Post by Mercy on May 5, 2014 15:54:33 GMT -5
The boat ride had been markedly unpleasant. As much as she had claimed that she would find the passage between Westwend and the Avilon Islands easy to handle, she had not in fact boarded a ship before in her life. Having grown up in a city that was filled with everything a young woman could possibly need – or steal – she held no desire to explore the far flung corners of the universe and as such could not ride a horse, steer a carriage nor deal with the unpleasant aspects that come with sea sickness. Fortunately, the Captain of the Blessed Maid was all too familiar with passengers unaccustomed to the rigours of sea life, and for a few coin had given her some small pastilles that she could rest under her tongue and alleviate her ragged stomach during her waking moments. While aboard the ship her time was spent either secluded in her cabin or out on the deck staring off at the sea, sharp ears filtering through the sound of wind and water to collect whatever tidbits she could glean from either fellow passengers or the crew as they went about their duties.
In exchange for the supposed kindness of offering a roof over her head once the escapade involving the Mark of Recall inkantation had reached its conclusion, Rhyldrin had given her what was reputed to be a simple task of reconnaissance: find a specific organization, watch its coming and goings and infiltrate it in order to funnel information back to him. He had impressed upon her that the organisation itself was not to be underestimated and had even seemed to be a little unsure himself .. but she discarded that notion: on some level he must have some degree of trust in her abilities because otherwise he would not set her on a task which she would surely fail, as if nothing else it would come back to haunt him later.
Dwelling upon those dark thoughts was how she first met the Avilon Islands, watching them seemingly rise out from the misty sea as the ship neared the coastline; pulling away from the rails only when the Captain announced that they would disembark shortly and could all passengers please gather their belongings.
When she stepped from ship to land she initially felt a bit uncertain as the ground appeared to be rolling beneath her feet; glancing around she noted that some of the other passengers were experiencing the same, but that it appeared to wear off after a short time. Removing a slip of parchment from the confines of her pocket she pretended to study it intently to account for her careful step as she moved away from the Blessed Maid. The hood of her cloak was predictably pulled low over her forehead to shield her eyes from direct sunlight and to hide the shining tresses of snow and her trademark black stripe from casual observers, her clothes covered for much the same reason. After some consideration, she decided that it would be in her best interests to find a room to stash her belongings and find respite as she doubted the would discover the object of her search within her first day.
She chose the Triple Moons Tavern as her base of operations, in the seedier district of Avilonia she would be able to keep her ear to the ground and find out all manner of snippets that would no doubt aid in her search, and her own appearance would blend in nicely with the locals and not attract too much attention. Stashing her gear, she inspected the rooms lock and made a few improvements before taking it upon herself to clean up after the trip. She had only been on the boat for a few days, but that was still a significant amount of time holed up like rats on a raft where clean water was a privilege and not a right, so she thoroughly enjoyed sluicing away the grime and aromas that had clung to her skin and ensure that to her delicate senses she no longer smelt like she belonged on a busy wharf.
Fresh and clean, she spent her first day merely stalking the streets of Avilonia, listening to the local gossip and getting a feel for the busy city, watching the guards with a careful eye who in turn watched her: but as she did nothing untoward they could merely spit at their own feet as she passed them in the street with a graceful twitch of her cloak and amused curl of her lips.
On the second day, she spent her time in the taproom of the Triple Moons Tavern listening to the gossip that could come only from patrons of the underground. Their lips were guarded, but after a few drinks later in the day they would be a little more careless with their information. It was here where she dropped the occasional tidbit herself, lamenting over a job gone awry where an employer had seen fit to take what she had collected for him, refused to pay her what she was owed, then disappear into the night while erasing all proof of his passing. As she poured more cheap wine she explained that she had only rumours and hearsay stating that he had a home somewhere in the Avilon Islands – which one she did not know – but if they knew someone who could help her track down this cretin and take what was rightfully hers well, she would be open to suggestions.
On the third day, she spread her tale a little wider and caught a man who knew a man who had heard about an intelligence organisation that specialised in ferreting out pieces of information or people that did not want to be found. Upon expressing interest in the organisation the man merely shrugged and claimed he did not know anything about it personally, but he could try to put her in contact with the one who did: for a price. She countered that only if the person he brought to her actually knew what he was talking about would she deign to pay him. After all, having been stung in a similar situation which in fact led to her current predicament it would behoove her to be careful.
On the fourth day she heard nothing, and spent her time listening to fishwives gossip about rising prices as she restocked her personal items at the market place.
It was on her fifth day in Avilonia that she was approached by a slender man with sharp eyes and a hawk nose who claimed to be a Benefactor of this intelligence company, having heard her tale and was interested in helping her: for a price, of course. Inviting him down to sit she regaled him with her story and gave him as much information about her former employer that she could: a short man not much taller than herself, heavy accent, fondness for wide brimmed hats, blue eyes, brown hair, and carried a walking stick emblazoned with a crest that looked like a dancing sparrow crossed with a javelin. She declared that she had last seen him in Bryony before he absconded, and the locals had been extremely tight lipped about him. When she finished, this nameless Benefactor nodded once and rose from his seat, declaring that he would look into the matter and present her with a price before delving deeper. Mercy nodded somberly, at this stage she felt that getting hold of this little weasel was perhaps more important than balancing her books, that the satisfaction of having him in her hands could outweigh the cost of hiring this company.
The Benefactor stepped away, and once the tavern door closed behind him Mercy counted to twenty before rising from her seat herself and proceeded to follow him. Even though it was still daylight there was no difficulty found in blending into the crowd as she slipped through the streets, always staying several paces behind her quarry. The noise of the throng masked any she could possibly make and so she carefully tracked him through the many twists and turns of the city streets. Whether this was normal behaviour for these Benefactors or this was just a particularly careful individual she did not know, but she noted how he often double backed down a path he had taken or walked around a store only to go back the way he had come using another street. It made it somewhat more difficult to get her bearings, but when she found him stopped outside the gates of a large building that had almost appeared out of nowhere she hung back and watched him from a position of safety.
At the gate she saw him wave his hand in an elaborate pattern before the iron creaked open, stepping through the gap made before it closed and resealed. He disappeared inside the building, and so she surmised that this must be the headquarters of the organisation he worked for .. which meant she had found her target. Pleased with herself, she turned away and worked at fixing in her mind the position of the building in relation to her temporary haven of the Triple Moons Tavern, returning to her rooms so that she could while away the time until darkness fell and she could slip out of her bedroom window garbed in something a bit more appropriate for night time work.
Clad in the leather and silk that while enhancing her physical attributes also aided her skills in subtlety and larceny, shining hair pinned tightly to her head and covered securely with a dark cloak leaving the only outward shade of her eyes as being visible: she floated down from the windowsill of the Triple Moons Tavern and melted into the shadows of Avilonia during its darkest hours. She glided along the alleyways, lanes and roads careful not to disturb the few individuals that were out and about while the slender moon hung high in the sky, eventually coming to a stop near a building that was a few blocks away from the massive structure the Benefactor had entered. Wriggling her fingers, she pressed them against the brickwork until she found tentative handholds that would allow her to scale the side of the building like a spider, limbs struck wide as she sought out and controlled the little gaps in the masonry that propelled her up onto the rooftops.
High above the streets, she took a moment to orient herself before creeping across the slatted roof until she reached the edge and gauged the distance between this building and the next: taking a few steps back and after a short burst of speed she sailed through the night air and landed with a cushioned thump on the adjacent roof. This series of acrobatics were repeated a few times until she grew closer to the Benefactors hideout, hunkering down flat against the stonework to train her eyes on the building in question. It was large and very gothic, but despite the imposing presence it somehow blended in seamlessly with the rest of Avilonia. She couldn't put her finger on it but the longer she stared at it the more she thought it was simply a government building like the others despite what she had seen earlier in the day. Large windows swept up the sides of the walls, the interior shielded from view with heavy curtains. The rooftop was decorated with spiked iron railings and the occasional gargoyle, the stonework carved with an artistic flair that spoke of vast amounts of wealth and power. Her fingers itched as she fought the urge to sail across to one of those windows and sneak her way in to find out what treasures could be found .. but no, if she mixed pleasure with business Rhyldrin would probably find fault with it.
She rested on the rooftop for approximately an hour, and after ascertaining that there were no guards of humanoid or animal proportions she rose to her feet and stretched her limbs, taking several steps back and with another burst of speed she sailed from the safety of the new roof and into the open air. The companies building was spaced further away than the others for privacy reasons, but her target this time was not the iron spiked roof but rather the tall fence that stretched along the perimeter of the building. Once she had passed the risk of impaling she slowed her progress with the levitation ability afforded to her by her bloodline, and gently drifted to the gravel just inside the courtyard. Swiftly, she crept along the expanse and pressed her body against the manor wall until she all but became one with the stonework and listened intently for any sound that she had been discovered. Finding none, she took it upon herself to stalk around the building.
In total she found eighteen windows on the ground floor alone, all but crawling through the dirt as she snuck beneath the glasswork in order to avoid detection on the slim chance someone within could peek out from behind the curtains. She had counted at least three doors, and perhaps a sign of one hidden. The main double doors at the front of the building, a smaller but still impressive door to the rear, and a very slender door off to the side that she assumed would be the servants entrance. And still, she did not hear or see any signs of life within the manor. No lights shone behind the heavy curtains, no voices could she hear whispering near the windows: and even sharp eyes could not detect any impression in the gravel beneath her feet that someone had passed through the area recently. If she had not watched the Benefactor stroll through the front gate and into the doors herself, she would think this place abandoned.
Silently she crept along the building once again, settling herself down in front of the patch of stonework her instincts told her held a hidden passageway. She was examining it with careful consideration when she heard the sound of a throat clearing behind her; it sent a jolt of electricity through her very core as all senses had failed to pick up on the presence of another person. Rapidly she spun around, a small dagger coated with black paint so as not to reflect the moonlight appearing in her hand ready to be used.
"Strictly unnecessary."
The figure was taller than her and heavily cloaked, standing perhaps five paces behind where she had crouched. Though they had appeared from nowhere she did not sense any animosity radiating from their body but she remained prepared to slash and run, form twitching slightly as they took a step forward that failed to make the gravel beneath them crunch.
"Again .. unnecessary."
From within their cloak a package was removed, and after it looked like Mercy had no intentions of stepping forward to claim it directly it was placed in the gap between them. She peered across, and was disturbed to find that her keen eyesight could not pierce the darkness found within the persons hood, that sensitive ears could not discern whether that voice was male or female only that it echoed strangely when it reached her ears.
"You will take this for Rhyldrin. You will leave immediately. You will not return."
Having said its piece the figure melted backwards into the darkness, dissipating with some trick of the light that she could not work out and left her alone. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Between the appearance and disappearance there had been no indication that anyone had been there. No scent, no sound other than a curious voice that fell directly into her ears, no shadow cast by the moon above and no features behind a shadowed cloak that could have held any race or creature beneath it. Despite the urgency she felt, it took a few minutes before she was able to unfurl from her protective stance and cross the distance to the package, staring at it for a moment as if it would explode before taking hold of it in her hands. It felt heavy, but whether it was a physical weight or the weight of her mind she could not tell, only that upon the top there was scrawled a short message.
Rhyldrin Ken'rae; Blessings from the Black Flame Ventures.
She recalled the brief look of fear upon Rhyldrin's face that night, and with an icy grip upon her heart, she ran.
In exchange for the supposed kindness of offering a roof over her head once the escapade involving the Mark of Recall inkantation had reached its conclusion, Rhyldrin had given her what was reputed to be a simple task of reconnaissance: find a specific organization, watch its coming and goings and infiltrate it in order to funnel information back to him. He had impressed upon her that the organisation itself was not to be underestimated and had even seemed to be a little unsure himself .. but she discarded that notion: on some level he must have some degree of trust in her abilities because otherwise he would not set her on a task which she would surely fail, as if nothing else it would come back to haunt him later.
Dwelling upon those dark thoughts was how she first met the Avilon Islands, watching them seemingly rise out from the misty sea as the ship neared the coastline; pulling away from the rails only when the Captain announced that they would disembark shortly and could all passengers please gather their belongings.
When she stepped from ship to land she initially felt a bit uncertain as the ground appeared to be rolling beneath her feet; glancing around she noted that some of the other passengers were experiencing the same, but that it appeared to wear off after a short time. Removing a slip of parchment from the confines of her pocket she pretended to study it intently to account for her careful step as she moved away from the Blessed Maid. The hood of her cloak was predictably pulled low over her forehead to shield her eyes from direct sunlight and to hide the shining tresses of snow and her trademark black stripe from casual observers, her clothes covered for much the same reason. After some consideration, she decided that it would be in her best interests to find a room to stash her belongings and find respite as she doubted the would discover the object of her search within her first day.
She chose the Triple Moons Tavern as her base of operations, in the seedier district of Avilonia she would be able to keep her ear to the ground and find out all manner of snippets that would no doubt aid in her search, and her own appearance would blend in nicely with the locals and not attract too much attention. Stashing her gear, she inspected the rooms lock and made a few improvements before taking it upon herself to clean up after the trip. She had only been on the boat for a few days, but that was still a significant amount of time holed up like rats on a raft where clean water was a privilege and not a right, so she thoroughly enjoyed sluicing away the grime and aromas that had clung to her skin and ensure that to her delicate senses she no longer smelt like she belonged on a busy wharf.
Fresh and clean, she spent her first day merely stalking the streets of Avilonia, listening to the local gossip and getting a feel for the busy city, watching the guards with a careful eye who in turn watched her: but as she did nothing untoward they could merely spit at their own feet as she passed them in the street with a graceful twitch of her cloak and amused curl of her lips.
On the second day, she spent her time in the taproom of the Triple Moons Tavern listening to the gossip that could come only from patrons of the underground. Their lips were guarded, but after a few drinks later in the day they would be a little more careless with their information. It was here where she dropped the occasional tidbit herself, lamenting over a job gone awry where an employer had seen fit to take what she had collected for him, refused to pay her what she was owed, then disappear into the night while erasing all proof of his passing. As she poured more cheap wine she explained that she had only rumours and hearsay stating that he had a home somewhere in the Avilon Islands – which one she did not know – but if they knew someone who could help her track down this cretin and take what was rightfully hers well, she would be open to suggestions.
On the third day, she spread her tale a little wider and caught a man who knew a man who had heard about an intelligence organisation that specialised in ferreting out pieces of information or people that did not want to be found. Upon expressing interest in the organisation the man merely shrugged and claimed he did not know anything about it personally, but he could try to put her in contact with the one who did: for a price. She countered that only if the person he brought to her actually knew what he was talking about would she deign to pay him. After all, having been stung in a similar situation which in fact led to her current predicament it would behoove her to be careful.
On the fourth day she heard nothing, and spent her time listening to fishwives gossip about rising prices as she restocked her personal items at the market place.
It was on her fifth day in Avilonia that she was approached by a slender man with sharp eyes and a hawk nose who claimed to be a Benefactor of this intelligence company, having heard her tale and was interested in helping her: for a price, of course. Inviting him down to sit she regaled him with her story and gave him as much information about her former employer that she could: a short man not much taller than herself, heavy accent, fondness for wide brimmed hats, blue eyes, brown hair, and carried a walking stick emblazoned with a crest that looked like a dancing sparrow crossed with a javelin. She declared that she had last seen him in Bryony before he absconded, and the locals had been extremely tight lipped about him. When she finished, this nameless Benefactor nodded once and rose from his seat, declaring that he would look into the matter and present her with a price before delving deeper. Mercy nodded somberly, at this stage she felt that getting hold of this little weasel was perhaps more important than balancing her books, that the satisfaction of having him in her hands could outweigh the cost of hiring this company.
The Benefactor stepped away, and once the tavern door closed behind him Mercy counted to twenty before rising from her seat herself and proceeded to follow him. Even though it was still daylight there was no difficulty found in blending into the crowd as she slipped through the streets, always staying several paces behind her quarry. The noise of the throng masked any she could possibly make and so she carefully tracked him through the many twists and turns of the city streets. Whether this was normal behaviour for these Benefactors or this was just a particularly careful individual she did not know, but she noted how he often double backed down a path he had taken or walked around a store only to go back the way he had come using another street. It made it somewhat more difficult to get her bearings, but when she found him stopped outside the gates of a large building that had almost appeared out of nowhere she hung back and watched him from a position of safety.
At the gate she saw him wave his hand in an elaborate pattern before the iron creaked open, stepping through the gap made before it closed and resealed. He disappeared inside the building, and so she surmised that this must be the headquarters of the organisation he worked for .. which meant she had found her target. Pleased with herself, she turned away and worked at fixing in her mind the position of the building in relation to her temporary haven of the Triple Moons Tavern, returning to her rooms so that she could while away the time until darkness fell and she could slip out of her bedroom window garbed in something a bit more appropriate for night time work.
Clad in the leather and silk that while enhancing her physical attributes also aided her skills in subtlety and larceny, shining hair pinned tightly to her head and covered securely with a dark cloak leaving the only outward shade of her eyes as being visible: she floated down from the windowsill of the Triple Moons Tavern and melted into the shadows of Avilonia during its darkest hours. She glided along the alleyways, lanes and roads careful not to disturb the few individuals that were out and about while the slender moon hung high in the sky, eventually coming to a stop near a building that was a few blocks away from the massive structure the Benefactor had entered. Wriggling her fingers, she pressed them against the brickwork until she found tentative handholds that would allow her to scale the side of the building like a spider, limbs struck wide as she sought out and controlled the little gaps in the masonry that propelled her up onto the rooftops.
High above the streets, she took a moment to orient herself before creeping across the slatted roof until she reached the edge and gauged the distance between this building and the next: taking a few steps back and after a short burst of speed she sailed through the night air and landed with a cushioned thump on the adjacent roof. This series of acrobatics were repeated a few times until she grew closer to the Benefactors hideout, hunkering down flat against the stonework to train her eyes on the building in question. It was large and very gothic, but despite the imposing presence it somehow blended in seamlessly with the rest of Avilonia. She couldn't put her finger on it but the longer she stared at it the more she thought it was simply a government building like the others despite what she had seen earlier in the day. Large windows swept up the sides of the walls, the interior shielded from view with heavy curtains. The rooftop was decorated with spiked iron railings and the occasional gargoyle, the stonework carved with an artistic flair that spoke of vast amounts of wealth and power. Her fingers itched as she fought the urge to sail across to one of those windows and sneak her way in to find out what treasures could be found .. but no, if she mixed pleasure with business Rhyldrin would probably find fault with it.
She rested on the rooftop for approximately an hour, and after ascertaining that there were no guards of humanoid or animal proportions she rose to her feet and stretched her limbs, taking several steps back and with another burst of speed she sailed from the safety of the new roof and into the open air. The companies building was spaced further away than the others for privacy reasons, but her target this time was not the iron spiked roof but rather the tall fence that stretched along the perimeter of the building. Once she had passed the risk of impaling she slowed her progress with the levitation ability afforded to her by her bloodline, and gently drifted to the gravel just inside the courtyard. Swiftly, she crept along the expanse and pressed her body against the manor wall until she all but became one with the stonework and listened intently for any sound that she had been discovered. Finding none, she took it upon herself to stalk around the building.
In total she found eighteen windows on the ground floor alone, all but crawling through the dirt as she snuck beneath the glasswork in order to avoid detection on the slim chance someone within could peek out from behind the curtains. She had counted at least three doors, and perhaps a sign of one hidden. The main double doors at the front of the building, a smaller but still impressive door to the rear, and a very slender door off to the side that she assumed would be the servants entrance. And still, she did not hear or see any signs of life within the manor. No lights shone behind the heavy curtains, no voices could she hear whispering near the windows: and even sharp eyes could not detect any impression in the gravel beneath her feet that someone had passed through the area recently. If she had not watched the Benefactor stroll through the front gate and into the doors herself, she would think this place abandoned.
Silently she crept along the building once again, settling herself down in front of the patch of stonework her instincts told her held a hidden passageway. She was examining it with careful consideration when she heard the sound of a throat clearing behind her; it sent a jolt of electricity through her very core as all senses had failed to pick up on the presence of another person. Rapidly she spun around, a small dagger coated with black paint so as not to reflect the moonlight appearing in her hand ready to be used.
"Strictly unnecessary."
The figure was taller than her and heavily cloaked, standing perhaps five paces behind where she had crouched. Though they had appeared from nowhere she did not sense any animosity radiating from their body but she remained prepared to slash and run, form twitching slightly as they took a step forward that failed to make the gravel beneath them crunch.
"Again .. unnecessary."
From within their cloak a package was removed, and after it looked like Mercy had no intentions of stepping forward to claim it directly it was placed in the gap between them. She peered across, and was disturbed to find that her keen eyesight could not pierce the darkness found within the persons hood, that sensitive ears could not discern whether that voice was male or female only that it echoed strangely when it reached her ears.
"You will take this for Rhyldrin. You will leave immediately. You will not return."
Having said its piece the figure melted backwards into the darkness, dissipating with some trick of the light that she could not work out and left her alone. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Between the appearance and disappearance there had been no indication that anyone had been there. No scent, no sound other than a curious voice that fell directly into her ears, no shadow cast by the moon above and no features behind a shadowed cloak that could have held any race or creature beneath it. Despite the urgency she felt, it took a few minutes before she was able to unfurl from her protective stance and cross the distance to the package, staring at it for a moment as if it would explode before taking hold of it in her hands. It felt heavy, but whether it was a physical weight or the weight of her mind she could not tell, only that upon the top there was scrawled a short message.
Rhyldrin Ken'rae; Blessings from the Black Flame Ventures.
She recalled the brief look of fear upon Rhyldrin's face that night, and with an icy grip upon her heart, she ran.
