon her cheek. I will always love you he whispered, as a theatrical flourish, and then threw the bomb to the ground. He flew down the stairs as the guard were blinded, and shut the heavy door behind him. This place was dark, and he was glad to finally be here. He took a few steps forward, trying to orient himself in the surroundings, and then set to work to find the scrolls. Edited by Rylianis, Mar 31 2009, 02:51 PM.
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | Apr 7 2009, 06:50 AM Post #6 |
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former queen of fincayra.
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It was nerve-wracking, that's really what it was. She didn't have a weapon on her, nothing she could use against the burglar who had the castle in a uproar. By now, her absence would have been noticed, and the guards would have tripled the search, fearing that she was held captive. There were enough ignorant ninny's in the castle to be used as bait, and chances are he already knew what he was doing and where he was going. She only had the recent acquirement of several more guard squads as a weapon on her side; they would be crawling all over the castle. If the thief could even make it this far, he would not be able to get out. Or at least, that was the idea. "No one is going to come save me, and I'm not some maiden in need of rescuing! By the gods, I'm the Queen! And before that, I was a strong healer! I can do this all on my own," she tried to give herself a pep talk, wondering what she could possibly do. She was strong; magic wise, she hadn't been ill in many months and still had enough to protect herself and ensnare the man who'd broken her wards. Cursing, she ripped her tiara of her head, and her ring off her finger -- there could be nothing to identify her as who she really was, otherwise she'd make a fine target. Carefully, she slid open a drawer to a desk and slipped both inside. She could retrieve them later when the coast was clear and this man was behind bars. Rika had never been more greatful that she dressed simply, without adornment that would be customary of royalty. Now, she could be anyone - a maid, a mage. Anyone who she needed to be. Stalking throughout the library, she slid behind a shelf and peered around the large room. There were plenty of places to hide. Her main advantage would be that she knew the layout, and she had to have the element of surprise. Considering he was a man, he could overpower her easily; if she shocked him, perhaps she would have those extra few seconds to mutter a spell or two to hold him down. The shouting was getting louder, meaning that the guards (and in association, the thief) were getting closer and closer to the library. It seemed that someone had shown him the way. "A pox on whoever that was. I'll be sure to show them just how gracious I can be, after this is over," she thought darkly to herself. "I'll be gracious enough to give them a five second head start before I send the guard after them." She was only a foot or two away from the precious scrolls collection that was on display, and then she heard a bang. She'd just barely scrambled behind a nearby bookcase when a man entered, and then set to work on the scrolls. Rika could not, for the life of her, tell who it was. He didn't seem to be anyone who carried himself with an air that she could inherently recognize. Silently, she crept toward the door, and then whispered a couple words, casting a spell* on the door. The windows were glass and did not open, and the door was warded. He would have to knock her unconscious to even attempt to get out. Stepping out from her hiding place, she placed her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?" Rika glared, and shook her head. "Because I'm pretty sure that ruckus is all about you, and you're the one who broke through my wards. What a rude thing to do. You have five seconds to explain yourself." *spell;; hold. Edited by Rika Seransi, Apr 7 2009, 12:05 PM.
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| Rylianis | Apr 18 2009, 03:53 AM Post #7 |
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Lord of the Realm
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The Stalker froze up, and his eyes widened in surprise. I'm not alone? He thought, as he kept his back turned to the woman who had discovered him. In truth, he had felt the queasy tinge of his elven blood before she had spoken to him, but seeing as he was in a library in the royal palace whose Queen was known for her study in arcane affairs, light breezes and shifts of magical energy would be expected by The Stalker, so he thought little of it. His single-mindedness to the task, however, may have proved to be his undoing. It's a good thing she didn't just kill me straight off. That would have been anticlimactic. Now I get a chance to make my death dramatic. Spectacular. A testament to what The Stalker wanted for his world. A prima donna to the end, it would seem. Rylianis smiled, and shrugged off those thoughts of dying gloriously. He no longer felt particularly sick, which meant that his captor did not intend to kill him... immediately anyway. If he could keep up his debonair shenanigans long enough, maybe he'd be able to overpower the interloper and escape. Most likely, he'd have to bust out of a dungeon, or have a squad of agents attempt to free him. Things would be fine, he reasoned, as long as he didn't die. You got me. Now, what are you going to do with me? The Stalker then decided he might get some work done. I come only to bring the library a gift. Seeing as you probably run things around here, on account of you being found in this library at such an hour, I think it would be safe to my employer's conditions to bail the item to you. Catch? He reached into his cloak and pulled out the small bag containing the item his contractor specified must go in the place of the scroll. With a flick of his left hand, he sent the object sailing through the air, and with the right, he surreptitiously reached for the scroll and placed it inside his sleeve. Misdirection is the finest action in warfare, I should think. It's such fine work that misdirection operates in warfare even when neither side realises that a war is actually taking place... It was at this point where he raised his eyes to look squarely at the lady before him. The woman from the gardens! She's even more beautiful by candlelight. Wait... how did she get here so quickly? Why did she follow me? I'm a dangerous rogue, damnit! What is it with these women!? He allowed none of his confusion to reach his face, which he placidly showed the woman by turning to her, hands above his head. He offered his token half-smile once again, and hoped it would make an impression with the lady before him. I'm but a humble messenger - I hope your worthiness can see this and refrain from frying me where I stand. I am willing to surrender myself to your guards, now that this token has been delivered to you. I will even disarm- He ceased talking, when he realised that the guards were attempting to bash through the door to the library. What is this? That door should be easy to penetrate... perhaps the lady has made a mistake... I hope your excellency - I beg your pardon, I know not your title, has the power to revoke whatever hold you have on those doors, or we may be stuck here for a while. A word of advice, the more men you can bring in to arrest me, the better. I tend to do very well against lone assailants. The Stalker tried to hint that his capture, as opposed to murder, was a good idea, but felt as though he had caused suspicion. The only thing that would determine that matter would be the lady's next move, so he sat down and awaited her instructions. |
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | Apr 19 2009, 03:04 AM Post #8 |
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former queen of fincayra.
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Rika thought that he was being rather foolish and naive. He'd just broken into the royal palace, of course he wasn't alone! There were people running all over the place, attempting to find him ... why should it be so different in the library? She wasn't even quite sure it'd occurred to him yet that she'd trailed him all this way, or that she was the woman who had been in the garden at the time of his entrance. "Nevermind that, it will all be revealed in time," she soothed herself. The only thing that really did impress her was that he kept his back turned; and other than stiffening, there was no real reaction to finding that he wasn't alone in the room. Very classy, she approved. He had a valid point. She did have him. And what was she to do to him? He'd broken so many laws ... well, killing him would be fine in the eyes of the people. They would even hush it over so that it looked like a guard had, and not the Queen herself. The idea made her sick. How could she kill another human being? She'd had to kill before, in the war, and during the plague (the latter being a mercy killing), but it plagued her with nightmares and woke her screaming so many nights. He would just add to her distress, and she didn't want another death on her conscience. Her eyes narrowed, and the bag that flew towards her stopped in midair**. The only thing that betrayed him was the fact that once the bag was stopped, her eyes were drawn to the movement of his hand. "Oh yes, he's a clever one, isn't he? My match, if I haven't met one before. Pity that he does such nefarious deeds at the order of an employer. He could do so much better than that," she thought to herself, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as the bag he threw to her dropped to the floor in between them. There was a high chance it was cursed, and she didn't want to risk it - not yet. Later, she would examine it more closely. "I don't mind staying here," she assured him, mildly, ignoring the fact that her guards were attempting to take out the door by force. Too bad it wouldn't work. "I have no intention of throwing you in any dungeon. In fact, I might let you go unscathed, if you return whatever you've taken from the library. Oh, and perhaps even tell me who you're working for. I so dislike hearing that there are conspiracies going on behind my back." Rolling her eyes as he sat, she propped on hand on her hip. "Look. I don't approve of the thought that a smart man like you would be wasting away in my dungeon for the rest of time. In fact, I don't even really want to kill you, at this point. The hold on the doors is mine, you are correct, and I have the power to revoke it. However, I'd rather not. Once they see you with me .. well, the guards will attempt to kill you on sight. How about a compromise, instead?" **telekinesis |
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| Rylianis | Apr 20 2009, 06:30 PM Post #9 |
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Lord of the Realm
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This one talks the talk, but I doubt she walks the walk, so to speak. On the whole, The Stalker was not very impressed by the woman before him. Surely, he thought her beautiful, and perhaps even with a clever head on her shoulders. On the other hand, he found her manner stuck-up and self-righteous. Had he known that he was talking to the Queen of Fincayra, he might have had an explanation for why he interpreted her as having an affected manner - alas, he wasn't to know that her self-importance was not unjustified. What's more, her magical party tricks were making his bowels rumble. It would not do to show weakness within one's confidence in such a vulnerable position as his. Additionally, he was annoyed because the little spellcasting wench had stopped the bag before it reached her. He noticed as her eyes quickly passed over his person, and considered that maybe she had noticed his little sleight of hand. To consolidate his new prize, he flicked his wrist to lodge the scroll deeper into his robes, he listened intently to her words, searching for a clue as to her knowledge, a clue as to her weaknesses. She doesn't want to imprison me? She couldn't be very important. She's far too casual, and capable, to be any form of royalty here - most likely the daughter to a Count, or wife to a Knight. You've spent too much time thinking. Try and keep her on her toes whilst you find a suitable avenue of attack. His thoughts rushed about, as though he were panicking - indeed he did not feel as though he were in complete control of himself. He contemplated violence, coercion, or just legging it, but nothing seemed to make sense. For some reason, even considering all the skills he had learned over the years, sitting down and talking seemed to be the most viable option. Must be getting soft - though I don't see how... Look, my lady, forgive me, but I don't often believe it when my captors tell me that everything is going to be fine so long as I comply with their demands. I tried that once - only once. On the other hand, my task here was simply to place that object in this library. It could be something meaningful only to somebody in particular. It could be a scrying locus. It could be a bomb. Could be the Queen's damn undergarments. I don't know, and I don't care. He adjusted his seating, and lodging the scroll further into his robes in the process, and continued. His tone did betray a sense of frustration, but that was merely to give the effect of appearing to be honest. Inside his head, he had tossed and turned with the choice of giving up his new possession or continuing to pretend he did not have it. In the end, he decided to risk further agitation (and, consequently, perhaps death) and try to disguise his true intentions further. After all, there's every chance she's merely assumed that I'm in here to steal, and already have stolen what I came for. In the mental rush of considerations of risks, chance potentials, analysis of speech and probabilities of survival, he had almost forgotten that she had offered some sort of compromise. His tone lightened, his facial features became softer, and he spoke with far more respect than his last angered outburst. Forgive my frustration, your worship, but you must understand how... annoyed at myself I am because I have been spotted at all - worse, captured! My reputation will undoubtedly suffer when I get out of here, I may not even be able to find work. You see, for a man like me, reputation and skill two pillars of survival. The other two are instincts and influence. Can't have a house with only two pillars, can you, your grace? If my reputation and skill are in doubt, I am lost. At least, it is better than losing my instinct and skill - I'd probably be dead. I digress, which is something for which I am most sorry. I will hear this compromise you wish to offer me, but it cannot involve mentioning my contractor. He held up the palm of his hand to the lady mage, hoping that she didn't have knowledge of magical oaths and bonds... I am blood-bound not to reveal my master. This, of course, was absolute bollocks. He wasn't getting paid nearly enough to perform blood work, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't mention it. Such a hint might lead to the target gaining knowledge of who had sent the agent against her, and thus The Stalker's blood would quickly boil and evaporate beneath his skin as he had been the cause of such a revelation. What's another lie in this cascade of falsehoods and misdirection? |
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | May 5 2009, 07:12 AM Post #10 |
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former queen of fincayra.
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ooc; Ugh, your's is big. And I'm not talking about body appendages. (: Rika wasn't very impressive. She knew that years in the castle had turned her into a woman that she would not have liked, however, she did not taking people messing with her magic lightly. In any other situation perhaps she could have found it in her heart to be kinder and examine more of why he was doing what he was doing, rather than focusing on the fact that he was doing whatever he was doing. Her attitude came with years of illness and misjudgment, plus the added bonus of having wizened old men (who called themselves 'nobles') telling her that they knew better than she did, on the daily. It was enough to drive her mad, and certainly more than enough to account for her rudeness towards him. He was thief, after all. The silence was driving her mad, because she knew that he was thinking about what she had said. A bad thief would have just accepted the compromise without hearing the terms, but the fact that he was actually putting his mind toward the situation meant that he was no ordinary thief. He knew what he was doing, and bluffing would be foolish on her account. Rika never had been a good liar. Up against a man who made his living on lying, she was simply no match and would embarrass herself and decredit her point. To break into the palace; he must be mad. I'd have most men shaking in their boots by now. I must be getting sweet in my old age... She was just glad that she was far too powerful to really be taken seriously as a hostage. Even if he did capture her, he would have no reason to unless he suspected she was the Queen, but her magic would put an end to that. Mages were tricky and made terrible prisoners, as a general rule. The widespread belief was that they had too many tricks up their sleeve to really ransom, and were far too much trouble than their worth. "Well, I'm fairly certain it's not my Lady's undergarments," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Considering she's not exactly one to leave them laying about." Honestly! How rude. Though, it was amusing, considering who he was speaking to. Raising one delicate eyebrow, she shook her head. Yes, that was all very well and good, but he was full of it, wasn't he? "A man as clever as yourself can find other work. If you do surrender, I might even help you myself," she replied, sharply. "Whatever you're being paid now surely isn't worth the risk you suffer everyday. You might be dead, no matter how many 'pillars' you have to hold up your house. Besides, you obviously haven't seen arches. Only two pillars and they hold up just fine." Her eyebrow raised further when he mentioned blood magic. She didn't know a lot about it, but she'd taken blood oaths herself. Mentioning it was almost suicide. "All I require, at the basest level, is that lovely little scroll you have shoved up one sleeve," she added, sweetly. "Your master can keep you and bind you, because no matter what he does, I will seek him out. I highly doubt that whatever you're trying to hide is enough to bind you by blood. Not many mages can perform that sort of work." "I want the scroll. I want names of your accomplices, I want whatever else you've taken, and I want ...," her voice trailed off. What else did she want? "Mmm. Let's start with that." |
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| Rylianis | May 6 2009, 05:25 AM Post #11 |
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Lord of the Realm
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Risk of death, my dear, is an interesting reality for me. I think I've spent more time thinking about my continued survival as a mere possibility than I have as an assumed certainty. In this, he was not lying at all. Life is cheap and insecure in his business, and when times are tough, plentiful too. Anything could be seen as an edge over one's competitors - including the reputation of having ended the life of The Stalker. Of course, the usual risks of his profession still applied. Frankly, the possibility of death had become a moot point for The Stalker, he functioned better if he didn't think about his mortality at all. I've become loathe to squander my abilities in situations that are of less than critical importance and do not require my finely honed skills - would you have me shuffling papers in your spy network, or something as dull as that? Your argument stands good against almost anybody, because they're too afraid to die for a cause. That's not me. This, on the other hand, was a half-truth. Rylianis was always afraid of death, whether he devoted his attention to it or not. However, he wasn't afraid because his own existence was in jeopardy, but because he had not yet done enough in this world to justify moving on to the next - whatever that may be. Rylianis would die for a cause, so long as he knew it would be done, and all of Avalon would know of what it meant to be alive, and to be The Stalker. Half-way through this train of thought, it became very clear to Rylianis just how much he loved to talk about himself. The fact that he was vain was clearly established by this point, but it had never been so bad as to endanger missions the way it was now. Once again, the absurdity of his situation brought itself to the forefront of his mind, how he was talking to this person who and interfered with his mission, even flirting with her... Of course! I'm talking about myself not because I love myself, but because I want to make an impression on her. I also don't think it'll help me get free, at least in the short term, so it logically follows that there's only one possible motivation for continuing to follow the least effective route to escape. I must... want to stay for a while, to hear her compromise, maybe see what it's like. This is different to that girl upstairs - she is easily a tool for my ends. This one, however, refuses to fall for any of my old tricks. She knows I've got her scroll and she has a good idea that I'm not blood-bound to do or say anything. I think... I'll try this out. This was the beginning of a strange, heart-breakingly tragic, vicious and powerful saga, which would be told amongst the inner circle of thieves, assassins, saboteurs, spies and other ne'er-do-wells, as "The Exception Which Proves the Golden Rule." The Stalker, for the first time in his forty year career as a freelance agent, servant to the Eternal Order and all other roles and positions in between, would betray his master. Of course, he wouldn't do it immediately, and wouldn't do it without a bit of a fight, but he was interested to see what this woman had in mind for his "capture," seeing as she was prepared to deal equitably with him, and then some. He also did not detect, with his limited sense in that regard, any form of lie or trick in her words - she seemed genuinely interested in knowing who he is, and why he is here. The Stalker stood up, and dusted off his tunic. His mind was racing with all the new and interesting opportunities that lay ahead of him, granted that he could give himself the right to terminate a contract if fulfilling it was impossible or inimical to his life. The scroll, by this act, further embedded itself in his clothing, and presently resided against his lower chest, just underneath the right rib. You win. He uttered. This was an entirely new situation to him. Usually, this was the last thing he would utter in a situation like this, in order to lull his opponent into a false sense of security, then enact his escape plan - but his mind was clear of such things, he had no interest in an escape. It might seem odd, but the way you put that actually makes more sense than it did a moment ago. Problem is, I've been going on nearly forty years of training to not do what I'm about to do, so I'm going to need a little help. He walked closer to the... captor? Could he call her a captor anymore? Or an enemy? Or an ally? Puzzles in his brain began to form, and new sentiments began to be felt in his gut when he considered all the different kinds of power relationships that this shift in the rules had created. He finally stopped about three feet away from her, smiled warmly, and tried to do this in the best way he could. Starting with this scroll business. Now, I didn't take any scroll from this library, and I didn't attempt to misdirect you so that you wouldn't notice me not doing that, and I certainly haven't spent this conversation finding new and interesting ways to conceal the scroll that I do not possess upon my body. Given that to be the case, I wouldn't mind if you... ah, helped out by checking to make sure that it isn't there. He chuckled slightly at what he saw to be a rather witty way of explaining things, and hoped she would understand that he had temporarily abandoned his guises and his lies in favour of... a higher prerogative. |
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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| Rika Seransi | Jun 5 2009, 09:58 AM Post #12 |
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former queen of fincayra.
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Strangely enough, she hadn't even registered that he was calling her by the same pet names that Cal did. Interesting. She wasn't exactly one to notice those things, but they were important. Especially considering he was the one who was held hostage in her library, with her property shoved into his robes. He wasn't in a situation where it would be anything near appropriate. Her eyes burned in the darkness, and she propped her hand on one hip, the stance giving her a strange amount of confidence and strength. She was on her own, and there was something empowering about that. For once, in her life, she was going to do something by herself. "A spy seems wasted shuffling papers, or at least, to me. You assume that I have the power for a spy network. You don't even know me," at that, she tossed her head proudly. "The only thing you do know is I hold the power to keep you here for years, without losing concentration or magic." Rika wasn't quite sure what she was going to do with him next: to be honest, she'd been making it up as she went along and her plan had just hit a wall. She knew what others in her situation would do; lie through their teeth and lock him up / behead him anyway. "It's interesting, having morals. Makes ruling a lot more fun, I suppose," she thought to herself. This was one of the few times she'd found herself in a situation where she alone had a decision to make (the last being when Cal had proposed). And something in the air changed. Whether he was the one who had changed, or it was just the situation, there was an invisible shift in power. Rika, for all that she could handle herself in a high-stress situation, was confused. She didn't think that any of the terms on her end had changed; they were still bargaining with his freedom, possibly his life, and the return of her property. But now, it seemed like the stakes were infinitely higher and included more than just what was on the table. The thief stood, and warily she took a step back. If he was going to throw a knife, she would need to concentrate on his body language to be able to react in time. Even the most skilled of fighters had signs in their stance that showed when an attack was coming; sometimes it was just a twitch of the upper arm, or the pectoral muscle. That was enough to stand between life and death. "I have no mind to be duped by this fool." The words were utterly astounding. She won? Just like that? It seemed ridiculously easy, and for a moment, she didn't react; she just watched him for the sign of a trick that had to be coming. The only reason why men surrendered so easily was because they had something hidden up their sleeves (in this case, something other than her scroll). He had to be playing her false, otherwise there would be no reason for him to surrender. She'd only told him in no uncertain terms that he was going to be giving up his employer and the scroll, and perhaps then he would get out of this alive. Rika's mouth twitched, but she was glad when he stopped three feet away from her. For a moment, something shifted in her emotions, and she no longer found herself as calm as she was before. It was unnerving, being surrendered to. "No! I have to finish this out. I can't be so foolish as to allow him to trick me when I've come so far." After a moment of silence, she took a step forward, her eyes guarded but not as hostile as they had been for the rest of the conversation. She wouldn't be tricked, but his phrasing did cause her to smile a bit. Brilliant. If he was bloodspelled, it had to have been highly specific. He wasn't telling her to that he had taken anything; magic couldn't account for inflection in tone and voice. Nor could it really understand what he was saying. "It would be my ... honor?" For a moment she hesitated, checking to make sure the wards that surrounded her body to prevent her from harm were not being affected by her other spells on the door; she had plenty of strength, but not even she could manage more than five spells at once. It gave her a headache, to be honest. Gingerly, she closed the distance between them, ready for any sudden movements, and patted his arms up and down, searching without actually searching him. After she realized that it had migrated, a slight flush stained her cheeks. "I trust you have only the most honorable intentions," she replied, evenly, though her cheeks told the real story. Up her hands went, over shoulders, gently skittering down his front, no longer patting, but gently sliding instead. She rested slightly at his abdominals, eyes narrowed on his face. "And that this wasn't what you intended all along."[R4E]Ugh, messed up coding.[/R4E] Edited by Rika Seransi, Jun 5 2009, 09:59 AM.
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| Rylianis | Jul 5 2009, 10:22 AM Post #13 |
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Lord of the Realm
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Honourable intentions? My dear, I assure you that I came only with the least honourable intentions possible - your lady in the floor above can attest to that. The Stalker's voice took a more lyrical and high-brow tone, which he felt suited the mood of the situation. He also felt as though he was talking to someone who was quite powerful, but in her own way, a proud, but occasionally ill-prepared way. I suppose they could have been worse if I intended to deprive anyone of life, but beyond that? Pure evil, lady. In truth, he was quite enjoying the strange feelings that accompanied the strange sensation of her fingers against his garb, as they traced the contours of his chest. It felt more than just physically pleasurable, it contained in it a strange sense of freedom too. To The Stalker, freedom was nothing more than a concept attached to a lack of a specific duty. It was the time in between contracts, which he would spend... looking for more contracts, or perfecting his skill, or some other form of book-keeping, business dealing or skull-cracking. Freedom was the option to choose from a set number of future duties. This was something totally different - there was no responsibility, no objective, no waypoints, no right or wrong way to do things. Above all, he felt the true blessing of freedom, that is, the personal liberty to decide what is best. Unconsciously, the force which kept him alive was also manipulating him into feeling as though his choices were his own. This clever delusion began to peel back within the walls of the castle, as its own magic interfered with the hidden hand at work in Rylianis' mind. With all that peeled away, his tired eyes viewed this library like an entirely new world, and looked upon it as a child would. His eyes rested on the woman before him, and saw her as a myriad new and beautiful things, possible choices and valuable, intense experiences. He stepped closer - basking in the utter strangeness of his newfound liberty and affections. The part of his mind that would have advised him to calm down, or say something to the woman to avoid her becoming uncomfortable with his apparent fixation and otherworldliness. That voice was but a whisper in his state. In other parts of the universe, the Trickster God was becoming exceedingly impatient with this divergence in his plan for continued chaos in Avalon. Rylianis is well-known to the deity, and is often looked favourably upon as an agent of discord in the mortal realms. On the other hand, however, his charge is to administer all the dishonourable dealings, shanky agreements and underhanded contracts that the rogues of the world will engage in. Rylianis, therefore, was a considerable burden on his time, too. A burden he was willing to suffer, so long as Rylianis played by the rules and accomplished some neat and interesting things. Dumping a contract for some whore in a library? The greatest whore in Fincayra, no less? The Trickster God's misoginy, combined with his duties as an enforcer of contracts and the fact he was feeling a little under the weather at the time, meant that he was particularly vengeful. With a wave of his divine hand, he summoned two tricksters to "handle" the situation, and gave a very special gift to Rylianis himself. As he stood in front of the woman, still transfixed by her gaze, the whole world seemed to collapse around him. A sudden burst of divine magic filled his body, and he thought he heard a whisper at the back of his mind - From an offended trickster - with love! He fell to his knees, fighting the urge to puke up all his organs. Shivering, with a look of desperation in his eyes, he attempted to mutter something about an apology, or a warning, but nothing made it through the haze. He collapsed, spewing forth a small amount of white liquid of yoghurt consistency, and fell unconscious. Meanwhile, outside, the tricksters had disposed of the guards trying to get through the door, and were figuring out a way to get inside the library. Once inside, their mission was to kill everything, and bring back souvenirs. |
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"All the names of good and evil are parables: they do not declare, but only hint. Whoever among you seeks knowledge of them is a fool!" Friedrich Nietzsche Character Inventory - Character Journal Open RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Currently Running RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Previous and Inactive RPs: Spoiler: click to toggle Used tissues, from Denthúl - Festival 09 Raffle Ticket2009 Raffle Consolation Prize Albino Mouse A rare albino mouse. Though if there are so many given out as prizes this year, one must wonder why they're dubbed 'rare'. | |
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1:56 AM Mar 20
