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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:00:07 GMT 8
Shyann: The myriad of sounds were lost along the sea of unfamiliar faces as the slender form exited the warm tavern air; hazel eyes peering into the darkness beyond the door, gliding slowly up to gaze at the moon lit sky as another step was taken. Such a lovely night, she would muse, nodding to none as eyes would leave their perch upon the unreachable blue black dome. A loud jeering resounded, a rush of warm stale are approaches her stationary form as a drunkard was ushered out, none too kindly by the evil looking bouncer. A huff would leave crimson lips; a wisp of warm vapor visible in the cold air. How she detest these smoked filled establishment, littered by rowdy characters sprouting from all kinds of race.
Eyes would then wander from one end of the street to the other; pale, dainty fingers would pat absently at the hidden pocket on her left hip, as if to assured herself of its where about. Garbed in a worn, hooded cloak, she looked the average traveler and some would even mistake her small form as a beggar. A smile would kiss her cold lips. That was the plan. To be rid of unwanted attention to her existence in this town. For she was on a delivery run; the content of the small box was well worth the cost of her life. Or so the Pasha told her in his diminutive, raspy voice. A shrug ensued as she took the step down from the pavement. She is a best in the trade. Else he would not have seeked her out. The smile continued to reside as she pulled the cowl lower over flawless features.
Zhi the Merciless: -Night. It had always been his favorite since his time as a child. It offered a different beauty than day, a beauty far more delicate...far more desireable. Perhaps it was the sinister things that came during the night that intrigued him most, those predators that hunted when the curtain of darkness had fallen. The mind would have drifted to a time when he was designated to protect against such predators. Thoughts of cheers and congratulations would soon meld into screams and cries. How the times changed. This particular night, he was the hunter again in search of a rare gem. A gem he knew would be here-Aratul swore it to be, for the hunter would not have wasted his time. Yet, the price had been set too high for even he to refuse. He had been told to look out for a woman, search for she who seemed too inconspicious, search for she who seemed too withdrawn.
The day had been spent in vain, for such a search was not easily completed. Yet, as the curtain of night had fallen and he grew calmer, his job became easier....and he had found his target. A gentle pat against hip, an appearance that none would care for couped with an unchecked smile would seem significant enough. And if she wasn't the one, his search could continue. There would be one less distraction. He was not far from the tavern she had exited, having stood off towards her left in an alley. For this was towns bustling center and he knew his mark would have to appear. The conscience would lead him to believe it was her, but he had been wrong before. However, such mistakes were not closely for himself, save for having the blood of an innocent upon his hand. Yet, remorse was one of the many things he had lost over time
Not a movement was made however, for he would continue to stand in darkness. A black cloak adorned his form, it's hood having been pulled down to hide his face. The cloak did well to cover his form as if he had been enveloped in shadow itself. But, it was those things about his person that were much more useful when unseen. He simply waited for her to continue upon her path, a path that he believed would lead her eternal night.-
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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:04:17 GMT 8
Shyann: The silent rustle of material against the current of wind brought to her attention by the tingling of auras disturbed. Though feet continued with their march, chin lowered to present a slight hunched to the shoulders; ears would continue to perk, catching every sound, every shift in the invisible strands of the cold, evening breeze. Lewd banters of drunkards and sultry wenches alike would permeate the air every now and then, but the sound of the gently breeze grew clearly within her reverie. Slender arms would fold within the cloak, pressing hard against firm mounds as fingers traced the hilt of the dagger.
A spell of old was uttered, summoning agility, thought naught lips moved in its wake but a quiet echo within her mind. She is after all a witch; a true blooded sorceress from a long forgotten race. She heaves a breath, bracing for a barrage of powerful auras as she turned the corner. There was something. Or someone in the vicinity. The mana pattern was potent. More so than the normal kinds she has ever come across since her arrival in this town. Could it be that a demon is lurking nearby to prey on her petite form? A shadow of a smile would dare to tug at the corners of luscious lips. She could deal with a demon or two. But the smile was short lived as another wave of aura assails her sense. Whatever it is, tis of human make. At least the auras had suggested it.
Shoulders were squared as chin rose to eye the darkness beyond. There was no way out of this zone but to go through the darkened alley. Not unless she wishes to risk the Night Guards stopping and searching her should she take the main road out to the main town blocks. No, she could not risk that. Even if she could take on as many as two guards, she doubts more will not be far to come to their aid. No, she must brave this eerie swirl of auras and proceed down the alley to get back to her temporary abode. Faltered steps resume their rhythm, taking hooded form into the enveloping darkness of the alley.
Zhi the Merciless: A gentle breeze sent the hood of the cloak slightly left and it was to that very direction he shifted. She was coming. Perhaps fear of the main guards had driven her to forge towards his darkness...perhaps fate. A curse was muttered at the thought of fate, eyes flickering beneath the hood. He had no need for fate's apologetic summons. For fate had taken her...a shake of his head was offered as he stepped into the back of a doorway, form shifting to press against wood. Not a creak was offered though he pressed firmly against the wood. An ancient war-cry began to resound with the mind
Yet, a war-cry silenced. He was no longer one of them. They were in partial blame for her disappearance. His right hand would slip towards the right hip, fingers grasping the black hilt of a sword. He was in no rush as she approached, mind planning on letting her take a step, perhaps two before he would reveal himself. Wrongly so or not, he believed her death would come from his hands. Another life for another tear.
Shyann: The ancient music of drum beating echoes between the tresses of her mind. Or is it her heart that is beating a thunderous encore in her ears? Shyann was too preoccupied with reading the mana flow to even notice the difference. Steps were taken, slow and calculated. Every movement taking her deeper into the alley and further into the belly of the Unknown. Fear is no longer an option, she had forsaken the emotion from the moment she was thrown in to the brig of the wretched ship she was carried off with. Away from her homeland, her people, her love. A familiar pierce of pain courses through her tormented heart. Residing once again with the memory of his touch. And his voice. Aye, those are the only things that she could recall from the dark recesses of her past. For the life of her she could not see his face.
Not anymore. All she has is the tone of his voice and that touch; that last warm embrace. The memory that had kept her sane in her solitary confinements during the long journey. She shook visibly, forcing her mind to release the partial memory and to return back to the present. There was imminent danger waiting for her behind one of the shallow corners. And she will be damned if she would let this thing, this beast, this entity, get the best of her. She will fight tooth and nail to stay alive and to deliver this package. Wait?! Her mind would chide, tugging at her consciousness. Could it be that she is being watched by would be thief? The auras present darkness of the heart lent by a thieving soul. But why did it bring the memory of Zhifeng? She could not understand nor did she have time to dwell. She will have to brush it away for now. Arms would press tighter, the spell was complete. She would move as far as a frightened cat if needs be. She is now ready.
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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:12:18 GMT 8
Zhi the Merciless: -She had begun to slow in her advance as seen by eyes from beneath the hood's brim. Was she beginning to grow fearful? A visible shake, yet he was unable to detect a large amount of fear. Nearer she drew to the senses delight, for he was closer. Closer to another moment in which he felt free of fate's curse. His own lips would curl into an unchecked smile as she had come close enough. Yet, something felt displaced. A pang of familiarity hit a heart of ice as he watched her. Something of her seemed foreign, yet comforting. Almost as if…Was it?
No...it could not be her, not here, not now. Of that, he was sure. For he would have been sure had it have been her. The air would be cut as the sword was drawn and his form moved from shadow...as shadow it seemed. Surprise was his momentary ally in an attempt to quickly slay the woman as he had slain so many others. Held lightly within the right hand, the dark steel was brought down in a vicious arc towards her back. This was no time for the mind to drift to thoughts of her. He had a gem to collect.-
Shyann: There was a sudden silence as time seems to stand still. There was a flash; the origin unknown for there was no evidence of stormy clouds up in the starless canopy. Footfalls faltered as she reaches the desired location, cowl would leave midnight tresses as she turned swiftly, to quick for the eye to catch the simple pivoting movement. Orbs of hazel hue glistened as she stared up at her would be assailant; the lid widening as they caught the brilliant shimmer of light bouncing from the metallic surface of his weapon. A gasp ensued as she arches her back just at the tip slices down, barely an inch from her head, slicing a few renegade strands. Her right foot shoots backward to absorb the impact of her weight against her spine. Her right arm came away from the flowing cloak; fingers clutching the dagger horizontally over her chest, catching the tip of her assailant long bladed weapon. Metals screamed as they connect. It was wise to have used the agility spell.
Now if only her strength would hold. Eyes widen, glaring fearlessly into the darkness, capturing the visage of her assailant. A silent gasp ensued for she was faced with an emotionless yet perfect visage of a man. A visage that boast of royalty. Not the usual disfigured or gnarled faces of common thieves. The bolts of reasons turned within her mind. This is no mere thiefling. An assassin from the looks of him. Here to claim the package without consent for its owner. Shyann would snarl quietly, pushing the dagger forth against the sword. “Can’t a poor traveler pass safely anywhere in this forsaken realm without being pounced by thieving lot? I carry nothing of use to you, thief. A few silver coins is all that I have.” She could still hear the thunderous beating of her heart. But if was not from fear. It was something else that she could not decipher.
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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:15:44 GMT 8
Shyann: As he moved away, her arm holding the dagger would recoil, slipping under the cloak to return the blade to its perch upon the satin belt. And as fingers moved away, a twine was pulled, depositing a tiny orb onto her right palm. Lips moved as she begins a chant; a spell of old to immobilize her opponent if needed. Chin would rise defiantly, having lost obscurity that was provided by the cowl, in the sudden movement. She watches him under lowered lashes, calculating his immaculate movement as he twirled the blade in a subtle threatening fashion. He was going in for the kill. She knew of his cold intention even before his lips moved to validate her suspicion. The soft syllables took her breath away for a moment; beautiful features etching in wonder.
There was a distinct accent in his drawl. A strange yet familiar manipulation of syllables. No! I will not be distracted again. She screams inwardly, curling fingers into fists as she raised them to chest level. Well, she was not about to let him get away with murder; let alone the package that seemed to be much more than it is worth. Well, the Pasha did mention that it was far too precious than her own life. But that was Pasha Bellani; a heartless, greedy Lord that sees women as trinkets to be adorn according to occasion. If not for the successful runs she did for his guilt, she would never have been commissioned by other guilds. “You talk of killing even when you succeed in retrieving whatever it is you desire. That is not fair, thief.” She would offer, the ancient slur was no longer present in her voice, for she had no recollection of the mother tongue of her people. But soft and melodious was her own that would match his cold one.
Zhi the Merciless:-Another smile would contort his visage as he moved closer towards her. Unseen eyes would darken, once more clouded by a pain that drove him to the brink of insanity. "You have no understanding of what it means to be unfaired," he stated cooly, sword held cautiously in hand. He wanted to strike, yet that feeling continued to gnaw at his thoughts. He was a trained assassin, a warrior of an ancient land, he knew better than to be ousted by feelings.
The head shook slightly as he stared towards her-making sure to watch her shifty hands. He did not trust the folds of clothes she wore, knowing that if she had been carrying something of such value...she was much more than a simple messenger. Even moreso would be the fact that he was the one sent after such an item. The price for his hand was high and Aratul's pockets were not limitless. But even he offered to pay twice the wage if the item was brought back. The effects of magics upon him would have been lessened, though not utterly useless because of the cloak he wore. Imbued with resistances to the elemental energies, the black cloak helped in his assassination of mages and witches alike. But he knew better than to let time go by for her to prepare such trickery.-<cont> “I am no thief however...a simple retreiver of bounties." A gentle nod of his head was given before the form lunged forward again, the sword being jabbed forward towards her stomach.-
Shyann: Bounty commissioned by unscrupulous quarters, if his cold, uncaring demeanor was any indication of his choice of employers. Her mind would muse. Hazel eyes would keep track of his every movement, noting the nimble steps as he took a few more steps forth to where she stood unmoving. As his arm move, her eyes would dart to it, iris widening as they trace the intricate carving upon the long blade in his hand, a runic pattern of sorts. Strangely the designs seem familiar. As he draws closer to close the gap between them, the pounding in her ears would return. “Unfairness is not uncommon, thief. I have had my share in this life” She would offer quietly, fists would remain close; the marble size bomb nestled comfortably within her palm. “What makes you think that I am carrying anything at all? I carry nothing of value for I am here on errand. Now leave me to my business.”
She knew it was futile to negotiate but she had to try. Her right fist would leave its station, fingers uncurling to reach for her throat, pulling the cord that would tie the cloak together. As he lunged forth with blade rushing in to gut narrow waist, she steps to the right, upper body swinging away; the loosened cloak cascades away to reveal petite form. Fingers would reach for the hilt of her slim blade which protrudes from her left shoulder while her left arm swings low, slamming his blade, releasing the orb. A loud bang would be heard, accompanied with a thick puff of smoke. Her slim blade came up to chest level in a defense pose as she found her footing, standing a least two feet from his reach to the right; breaths coming in shallow by now.
Zhi the Merciless: -His sword would have been parried, yet something would be let off in his face. A smoke would rise as muscles began to tighten, movement became difficult. A growl would be emitted from him as he cursed his bad judgement. He had taken too long as now he had been affected by some sort of spell. As the smoke cleared, the hood of his cloak would be unable to mask a gaze of anger. He had always disliked magic, ever since her disappearance. Eyes could not help but notice the gentle curves of her frame that seemed to only complete a look of beauty. He blinked at the thought, head turning away from her-for the word had not crossed his mind in a few centuries.
Beauty. She had been his beauty. His sunset, his moonlight, his rose...dashed by fate. He heard her words, yet did not respond to them immediately as he simply bided his time. For his mobility had become limited, though the paralysis of the smoke did not have it's full effect upon him. "Well, it is for me to decide if you carry anything of value." His left hand would clench and unclench as if to help in the warding off of her magics, but she had him for the moment-"And I have no need for people skills. My sword conveys enough messages...don't you agree?"-
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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:18:53 GMT 8
Shyann: She had him there, immobilized for the moment, though not completely. Somehow it came not as a surprise. He was exuding auras of ancient make. Alien to her senses yet something was familiar. Too familiar. She lowers the katana as his arms moved slowly; hazel eyes promptly follow the movement of muscles rippling underneath the cloth of his apparel. Ah! Perhaps the rich clothe upon his back was imbued by magic repellant spell? Thus lending him enough power to move otherwise limbs will turn solid. At least for a couple of hours. She could drive the katana into him, killing him instantly or carve his back so he will bleed slowly to death. But Shyann was no murderer. His actions warrant naught Death. At least not yet. No harm has been done though the intention as apparent.
And she would prefer to end this conflict peacefully. A true wiccan, she was. Inclined towards peace than chaos; though chaos latches onto her presence like an unwanted wart. "You are in no position to demand anything, thief." She replied in her quiet tone, willing feet to move back a couple more steps as he threw that angst filled glare at her. Satisfied that he will not be making any immediate attack, she lowers her blade though keeping it in her palm. "I will be on my way. Do not attempt to follow me. I do not wish to kill or die this night". She continues though she remains where she was, peering into the cowl. Curiosity beckons. If anything, she wishes to look into the eyes of her nemesis. <e>
Zhi the Merciless-As she had taken steps back, he felt somewhat at ease. The dislike for battle seemed evident in hazel eyes that reminded him of his past. At least she would not push his physical limitations...not yet it appeared. The constant referral as a thief had grown to be an irritant however. Such a word riled him, created a stir within the dark heart of fury. He was more than a mere thief. He was known for much more than taking items from others. The heated gaze would not let up as his hand continued to clench -and release itself. He could feel the effects of her magic already wearing off, but showed little sign of such. He would continue to feign as if a great amount of energy was used in each of his movements.
The muscles of slender arms became visible as the left hand moved to bring a closed fist against his chest. "It is not your choice to die or kill this night," he responded slowly. A shuffling step was taken forward, leg seeming to have to put forth a great deal of effort. "I will inform you now. You may escape me for now, but I will find you again. Even if by some stroke of luck you get rid of what it is I desire from you, I will still come for you. My vengeance has no end, witch”.
The effects of her magic had practically dissipated, though he continued to play as if it had held him. In vain, he wanted her to act irrational, perhaps come in for the kill in order to make sure he would not come for her again. For every word he spoke was true, he wouldn't stop until her head rested upon the street, disengaged from her body. "Now that if you run, the Merciless will hunt you and take everything you have from you...anyone and anything that you ever cared would share the same fate as you. It is your decision...you die tonight or let generations of your family and friends die from this night forth.-
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Post by Shyann on Jun 14, 2006 20:19:57 GMT 8
Shyann: She stood there, transfixed, for God knows how long. Never would she have imagined that words from a mere stranger would touch her so profoundly; though not in the best of manner. And it wasn’t the blatant warning about losing her life but the mention of her kin that had sparked the long surpressed rage. Her long lost family. A growl ensued, cursing him for turning the bolts of that secret chamber within her mind. Those lost memories. She blinks back the angry tears; shaking her head ruefully. She could not see their faces. Only the screams of death and eventual loneliness would flood her conscious thought. Not even his face. Him that she longed to find. Whose warm embrace still haunts her dreams.
Eyes would narrow dangerously as grip becomes tight around the cylindrical hilt, lips pursing into a thin line. “I do not fear you, Thief. Nor will I run from you should you choose to pursue me.” She spat the reply; arm settling at her side, pointing the katana to the ground. “I will finish my errand and will be out of this area come morning.” She knew then, as he struggles forth, that the effect of the spell was waning, if not gone. Another bout of spell was summoned; an obscurity spell that she knew would not work too well due to lack of time. She moved further up the alley, nimble feet carrying petite form backward though keeping her eyes fixed on his advancing form. She pauses for a moment; collecting her wits about and exhaling heavily. “And if you do find my family, please make it a point to seek me.
For I am looking for traces of their existence”. She continued. “Per fas et nefas; obscurium!” The words would echo and time would seem to stop for a second before a ripple was felt as the momentum return and the cycle surged forth. She rounded the far corners; having bought a few moment of time. Footsteps echoed as she took her leave, letting tears fall to form rivers on her flawless cheeks. The steps soon receded to a walk, energy level dropping steadily. It was a heavy price to pay for that powerful spell. Now she will have to deliver the package tonight.
Zhi the -A growl accompanied with the shaking of her head would bring a smile across his face. He had affected her. Now he knew which cord to strike in order to further push her. Yet it seemed she knew his as well. A once prominent warrior now called a mere thief. Anger bubbled within him, yet under the cover of the hood, it was hardly seen. He would have rebegun his menacing approach towards her, sword held cautiously within the right hand as she spoke her words of hostility. "Then I have until then to hunt you," he retorted, form closing the amount of distance between the two-
Something of her intrigued him, almost made him feel sorry of his believed outcome. It was the words of her spell that halted him, moments before the spell would actually take in effect. Words he had before from a time that had passed long ago. Words spoken from a voice that had helped him in his training against such. Words spoken by a voice that he searched for, words spoken from the voice of his heart. How could....Thoughts woud momentarily freeze as did the body as the spell took it's place.-
And she would be off, disappearing about a corner that the eye could barely catch as time caught up to itself. The sound of footfalls would come to his ears, yet he would not chase after her. No...he needed time to recuperate before lips betrayed lifelong intentions. Aratul would simply have to be disappointed in him, a mark would have to stain a record of perfection. He himself would turn to go, heading back out of the town. His sword would be sheathed, head still bowed. He knew then that he would make sure to see this woman again. For this witch held a link to his past...of that he was sure.-
And she would be off, disappearing about a corner that the eye could barely catch as time caught up to itself. The sound of footfalls would come to his ears, yet he would not chase after her. No...he needed time to recuperate before lips betrayed lifelong intentions. Aratul would simply have to be disappointed in him, a mark would have to stain a record of perfection. He himself would turn to go, heading back out of the town. His sword would be sheathed, head still bowed. He knew then that he would make sure to see this woman again. For this witch held a link to his past...of that he was sure.-
<End of Episode>
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