Day: 25 Quarter: Tria Year: 81373 <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Warning: The following thread may contain scripts of graphic violence which maybe unsuitable for some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised. This thread is also dated for five years back for those keeping tabs. Okay, now that thats out of the way, lets have a bit of fun. B) </td></tr></table> Beksyj Pubeym, the self-proclaimed 'Ubamdaj' was a master assassin at the top of his game. Nearing the ripe age of 100 there were arguably few pendragons who could hold a candle to his skill. But, that was before he changed. Beksyj, despite his age, wisdom, and skill did the one thing assassins are taught to avoid from their first lesson, he became emotionally involved. He had allowed himself to feel mercy for his contract which inevitably led him to question everything about himself. And, it festered. He began to see his life as a mistake that needed correcting. But, instead of ending his own existence, he decide to go out on one more contract. One of his own creation. And, in doing so caused a ripple of anger throughout the entire undergound world of the dark arts. He began hunting down assassins, not masters like himself. Not even journeymen. He hunted amatuers. Those just beginning their journeys. Those just starting to live on their own. Those that were weak. Kuem knew of the events very quickly. News could travel like wildfire when it was hot enough, and this was the hottest topic in Bhim. But, he had heard this news well over a year ago. And, he had done nothing. Despite all that may have been called 'wrong' about what Ubamdaj was doing, in the end Kuem never killed for free. It had taken a full year for a contract to finally be issued. Kuem had met briefly with the sobbing mother of a mere 17 year old daughter. He had listened to her story with little interest as well, after all he had heard it before. Ubamdaj arrived in the middle of the night, made a grandiose speech about the evilness of the assassins' trade and then slew her daughter as she watched. It wasn't new to Kuem. He had heard eleven other reports in the past season alone. The mother didn't have much to offer. Her payment was little more than a small set of throwing daggers which had belonged to her daughter. While a large part of him very nearly caused him to decline the contract until a better one came along...he grudgingly accepted. In the end, he did have to admit that a assassin gone mad was a problem that needed dealing with. And, that is what had brought him back to Bhim. He had pursued Ubamdaj day and night with little rest in between. He had caught up with him several days earlier, but Ubamdaj had escaped. The advantage was Kuem's though, after putting the throwing daggers to some use (and losing them in the process) he had seriously wounded the ghostly-white furred pendragon and forced him to take flight. Several days of tracking splatterings of blood were hard enough, especially when Kuem wasn't a tracker, but the scent of fresh blood was always finding its way to his nose and he could tell he was getting closer. Kuem had kept to the ground during his pursuit to conserve as much energy as he could. He knew he would need it for when he finally caught up with Ubamdaj. Because, one of them was bound for a one way trip to Fronima. And, it wasn't going to be Kuem. Darkness had long fallen before Kuem first heard the crunching of tree branches. He knew he had finally caught him. Briefly wondering if all of that noise was merely the splintering of wood or Ubamdaj's skull, Kuem made a mad dash through the trees. He found Ubamdaj much the way he had last seen him. Bleeding heavily, out of breath, and a raving lunatic. But, that still didn't stop him from fighting. Or, attempting to anyway. The truth was, Ubamdaj had depleted all of his energy trying to get away. The game was over. Kuem stood over Ubamdaj for quite awhile staring into the eyes of the mad pendragon. Before finally speaking one single word. <font color=red>"Khakcnusa..."</font> Forgetting the sword he kept sheathed at his side, Kuem lunged for the throat of Ubamdaj, claws extended. No screams or pledges of undying hatred ever escaped Ubamdaj's lips. Though that came as no surprise. Ripping the vocal cords from ones throat tended to put a damper on any conversation. Kuem watched for the better part of an hour as the old fool fought desperately to get air while slowly bleeding to death. He could almost admire the pendragons survival instincts...almost. But, inevitably it did end. The last of Ubamdaj's lifeblood steadily seeped out of the large gap Kuem had tore from his throat. It was over. Contract fulfilled. Now he needed a warm bath and a good night's sleep. He would be denied both. It was only a few short minutes after he had set off for the nearest hotel to his recollection, 'The Crimson Blade,' when he spotted lights and heard the vague sounds of numerous people speaking. If he wasn't as tired as he was, he would've been of sounder judgement and probably have avoided the crowd all together. But, as it was, he needed sleep and the closest bed was several miles away, straight past those gathered here. He started to skirt his way around the edges of the clearing in which the mass had gathered, until one particular pendragon caught his eye. Sampson, his informant was standing in the center of the large mass of pendragons with ten others that Kuem figured to be other informers. Which meant the rest were assassin. Curiosity quickly overcame his need for sleep and he made his way towards the clearing. Making his way to the center of the crowd was a task unto itself, no one seemed very keen on missing any bit of what the informants had to say. Occasionally he picked up bits of conversation from among some of the assassin. 'Easy money...' 'Largest contract...' 'Its all mine...' None of which made much sense. Finally making his way to the front, he walked straight to Sampson. <font color=red>"Whats going on, Sampson? Trying to keep me out of the loop?"</font> Sampson who was in the middle of a conversation with a fellow informant, quickly broke away and came to him. But, he never had the chance to speak as another informant quickly cut in. "Who do you think you are interrupting us. We're trying to explain about the new contract!" Kuem gazed at him for a moment before speaking. <font color=red>"Me? I'm Kuem Panymtruma and I believe my remarks were meant for Sampson here, not you. So unless you would enjoy having me add your blood to the blood already on my paws tonight, I would suggest you kindly keep quiet.</font> As it was, Kuem could have stopped with giving his name. That alone seemed to make the informant turn pale. The added threat seemed to cause him to shrink back amongst his brethren...who looked like they very much would've liked to have done the same. He heard his name being muttered among the crowd surrounding him as well. He had little doubt most of the pendragons here were amatuers. And, by now they had heard of him. If not, their neighbors seemed to be quickly informing the rest. Sampson, now uninterrupted, finally approached Kuem and the two walked off towards the outline of the trees. No one impeded his walking this time around. "How did it go with Ubamdaj?" <font color=red>"Walk about three hundred yards west and you can see whats left of him for yourself. Old fool put up a decent fight though. Had me chasing him for days. I was looking for a bed when I came across your little gathering here. Now are you going to tell me whats going on?</font> "Its a new contract, just issued a day ago. Its brought in quite a crowd. Their calling it 'Sha Djaus Homs.'" Kuem nearly laughed. <font color=red>"The Great Hunt? What idiot came up with that?"</font> Sampson looked indignant, which was enough to answer his question. "Never mind that. Its an easy contract with a very hefty reward. A full set of golden armour, a Mansukhan sword, and ten blood rubies to whoever fulfills the contract." Kuem wondered briefly whose life would be worth such a sum, Sampson answered before Kuem could ask. "Hullea Pyfmemd, shes a thief out of Swaraj, apparently stole an important document from the wrong sort of person. Its actually believed that shes hiding in Bhim now. Quite foolish if you ask me. It really is a simple contract, but the document must be recovered." Sampson finally left Kuem to his thoughts while he returned to continue addressing the crowd. Sampson's fellow informants occasionally gave a nervous glance in Kuem's direction, but he ignored them. What document was worth such a price? <font color=red>"Only one way to answer that. Doesn't look like I'll have much competition anyway."</font>
// <span style='color:#B5CEE1'>The Blue Phoenix</span> \\ a.k.a. Nix, Enigma, Noaja Em'Telamka, Ihykis Fynr Primary Trade ¤ Assassin (M) Secondary Trade ¤ Sightless Fighting (M) Tertiary Trade ¤ Tactics (M) Quaternary Trade ¤ Tracking (M) <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>For this thread, she'll be using her alias 'Noaja Em'Telamka', just an FYI. ;) I didn't want to confuse anyone by not calling her Nix like I always do. Not people realize she's the same person, but the ones who aren't in the loop think each of her aliases are master assassins. And she doesn't tell them any different. mwa.</td></tr></table> Nix had woken up not too long ago. She'd been on a journey for a little less than a day now. It had taken no time at all for the femme to overhear of such an interesting offer. And her life was contract killing. Had been for some time. And she was quite capable at it. The self-inflicted scars-turned-tattoos up and down her legs was enough evidence of that. Each one standing for another pendragon shed murdered for a price. Knowing Bhim like the back of her paw, the quaddie pendragon stalks through the dark alleyways. She was never afraid of someone leaping out to murder her. She would sense them, and finish them off before they even started. So it was with her sightless fighting - she could simply sense where a creature stood by carefully listening to her surroundings. The training came in handy when she needed to kill someone in the dark. As it usually was. Not many were killed in broad daylight, though she had done her fair share of daylight kills. Those were the cruellest. The pendragon generally saw it coming. At night, unless she were sloppy and made noise (which almost never happened) they were generally asleep - and simply never woke up. But the past was behind her. Faces she killed were forgotten the moment she sent their souls to Fromina. It wouldn't do to dwell in the past, even though part of her past haunted her every day. But she would ignore the anguish, like she always did. Tonight, she was here to win a contract. She shifts mid-walk to a biped form. Her mop of light blue tresses turn to wavy curls about her delicate wolfish face. Her trim feminine frame was enough to make one think she was a seductress, though she disliked that trade entirely. Around her shoulders a deep brown cloak flows gracefully, the hood pulled up around her head. The only thing that would be visible, were her baby blue eyes, her nose and the front half of her muzzle, and whatever soft tresses did not fit inside the hood. Strapped to her body were her favorite weapons. Two sais in individual and specialized holsters on either side of her hip, a set of very sharp throwing stars in a pouch on the left side, which she usually only used to trip up a fleeing contract - killing a 'dragon meant making sure they were dead. And you couldn't do that from far away. And then her dagger, strapped to her right thigh. The blade was easily a foot long, thin, curved, but strong as anything could be. It was crafted of folded steel, she'd specially requested the blade be folded many times more than was normal. If she ever got in a battle with this blade, she wanted to make sure it would cut through anything like a hot knife through butter. Finally, a coiled whip lays dormant on her right side. Like the throwing stars, the whip was used to trip up a contract - or to strangle them, when the one who hired her wished for no open wounds. Simply put, she was prepared for any contest she must face. Her presence was enough to part the masses. In Bhim, when your sixth sense told you to stay away from someone - you did. And tonight, Nix was no one to mess with. She makes her way through the crowd with very little effort, they made way for her out of curiosity and fear, then closed up the gap she left behind as quickly as they let her pass. She stops as she reaches the center of the crowd, and studies the faces and physiques of the ones who would apparently be her competition for the night. Listening to one male speak, she decides to reply directly to his last comment. Her silverly voice speaks up softly, but with boundless strength and a lack of fear behind it. <span style='color:#B5CEE1'>"But what little competition you have will be added to. By me."</span> Nix does not smile - she was not going to act cocky, not that she did anyway. She was here to win. And, until they asked, she would not relinquish her name.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td><span style='color:#811214'>Archon Vantro Male~ 4100 \\Trades// Mercenary~Master Machina Technology~Journeyman Assassin~ Master</span></td></tr></table> <span style='color:#811214'> “Such a tolerable night…perhaps a better day,"</span> Whispered though the shallow space with it aged bed and dusty dressers, Archon looked out outside from the unfinished room on the upper level of The Crimson Blade. It was planned to become a high-class suite in order to attach more business and provisions from local traders. Apparently, this didn’t turned out as intended due to a murder scene of a couple that occurred just as they introduced the suite, which of course, was none his doing. The bodies being displayed as a warning made it a exact opposite of his handiwork, yet it all depended on what his employer paid him to do. He, of course, followed on how ‘clean’ they wanted the death to be. Marking the idea now as a bad omen, the suite, while being the largest one in the inn, was abandoned, hasn’t been tended to for ages to explain the dust. No one coming to this floor, other than making a really shady deal, was a free and low-profile service to Archon, in which he just scaled the wall and made himself home….not that he feared his life about being discovered. It was his patience, which was lacking enough not to want a bunch of bounty hunters pursuing him the fine riches promised by a few active lords in Adamaint. The big metal monster rush has slowed down a bit, or at least by every time he asked a fellow mercery to attempt it, received a dirty look. It was no longer the big challenge, name set in history as it was ten years ago. Archon advertised well enough to label himself as an act of gruesome suicide to his hunters and lately they took the message very well. He gave himself awakening stretch, erupting an eerie pop from the metal parts along with the natural cracking on bones, until he narrowed his eyes below as a rush of dragon entered into the inn. It was too much of bustle to take them as a traveling group,Perhaps I spoke too soon… He could have been spotted the night he snuck in, as he didn’t try to hide himself. Even when it was not the case, it was time for him to move on. There was always a dragon wanting another to die. . .and another to bid more into order to grant the favor. The band of throwing knifes was strapped back on his chest with more effort with the curve back blades to close and locked the strap in place. A small bag, with tool of his trades, was lifted to his shoulder after a dark aburn cloak, with scythed cross in dark red on the back, covered his body to his feet and the metal tail coiled underneath and out-of-sight. Archon descended on the steps without the notice of other patrons and entered the lobby as if he was just another customer. It was rarely the case that the owner would have noticed the extra customer, since a lot of dragon was gathered in such a queer setting. However, it made Archon smiled a little upon hearing something about a contract that he sat on the steps, looking down at the floor as he listened on, like he was an casual loiter. Simple enough…but I hate to take such easy work without looking a gifted ‘hyjta’ in the mouth. There was something about this job that was going to annoy him, scratch himself up or both, then came Kuem’s comment about completion which cause him to glare as the dragon, then leered after hearing one response followed by another, <span style='color:#811214'> “You never know who will want to have their fun nowadays, and since stealing so happened to be one of my processions. . ." </span> It would be a double job. Although the comment was meant to sound cocky, the stern tone pronouced otherwise.
For the briefest of moments, Kuem gazed almost longingly at the Crimson Blade. A bed and bath may have been out of the question now, but he couldn't help the temporary feeling that a child must feel having a pretty dangled under their nose and then snatched away at the last moment. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned away. Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford tonight. It would've been for the best to put as much distance between himself and the crowd gathered here before they all set off. So, with a brief fluttering of his wings he started to trod off for the Calamarha Swamp. It was as good a place to start as any. Especially if this thief knew Bhim well. The Calamarha Swamp would make an excellent place to remain concealed awaiting for the heat to die down. Kuem didn't manage to get much more than a step or two really before someone spoke to him. He turned his metallic silver eyes to gaze at whoever this was hidden within a brown cloak. Lack of sleep and physical fatigue may have prevented his noticing her approach, but his eyes could still recognize talent. And, perhaps it seemed he had spoken too soon about the members of the crowd. Perhaps... <font color=red>"Perhaps and then again perhaps not. One can never be too sure of anything nowadays. Now if you will excuse me, I have a contract to collect on."</font> His voice held no emotion whatsoever, it was little more than a deep drawl. However, she took what he said was up to her. The fact was, time was of the essence here. It would be best to find this thief before dawn. Otherwise, the added Tria heat would force him to seek a place to rest. There was no attempt at leaving this time, Kuem had managed to catch a distinct change in the sell of the air. Besides the blood already dried on his paws, he could smell...oil? He turned his head slightly and offered a brief glance at the new arrival. While he had seen pendragons who opted for machina enhancement in the past, it had been quite awhile since he had. And, the pendragon's comment just didn't sit well with him. <font color=red>"I believe you're in need of a tune up old man. I could've sworn I just heard myself say 'I have a contract to collect on.' Perhaps you can go find the next set of parts you need to fix that problem, while I handle my business."</font> <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td> I couldn't resist. :P </td></tr></table>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Even if it's five years back, Archon is only a year older than Kuem, soo…This is not my best work though ::sniffs:: :( </td></tr></table> Archon really smirked at this dragon, calling him for old when anyone could point out that they’re almost the same age, unless he have mistaken someone else for him. Nothing serious to counter about the machina as miniature machine that acted as a whole clicked with interest. He couldn’t get angry with the guy long enough to rip his throat out, because it was sort of fun game to him… He stepped off the stairs, demanding of respect as the other moved away from him as he landed and cleared the crowd by his own power. Rested and content, his intense strength rousted easily though them without a single word of his voice until he was the doorway leading outside. Shattering of metal clattered on the floor from a dagger that broke when it struck him in the back, close to the vertebrata when it was layered with a dark metal shell that spread a foot outward. The owner of it found something hard slammed him in the legs, with a familiar shatter of bone, and that something retreated into his cloak before anyone caught an eye of what it was. He froze, leaving his back towards them, looking at the sky ahead on him, <span style='color:#811214'>“Nice contradicting yourself, my friend, with the interesting perspective of age. . .I’ll do you a favor of seeing to it on my way to find the missing parts to your brain. . .you said you have contract to collect on, then do it…"</span> Archon was never a lover of talk, so he was really blunt as he cleared the last column of people and left to the street, <span style='color:#811214'> “...before I do."</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>I knew how close their ages were :P. Kuem does something I got from playing Suidoken III, anyone he sees as 'older' than himself, he calls old. Anyone younger is a child. Not exactly meant as an insult, simply a distorted viewing of his own age being the optimum age to be. Though in this case, insult may have been involved. :)</td></tr></table> A deadly smirk slowly formed on Kuem's face, though any feeling in it never touched his eyes. <font color=red>"Do I detect a note of challenge? Care to put yout money where your mouth is old man? Perhaps if you somehow manage to beat me to the punch, I'll spring for your next tune up. And, when I win, you can spring for a nice week of relaxation in Chafuo."</font> Turning his head back to the Nix, Kuem decided to turn this matter into a real challenge. <font color=red>"Maybe you would like to get in on the bet as well, child. When I win, maybe you could join me for that week."</font> It was an empty statement at best. The truth was, Kuem had about as much interest in the feminine persuasion as he had with anything else in life. Very little at best. At least, with the exception of a drunken romp with a girl who tended to have a price rivaling some of his best contracts. But, that was beside the point.
If there was one thing to count on, it was the male ego. While they argued and battled, and perhaps wounded, or even killed one another, she would get the information she needed, and disappear into the night before they even knew she was gone. She would fulfill the contract while they stood there, posturing and clucking like a pair of fighting cocks. The female resists sighing tiredly at their word games and insults, and instead, slowly walks around them, her downswept head and demure movements gathered no ill-wanted attention. She was headed straight for the batch of the most nervous pendragons gathered. Nix naturally assumed they were ready to piss themselves due to their knowing far too much than was worthy of their status, and already they had gotten a death threat from one of the males. Her soft voice speaks toneless yet gentle words to the informants, but surprisingly enough, her voice carries for everyone to hear. <span style='color:#B5CEE1'>"Whomever can give me the most useful information about Hullea Pyfmemd will share in the spoils. I want to know her favorite resting places, her closest relationships, and who hires her most."</span> If no one gave her the information she wanted, she would simply kill until she received it. Death always made the remaining weak hearted fools talk, just to save their own skins. And if the mettle these informants were made of was anything to bargain, she'd certainly bet that they'd spill within seconds. You needn't run into the lions' den to capture the lion. You simply needed to find where the lion hurts the most, and push. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>*note: Just to clear something up before confusion gets started, I don't mean your characters are acting like dicks, lmao. I mean they're acting like roosters: y'know, cock fighting. Fluffing, clucking, talking the talk, right before they tear into one another and try to murder their foe. Kinda like pitbull fights, but with chickens. Neither legal. lol! ;)</td></tr></table>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>I knew what you mean, lol</td></tr></table> His eyes narrowed at the dragon's challenge, <span style='color:#811214'>"A worthless reward if I win, and a not so costly expense if I lose....what a choice." </span> Archon meant that with every breath of sarcasm. No mechanic can fix his arms, more or less tune them, and the machine on his arms have a tendency to 'tune themselves' and a trip to whatever he was babbling about would mean next to nothing. Personally, he didn't have time to be an egotist ,<span style='color:#811214'> "I think your bet is bullshit, talk to me when you have one that I cared about."</span> He looked at the crowd to notice that a few assassins as left to pursue,<span style='color:#811214'> "Now you wasted my time and now my real competition has started ,nioti, So long."</span> He was gone before Kuem was given a chance to counter. _____ It takes a thief to catch a thief.... It was time to test theory as he slipped into the alleys, took a quarter turn of an old statue, standing over the safe hall of the Internal Reavers, a larceny club where the devious deals were made over stolen valuables, the stuffs that not mainstream by pirates and transporters like himself. People here made thievery a science, an art that they shared with other in silence from the concealing entrances to lock picking. It was built like a flea market with scarce crowds around the cunning merchants with their boosted load. A merchant grinning as he flipped with the huge stack Bhjans and a jewel brooch that he just received when a huge cloaked figure stood over him with his request, <span style='color:#811214'>“I wish to see Neth…" </span> The sound of name could the merchant to change modes into the one where he would grab the knife under the counter. Archon grabbed the man’s arm, hearing the crack of the wrist as he pulled up an amulet in front of the merchant’s face for him to watch the aged bronze relief of the crazy gemstone spinning in his face. If all the thieves in Bhim were a mob, Neth would be the godfather. The orphan beggar turned into the greatest thief known in the underworld when he started stealing fruit from carts for food, then slashing jewel pouch underneath the shopping until there was no security guard or lock he could breached. His commission would cost fifty rubies even if the loot was a piece of bread, because he was simply a ghost and made his target disappeared in his walk. He rarely takes jobs anymore and it was not because he was getting too old for speed, no, he was still quick as a lighting cat on steroids. Now, a family has forced him on standby, until slowing pace being a mediator of the underworld, a mentor teaching new ones the trade, most of the time enough for his student to get a decent meal daily. He was a organized lord without using blades and blood to gain control…its with a cold diamond mound of respect. <span style='color:#811214'>“You’re definably need of a secretary,"</span> Archon remarked throwing merchant in front of Neth’s table before stepping though the tapestry, made to look like a part of the stone wall, himself. “And you’re definably in need of your subtlety retaught, puppy or do you want to me become your tutor once again?" Neth put away the box puzzle he was pondering about before the intrusion. <span style='color:#811214'>"Would love to…" </span> Archon smiled in cession, <span style='color:#811214'>“You can start your lesson with helping me find a certain person, someone by the name of Hullea Pyfmemd, Swaraj’s cut of fat" </span> Neth narrowed a fiece eye at Archon, knowing very well about his code of honor about never revealing another thief’s location or such by friendship alone. The assassin knew this, <span style='color:#811214'>“The code won’t be broken…this will be bound by something solid."</span> “How solid…you know I won’t take junk," <span style='color:#811214'>“Hear about your second son was having birthday in a week….and he’s what? 1700?"</span> “2000." <span style='color:#811214'>“Oh?"</span> Archon raised an interested eyebrow, <span style='color:#811214'>“This is the year to retain your family’s old tradition when, don’t tell me…"</span> scratching his chin in thought before a quick snap of his metal fingertip, <span style='color:#811214'>“Your son gets his first sword, right?"</span> “Shove it up your steel ass, Archon." Neth snapped, if it to stop the coming of a bad deal before it was offered, “You can snatch every sword in the world and it wouldn’t be enough to make me help you." <span style='color:#811214'>“What about a Mansukhan sword?"</span> “Eleanor?" Neth looked at him surprised. One of the sword that were very hard to find. Named after the creature at was very hard to find…this one almost got him killed. <span style='color:#811214'>“Raised my luck enough and I’ll raise yours…for your son’s sake."</span> “…" Neth lowered his head and turned around looking at the wall look there was a bug crawling on it and he pressed his finger as if he squashed it, “….Get out" Archon shrugged as he gave the older one his bow of respect, leaving the room. ___________ Archon walked along the slum parts of the city, being haggle by some children running pass him. Watching a drunken fall into a trash trough, he jerked back as several children raced around him singing some childhood song. His hand gestured pushing one of the children away, and they giggled as they broke away, running into the alley behind him. <span style='color:#811214'>“No respect for the older nowadays," </span>Archon grumbled as he walked on, hearing a rattling in his step, <span style='color:#811214'>“Hmm?" </span>he snatched a slip of paper attached to his leg: West corner of the gate lies a genie who knows all hidden vault and the maidens within…. <right> ~From the Magos of Dqemme</right> <span style='color:#811214'>“Hahah, Neth, you old artist." </span>Archon smiled as walked on to the game is afoot. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>I hope this works.. :ph34r: </td></tr></table>
Off On Her Own Nix had left the square as silently as she had arrived. This time with a pendragon following along like an obedient puppy. She'd taken the informant to a pub, and bought them a drink, in payment for their information. Little did he know she drugged his drink. An hour after drinking, the 'dragon fell asleep - hard. His skull impacted the bartop with a resounding thunk. Grinning to herself, she turns to the barkeep and speaks in low tones as she begins to hog tie the sleeping pendragon. <span style='color:#B5CEE1'>"Put him in the back, and don't let the creature escape. If he does, it'll be your life that ends. Understood?"</span> Her ice blue eyes look up, cutting through the darker ones of the barkeep. He nods. What else was there to do? He knew she'd make good on her promise. Picking up the knocked out informant he puts the pendragon in the back, next to the kegs of fermenting liquor. No one would go into a place as dark as that - the drink was not ready to be drunk, and needed to be left in the dark to set. Satisfied, Nix turns and stalks away. She would keep her promise, the bounty she recieved for this job would be shared with the informant. She hadn't killed him, but he would wake up with a vicious headache - not only for the bump he recieved when he passed out, but also due to the substance she drugged him with. She had also made sure the knots she used were escape-proof. Being quite a nimble creature herself, she knew how to tie a knot that not even an escape artist could wiggle out of. Which was fortunate, seeing as if the informant had planned to double cross her, now he would never get the chance to tell any friends, or even the hunted herself, that Nix was on the way. He had given her two of the things she requested. The ones she loved most, and the places she went most. In order to help herself, Nix begins spreading rumors of her two biggest enemies in this quest for a killing. Acting as a poor peasant, she would tell everyone she came two, that two males were off to finish a contract, meant to kill a particular thief. Each time Nix would describe the males perfectly. Scare tactics. Hullea Pyfmemd would be on the look out for males matching the descriptions. She would have friends and allies on the look out for the same males. She would be watching for Archon and Kuem. But not for Nix. She would be ready to escape at a moments notice when either male surfaced to attack her. But she wouldn't be expecting Nix. Grinning sadistically, the assassin disappears into the darkness, headed for the heart of Bhim. It would take a fool to catch a fool - and if Nix guessed right, Hullea would stay inside Bhim, as most would expect the girl to flee. Whispering to the wind, Nix's fce glows brightly, headed toward the first of three spots Hullea was said to hide out. <span style='color:#B5CEE1'>"I'm coming for you.."</span>
Kuem waited until Archon was gone before setting off himself. He needed to confer with Sampson again, the old fool always held back the juicier details until he was properly bribed, perhaps he knew of Hullea Pyfmemd's current location. Or, maybe where she was last spotted. Any leads were preferable to what he was already given. Getting Sampson alone was much easier the second time around, one threat was enough to keep the other informants in line. It really was too bad that Kuem's threats had long since lost their effect on him. Otherwise, bribes wouldn't be necessary. But, Sampson always came through for him in the end...and finding a new informant wouldn't be easy if he buried his current one. It turned out that Sampson's information carried a hefty price indeed. A 70/30 split of the prize, in Kuem's favor of course, was still far more than the usual. But, it was worthwhile. It seemed that Hullea was last spotted several days earlier near the portal gate to Aurius, but she had not crossed over. Instead, she had then led Sampsons spies on an excruciatingly long walk through the Gyakusatsu forest, and to a small cabin barely noticeable until you were almost standing directly in front of it. The spies had seen her enter, but never leave. Though many others, thieves and an assortment of con artists by their description, did come and go quite often. All added together, it gave Kuem enough to get him started. If Hullea were still in this cabin, she was a sitting duck...however she would probably not be alone. Well, what were a few more dead thieves to him. The problem was, it was several days since Sampson's spies had last reported to him, therefore it was only logical that she could have already moved on. Either way, that cabin was as good a place to start as any. Maybe luck would be on his side.
NethÂ’s note brought him to the BelungaÂ’s Gate, a small honky-tonk on a roadway outside the market where a female to a cosmetics shop greeted him on the west corner. It was when he went inside to meet her boss, a conspirator of the many hiders in Bhim. Hiders were contactors; scene artists that would come in over and completely change the surrounding of any base to hide from the lawful, using multiples form of kinesis and machina. Most trails of huge heists ran cold because of one or two of these commissions since informants could only described what the place look like before the overnight makeover. It was then that Archon learned of a very recent commission to a small area with a cabin. Apparently the land and building was reshaped and the commission had to be finished overnight, remember that the girl cursed him out to hurry. Original building was moved , but a duplicate was created in the original place with an order to rig it so that if anyone went inside, something nasty would happen, but he didnÂ’t say what since he wasnÂ’t in charge of that project. He was however in change of moving the cabin which was a distance north of the original location. A small smile couldnÂ’t help to form on his face when the guy mentioned a little about the client who accidentally let the name Hullea slipped from his lip. It also got him thinking that maybe his quarry would have more than one person at her side, after all, thieves are a lot closer to each other than any rogue. Archon gave his thanks and turn to leave until he caught a glimpse of the mirror and look at himself. Last weekÂ’s fiasco had made a note of him in Bhim and his presence is too known for them not to take caution if he prow around the forest on his own. The service to use their lavatory came to a complete surprise to the owner along with a taking sort of fur-dye in his paw from their shop. He stepped put with a dark blue overcoat while silver mane on his head-scalp. Silver bangles with on his wrist that were also covered with furry-long-wrist glove, that he used to kept them warm during cold weather, dyed with the same dark blue to hide most of the metal accept for his fingertips. The eye and the tail were the only things he couldnÂ’t hide though, but someone will have to take a good look of the right eye to recognize it while the tail would try to hide with the dark-green cloak. He forced a hard minute to bring his back spine to lay along side his back. It was be enough for him to scout the place without causing an alarm and to make a move when he wanted to make one. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Was sort of arguing with myself on what to do here, and I think what I got here was pretty lousy :(</td></tr></table>
Kuem's trip through Gyakusatsu forest lasted the better part of two days, largely due to what he meant to be an hours rest which quickly turned into twelve hours of a coma-like sleep. Any advantage his information had given him was lost now, and time was of the essence more than ever. The cabin should've been nearby, according to his instructions, but he had been wandering in circles for hours now. The main problem though was his gut, he had a gut feeling he knew what he was going to find once he reached the cabin, and he didn't like that feeling. Especially, when those feelings had a tendency to be right. Time dragged on for another long hour before Kuem finally ran, very literally, into the cabin. Sampson's claim to the cabin being well-hidden was nothing short of an understatement. With the vine-coverings and the trees surrounding it, it appeared to be just another part of the forest. Kuem settled himself by the door and listened carefully for severals minutes. Nothing within moved. Throwing caution to the wind, Kuem shouldered the door open and threw himself within the confines of the cabin. He found exactly what his gut had told him...absolutely nothing. His search of the cabin lasted only a few minutes, but it was in vain. All signs within the cabin pointed to the fact that no one had been in here in days. There was a fresh coat of dust on the floor but the only pawprints were his own. In a brief showing of frustration, he nearly tore the cabin apart. Two days were gone now, and he had nothing to show for it. Overturning a heavily-patched couch, he found the final piece of what was turning out to be a very annoying puzzle. Stairs, leading down into a small basement, followed by a long tunnel. Kuem didn't need to follow the tunnel. That would've proven pointless at this moment in time. This cabin, its middle-of-nowhere location, and now this tunnel. There were many of its kind in the world, but especially on Bhim, it was a getaway point for people being tracked, or who believed they were being tracked. By now, Hullea Pyfmemd was probably on the otherside of Bhim, or perhaps off the continent. Where ever she was, Kuem had lost his leads, he had run out of time. He had lost. All that was left was the long walk back to the black market. Growling bitterly, he made his way back out of the cabin and back into the forest. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Speaking of arguing with oneself, I wasn't too sure how I was going to make Kuem lose gracefully. Originally planned to show up late after either Archon or Nix made the kill. Finally decided on this instead. Definitely not my best work...</td></tr></table>
