Time. Time was all he had to pass while he awaited the call of Dirson. When nothing came to mind, he left the place he was assigned to and formed a contract with an unknown contractor. Because of that, he found himself deep within the heart of the slums, standing on top a random building with his broad arms crossed before his chest while his eyes scanned the length of the area. At this point in time, he was simply awaiting the time for the light to be drowned out by black. And the time between was rather slow. Why did he arrive upon the scene with more than a few hours to spare? Perhaps the previous events with he and Dirson threw him off?

He shook his head and then cleared his throat. He eventually muttered, "I need to get my head back in the game. This is not the time to let my thoughts linger on the past. Focus. Focus." Just then, he closed his eyes for a second and then sucked in a deep breath of air, which helped him regain whatever composure he could of himself. His head shook again and he turned away from the edge of the building, which caused his mane to flow around him while he dropped his hands to his armored sides and tsk'd softly to himself. In the next moment, he moved down the side of the building and then made his way to the ground with a few jumps and slides. Once his feet touched the ground, he looked around the area and glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't followed. After all, he did stick out with the broad 'black' blade that sat on the cross of his back and in the rest its sheath. So long as he was not forced to draw it, he should be able to keep himself as The Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, to himself.

Then, he noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, the one who he was hired to kill. His gaze lingered for a moment, and he raised his brow in question, but then held a blank expression moments after that. His best bet was not to draw attention to himself, not that it mattered. With all of the people here, anyone could be a target, and anyone could be a potential candidate for killing, which meant he had nothing to worry about. Then is when he released a deep breath and regained his senses. Then, his gaze raised to the sky and he allowed it to linger for a while, but made sure to keep his target within the range of his 'enhanced' hearing. When the man grew in distance, he lowered his gaze from the sky and pointed it towards the back of his target. Then he shifted and began to weave through the crowd with slow, timed steps, so that he could see what it was the man before him did during the day. Perhaps it was best for him to pursue the man at a distance and now, verses trying to find him later. Not only that, but it would be best for him to get to know the one he's about to kill.

Tightening the last belt upon her attire, Kuerina gazed into the murky depths of the old mirror she kept within her small hovel. Her ebony-colored locks cascaded about her form, framing her pale face like a lover's caress, her irises the color of dried blood staring back at her. Her eyes were filled with a darkness, a darkness that one who lived within the slums grew accustomed to. It helped her become the hunter she was today, a loyal follower of Qweyvtul. And what a loyal follower she was, for she was now preparing herself for the bidding of her Master. 

Finally breaking her gaze from the mirror, the small woman slipped her quiver upon her back, fingers smoothing over the dark colored wood of her beloved bow. Having the weapon near her person made her feel comfortable, at ease. It made what she was about to do easier to deal with. Finally placing the bow upon her back, a ruffling of feathers sounded within the room, Kuerina's head pivoting to the source of the noise. On a perch sat the two toned crow, his beady eyes watching the movements of his mistress like he had spotted a treasure. Pursing her lips, Kuerina gave a sharp whistle, her arm rising in tandem as the bird gave a flap of his wings and left his perch for the one his master outstretched. 

The young adult stretched out her index finger of her left arm, stroking the head of the bird as he crooned in his raspy call, "It is almost dusk, Kråke. Time for us to head out for our quarry."

Kuerina moved to the exit of her small room, Kråke taking flight once she opened the door towards the outside. He would be her eyes, helping her to keep eyes upon the target she was instructed to take out this particular night. After shutting and locking the door to her hovel, like it would do much to keep out unwanted visitors, Kuerina quickly made her way down an alley way before climbing up onto the roofs, helping to keep her obscured from the populous. Her bow would give her intentions away too soon in this part of town. 

A ways ahead, Kråke circled lazily through the air, waiting for Kuerina to reach the area he circled. There would be their target.

The Descendant of Obscurity moved after the male before him. His large frame weaved through the crowds of people with ease. Left and right he moved, a pattern he did not pick up on right away. In fact, it wasn't until he noticed the hairs on his neck stand up that he realized he was lost to his thoughts and shook his head. He needed to get his stuff in order... perhaps he accepted the job to suddenly? Regardless, it was too late to back out, or was it? Then a thought popped into the back of his mouth, and his lips parted to release the single word he adored, "Coin." The spoken word was enough for him to form a smirk onto those dark lips of his. Then he raised his left hand to his back and soon brushed his armored digits along the features of his well-defined face. 

Eventually, he only followed the male with the movement of his blue-green globes. This allowed him to keep distance between both the target and the target's 'guards,' should he (The Mercenary) decide to lose himself within his thoughts once more. When he was certain of the distance between himself and the male, he glanced over his shoulder and looked behind him yet again, a precaution one had to take to make sure they were not the ones being attacked. Of course, it would seem, the one he was after had not been practiced in the art. That sucked for the target, and only promised the Mercenary an easy kill. A shame, really, but it was something that could not be helped. Perhaps it was good that his target had guards upon his flanks? He then said, in the back of his mind, "Perhaps this is the best. Something easy to start with... then I'll dive back in and work my way to the top. Nothing will stop me. But first, I need to get past this situation. Easy enough... take out the guards and then deal with the man. He'll be too easy on his own... but again, that can't be helped. Nevertheless, things will go smoothly and I'm sure to get paid in full, even if it is a few gold. A few is more than none, I suppose." Then he parted his lips and released a soft yawn.

Was it about that time already? He looked towards the sky and noticed the change. Oh, how time had passed thus far! It was starting to pick up, and that only meant one thing: the time for death and making money would be upon the man and his victims soon! He raised both hands and soon moved the armored palms against one another as if he were searching for some form of warmth. By the time his hands dropped, his target was leaving his sights, and he smiled. The hunt was about to start, and there was still time for him to see what kind of man this 'target' was. He heard things about this individual, and the trade he was involved in. But, to the Descendant of Obscurity, witnessing something was far more interesting than hearing such words through the mouth of another party. He moved forward with slow, but wide steps, and eventually dropped his hands to his sides. The 'moving-stance' he took was one that allowed him to give the impression of 'harmlessness' while his true motive remained hidden within the back of his mind. Or so, he would hope it was.

Besides that, to those looking in on him, his hands would be far from the reach of his weapon; a thought one would come to regret, should they decide to stand in battle against the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword. His features eventually hardened when he gained control over his emotions, and he soon covered the distance between himself and the man. When he reached the turn, he kept his head faced forward and turned his eyes, which were hidden behind the strands of his white-blonde mane, and stared down the dark pathway before him. He didn't know where the man was going, but he could only assume--based on the way the male moved down the center of the pathway--he was going to be heading in a straight direction, or he would have drifted to the side he was sure to turn? The Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, continued on a straight path, and then took the next turn he could find. This would lead him down a dark pathway of his own. And, once he reached one that led to the path his target had taken, he slowly made his way towards it and glanced in the left direction. And, as he assumed, the male was still moving down the path. The Mercenary watched the motions for a bit, and then shifted to follow down the path. Pursuing would prove to be a bit of a challenge, for there were fewer people here, and many hiding spots were not provided. This meant he'd have to travel carefully. However, since the male never really looked over his shoulder, the Descendant of Obscurity was not too worried, for it was clear the target placed too much of his hope into the protection of those guards.

As the piebald avian landed upon an overhanging roof of the alley the target occupied, a low croak would sound from its beak. His head tilted to the side, watching the traveling party with a single eye, continuing to mark the location of the Mark until Kuerina arrived. It wouldn't be too long until she did, just a few blocks away.

---

Kuerina leaped over the short distance between shacks and hovels, her deep crimson cloak pinned closed around her upper body while the lower half rippled behind her in the winter air. Her pace slowed once she came thirty paces from her crow pet, slipping the bow and a single arrow from her quiver. Kråke gave another caw before flyling further down the way and circling, a carrion bird ready for a meal he knew was to be served soon. It left Kuerina in a grim frame of thought as she briefly watched the bird, nocking the arrow she held in her left hand. She crouched low to the roof, right digits grasping upon the shaft of the arrow tightly has her other hand rose to clasp about the pendant about her neck. Her lips formed the silent prayer to Qweyvtul, asking for the God of Death to grant her the power to aim true and remain hidden from sight. Each time she prayed, she remembered the first time she felt the hand of the Patron of the Final Death, the fear of her life nearing its end consuming her. Midway through her prayer, she closed her eyes, breathing slowing ever so slightly before she felt the suffocating shadows wrap about her body, concealing her form in a wave of a roiling dark mass. 

Nearing the end of her tribute towards her chosen Master, Kuerina's dark eyes snapped open, focusing upon the man she was sent to eliminate and prevent to return in the cycle of rebirth. He would be added to the souls that now helped shroud her, turned her form into the shadows. Rising ever so slightly from her crouch, the assassin crept slowly on soft feet, like a saber toothed feline of the wilds stalking the goats it preyed upon. 

Her eyes suddenly picked up on another figure, a monster of a man (all were to her to be honest with her small form) with ivory tresses cascading behind him. Curiosity rose within her as she continued to watch his movements before coming to the conclusion that he had business with the party further ahead. Her lips twisted into a grimace, more targets she would have to deal with than what was intended. 

Something was wrong, but the Descendant of Obscurity couldn't put his finger on it. What was this feeling that made the hairs of his arms raise in question? What was this feeling that told him to leave this target be? Perhaps it was the fear telling him he shouldn't have left his designated place. Perhaps it was fear that told him he was the target and this was a trap? Just then, his blue-green globes shifted about his person; they snapped to the left, and then to the right before he clenched his jaws against one another and then drew in a deep breath of air to calm himself. If he was to be the one who was targeted, he'd go out on his own terms, no? Of course not. He wasn't going to be killed by any of the low-lives of this area. He was of a damn noble family! He rolled his shoulders forward and then relaxed his shoulders. At this point in time, he decided he would have to remain calm, so that none knew he was onto them.

But first, he had business to take care of. Realizing this, he sucked in a deep breath of air and began to advance closer to the group. Of course, he would have to take out the guards as quickly as possible, but that would mean he'd reveal himself to the target, and he (the Mercenary) did not feel like running at this time, not that he would have a chance to, anyway. The moment he began to close the distance from forty feet, to ten feet, the target suddenly took a turn and vanished into a building which seemed to be abandoned. The Mercenary narrowed his gaze and then shook his head. There was no way he'd be able to follow, had he moved through the doors... then they'd know they were being tracked. He glanced over his shoulder, and looked through the strands of his blonde-white locks, but found nothing in his wake. He shook his head and noted the position of the few people behind him. Then he parted his lips and released a low scuff before he spun on the balls of his feet and retreated down the way he came.

To be less obvious in his retreat, he'd move towards the left, which led him down another pathway, and then eventually brought him to the one he emerged from a while ago. Then he headed straight and down the narrowed path until he came to one that led in the left direction. He turned and headed that way. Eventually, it guided him towards the other side opposite side of the building, and he began to search it--with his eyes alone--for some form of entrance. The search took him five minutes at best, but there always seemed to be another obstacle in the way. Within the first minute, he noticed a broken window. In the second minute, he noticed the height of the window and needed to find a way up. In the third minute, that way was located: stairs. In the forth minute, and a closer look at the stairs, he noticed the cracks and the broken steps. In the fifth minute, he noticed the fact that said broken stairs did not reach the very top of his location, for that portion of them had collapsed. Nevertheless, this was the only way he could spot from this angle, and he decided he had already wasted enough of his time.

He strode forward and in the direction of the stairs, then began to ascend them to the best of his ability. For the ones that were broken, he simply skipped over them with his long legs, and continued his upwards climb. With ever step, he could hear the protesting of the stairs beneath him and knew they would not last much longer; however, if he continued at the pace he was going, he wouldn't make it in time. It was now or never. If he did not run now, he would miss his chance, and if he retreated, he would be back at ground one. Sighing, he gripped the rail of the stairs and extended those long legs of his, which helped him climb the stairs easily, for he managed to skip four with his long strides. When he reached the top of the section he was on, the stairs groaned and then descended towards the ground in aloud thud. However, as this happened, Absi lunged forward and grabbed onto the stairs just above him. He shook his head and swung himself to the top.

The rest of his ascending adventure was rather simple and easy. When he reached his final destination, he looked at the broken window, crouched, and then climbed through it, only to have stood on a flat surface along the top of the abandoned warehouse, and then crouched down and watched the location in hopes of finding the target. "Now, where is he, " the Mercenary muttered...

This low-life had no reason to claim the mysterious man with the white mane soul for Qwevytul. The spectral god didn't ask for it, and she wouldn't go to take it unless deemed necessary. But now she had to move quickly before her blessing from her master left her. Her eyes searched for the white upon the bird she kept, finding him on the roof of an abandoned building, quickly moving towards it and instantly searching her Mark in the immediate area. Her ears strained for any noise, hoping to pinpoint the target by hearing with her sight not able to pick up the form of the man. She didn't have to wait long when she suddenly heard the crash of wood, quickly moving to the side of the building where the commotion came from. Just before a figure slipped entirely through the window, she caught the quickest glimpse of white strands, mind reeling back to the dark skinned man from earlier. Perhaps he wasn't part of the entourage, but also sent to deal with her target. If that were the case, then Kuerina had to move double time.

Her eyes turned back to the roof she was upon, the window the man took no longer an option for her entrance. The other men would also be alerted by the noise Absi's entrance made. No doubt, they'd send someone out to check out the area to see the cause of the noise, if so, Kuerina could attempt to make her entrance through the front door. No one would expect it, not with their minds occupied with an intruder already in the rundown warehouse. Quickly, Kuerina gave a low whistle to the crow, Kråke cocking his head in her direction before flying off as she threw her arm out towards the collapsed staircase. Her next step was to get back down to the ground. Scanning her surroundings for an easy way back to ground level, she crept towards the edge of the roof and leaped back across the alley to a lower building, grunting as she landed and leaning into the thatched roof to keep from falling. 

Now that she was closer to the ground, she un-nocked the arrow from her bow and slipped both bow and arrow into the quiver. She had to jump the rest of the way down from here. She edged her way down to the overhang of the roofing, letting her legs dangle into empty space before pivoting and slipping the rest of her body down, grimacing as wood scraped over exposed flesh, until her arms were extended to their full length and dropping the rest of the way down. She gave another grunt as she landed, tucking and rolling to keep from rolling an ankle or breaking a leg. Her hands quickly moved to her bow, slipping it back out from the quiver and checking if it had broken in her fall with a quick glance and a soft sigh of relief to see that it wasn't. The first arrow she pulled out, however, wasn't saved from the fall, it snapped two thirds of the way down its shaft. She tossed the arrow to the side before pulling out a second when her ears picked up the noise of a door creaking upon its hinges. 

Moving quickly, Kuerina reached the edge of the alley she dropped in, stopping once she reached the end with the only access into the building. She pressed her body against the building, slipping out far enough into the main alley to see one of the guards leave his comrades inside the no longer abandoned warehouse. His path took him towards the side opposite of the one the petite woman had herself pressed up against, never once seeing the black mass of darkness that was she. Kuerina didn't have long until her power would leave her, body starting to grow numb with the combined coldness of her powers and the weather. She had to make her move now. 

She dashed towards the entrance, slipping through the open door the guard was negligent to shut on his way out. She held her bow ready as she entered the building, drawn just in case the others were still nearby as she moved for cover, clinging to the wall. Her movements went unnoticed, thankfully, once she noticed the backs of the guards and her Mark were facing her deeper in the warehouse, hunched over a table while discussing matters. Kuerina kept moving into cover, taking shelter behind a large stack of crates just as her power left her, no longer shrouding her body within the shadows. But now, she had her target where she wanted him.

Meanwhile, outside. The guard that went off to search for the source of the ruckus only found the dilapidated staircase, Kråke perched upon the railing left standing as he gave a defiant caw.

The Descendant of Obscurity felt a change in the atmosphere. Yet again, there was something off about the location, and he was still unable to place his digit on it. What was it? What was the feeling that washed over his being? He bent his knees and suddenly dropped himself into a crouched position, then he scanned the location with his blue-green globes. As he did this, he began to locate the men who stood within this building. There was a total of five: there was the target, three of his body guards (as one was currently outside and checking the scene), and then there was the man the target had come here to make a deal with, and of course, that male's single bodyguard. This made the Mercenary's eyes narrow, for he needed a way to take them all out without drawing much attention to himself. After all, things would become rather difficult should he have to take out all of those men on his own. Then, he began to formulate a plan within the back of his mind. With a look behind him, he came to take note of the descending sun, and simply curled the corners of his lips into a smirk. If he waited a bit longer, he would be at a better advantage. Not only would he be able to sneak around the place, he'd be able to deal with each of the targets one by one.

When his thoughts concluded, he raised himself up and walked along the top of the building. His eyes never left the targets below, for if they escaped before he could reach the bottom, he'd have to give chase. Not only that, but their chances to escape him within the night would be better, more-so if he did not see which direction they moved in. Sure, he could track, but out in the open, be it day or night, he'd draw too many eyes onto his person, and that was something he did not need.  So it was now or never, he believed. There was no room for error, or trial. This was the final run, and the only run. He soon reached a door and slanted it open, then he looked into the room it revealed, and saw that nothing but darkness had been displayed before his person. "Good, " he muttered to himself and moved through the opening of the door. His steps, at this time, were careful and slow, so that he could draw as little noise to himself as possible. Once he was fully within the room, he moved to close the door behind him once he spun to face it. Moments before the door completely closed, he pressed the armored palm of his right hand against the frame of the door, and eventually pushed it against the back until the door was completely closed. Then he released the nob and spun on the balls of his feet to stare in the direction of the dark stairs. 

The Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, sucked in a deep breath of air and lowered himself towards the ground once more. Then he began to move down the length of the stairs with his eyes forever shifting in order to take in the details displayed before him. At this moment, none seemed to notice his presence, which was a good thing. And, as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he crouched low once more and soon placed his left palm onto the stone ground -- an action that would help keep the male's position balanced. From this position, he would only be able to see three of the seven men, none of which were his true target; nevertheless, they would fall this day. There was once a saying 'the wrong place at the wrong time,' and this was one of those moments. Sad, but true, nonetheless. The Descendant of Obscurity then made his way in the right direction and eventually stumbled onto a touch. The light of the touch cast itself outward, just enough for one of the guards to see, and then, when it was noticed, the shadow vanished from sight, for the Mercenary put out the flame. When the guard came to inspect the situation, he caught a massive hand to the neck, one that moved to strangle the life out of guard, even as he struggled to pull the hand away. Absi then reached forward and pulled a dagger from the male's belt, only to have then thrust it into the guard's stomach to gift him with a somewhat easy death.

When the struggle subsided, Absi turned the dagger in a circle to make sure there was no more movement. When nothing happened, he nodded his head and then dropped his hand into a nod and dragged the body in the direction of the stairs, only to have placed it beneath the stairs that led to his previous position.  With one of the three down, he moved back to his previous position and then pressed his back against the wall, only to have peeked over the corner. From this position, the three remaining guards (not including the one inspecting the outside) was within his view, plus the man he was sent to kill, and the one the target had been trading with. Thankfully, there was still light outside, which meant there would not be many torches to deal with. He eventually waved his left hand out and into the view of the next two guards, who looked at one another and eventually informed the boss they saw something and moved to check it out. Whatever the boss said to them could not be made out, for it was a jumble of words; however, Absi managed to pick up on the fact it was some form of insult, not that it mattered, for two of the guards were closing in on him, walking one behind the other.

The Mercenary raised his right hand to the leather grip of Mournblade, and then pulled the 'black' blade free of its sheath with a slight ring. The gentle hum of the weapon was heard by the guards and they both approached with caution. However, when they moved to draw their weapons, the Mercenary spun around the corner and thrust the long blade forward. It went through the first guard's stomach until the tip of Mournblade stabbed the second guard through the jaw and eventually out of the top of his head. Then, the Descendant of Obscurity pulled the blade free, and as the guard before him began to fall to the ground, he flicked his sword arm forward and beheaded the man before him. Then, he watched as the blood sprayed into the air, and soon flicked the blade down, which cleaned it of any form of crimson liquid. At this point in time, three were down, and three were currently left to his mercy. At least, that would have been the easy way; however, the thumping of the guard's bodies gained the attention of on-lookers, who stared in the direction of the Descendant of Obscurity; however, all they could see was the glow of his blue-green orbs, and then his teeth when he curled his lips into a smirk.

With his position lost, he figured there was no need to keep to silence and rushed forward. His body sprang over one of the tables, and he landed onto the next guy, which met the tip of his sword directly in the chest. Absi placed his left hand onto Mournblade's hilt and then drove the weapon home, which caused the male to stop breathing.  Two were left, and both of the business men stood in shock at how easily their men had been dispatched. The Mercenary said, "Well, you get what you pay for, I suspect." Then he chuckled and bowed his head to the both of them. Just then, he raised his hand and snatched a torch from the wall, and held it before his face. "It's always nice to get a final look at the one who killed you." He then threw the torch at the man his target was here to meet, and watched him catch on fire. He noticed how the man struggled to put out the flames, but could not act quick enough due to the material, which enraged the flames. The Mercenary then turned in the direction of the target and began to walk towards him, when he suddenly felt an arrow pierce his shoulder in a portion where his armor did not cover. He groaned and then spun himself in a quick circle and threw the weapon at the last guard. His aim--because he simply threw the weapon--was not spot on, and he was very unsure if it would hit or not. But he got lucky. The massive weapon struck the male across the chest and buried itself into the flesh, but it was not enough to kill the man. Absi reached behind him and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder, and then dropped it onto the ground. Afterwards, he pulled the weapon free of the male's skin and then dropped the point onto his throat, and soon leaned on said weapon. When he pulled it out of the male a final time, he glanced over his shoulder and said to his target, "You might want to run." Then he flicked his tongue along the length of his lips. There was no thrill in killing someone who wasn't gong to fight back. The target clearly wasn't a fighter... perhaps that was a reason he hired the low-life thugs who probably promised him the best protection money could buy. This made the word, "Worthless, " leave the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword's lips.

She had just returned her arrow to bowstring, ready to remove herself from hiding when she noticed the room grow slightly darker. Her eyes flickered about the building, the hairs upon her neck rising in unease. She wasn't the only one to have noticed the fractal loss of light, one of the guardsmen moving to inspect the reason for the change in lighting. She watched the man until he was out of her sight, rusty irises returning to search for any reaction from the rest of the party. Two of the mercenaries had seen something, from the same location the previous man had gone. It had to be that man from earlier. He did enter the building after all through an upstairs window. There must have been another set of stairs in that direction and he was now making his decent. Her fingers twitched along their hold upon her bow, right brushing against the goose feathers that were the arrow's fletching. She would wait just a bit longer before she claimed her bounty.

The strangled cry of death caught her focus, both guards toppling to the now blood stained wooden floor; the standing form of Absi left in their wake. Kuerina's heart fluttered within its cage, fear entering her bloodstream as she watched the man dash towards his next target, sword impaling the man in a blink of an eye. The dark man was quick, almost too fast for her eyes to keep up as she watched his death dance. It was haunting, to see someone kill so many in such quick succession. If she were to even have a chance at killing her Mark, Kuerina would have to do so now while the other assassin was busy killing the others. She removed herself from her hiding spot, crouching upon her right knee, left outstretched like a prop, as she drew back her arrow. Just as she did, she registered the screams of panic from the man lit on fire. Her arm wavered slightly before she cancelled out the noise with a prayer to her Patron of Death and focused upon her target. 

An arrow flew, lodging itself into the shoulder of Absi, but it was not one from her quiver. The guard that had gone outside returned, hoping to stop the white-blonde beast from killing more. Kuerina almost lost resolve as her arms gave slack to the weapon in her hands, seeing the man easily pluck the projectile from his person and throwing it back at the marksman with near accurate precision. Yet, with all the mayhem going on, Kuerina was still not noticed. She had to finish her job; had to claim the life of the target before the other did. 

She pulled back once again, drawing her bow just as the target turned to flee. Her breath came out slow, taking the fear she had felt from watching the Descendant of Obscurity and turning it into a focus. The world seemed to slow as her eyes and lead arm followed the fleeing man, arrow pointed straight for the man's heart. "Join the masses of brethren you sold yourself to. Become my shadow.." Upon the last syllable, Kuerina let the arrow fly, it flying straight and true thanks to the lack of obstacles between her and the man. He barely even took two steps away from Absi when the arrow slammed into the man's chest, stumbling a few more as he choked upon sanguine fluids that entered his pierced lung before falling flat upon his face, the last breath shuddering out of his form. Kuerina sat crouched for a total of two seconds before standing to her full height, returning her bow back to her quiver and raising her hands up, showing that she didn't wish to come to blows with the last man standing. She wouldn't be able to defend herself against that sword.

"I only came to claim that man's vow to the Lord of Final Death. I have no business with you and am sure you have none with me. So how about we part ways, you may even take that poor sod to whoever you need to. My Lord has no more use for him." Her manner of speech remained careful, enunciated; nothing at all like the pattern she used for her persona known as Shae. This was a different woman now, that was for sure. 

Her dark eyes remained upon Absi, watching his every movement and ready to dart out of the building if he advanced upon her. She wasn't a true fighter. She was a sneaktheif that took her kills from the shadows, much like a spider in that aspect. One way or another, her mission was completed, and she would leave this place alive. A croak came from the exit to the warehouse, the piebald crow perched upon the opened door. The bird kept his eyes upon the situation, ready to fly to his mistresses aide in case she needed a distraction for her escape.

The Descendant of  Obscurity shifted his footing against the ground when the true target came to rest before his blue-green gaze. He furrowed his brows and then curled the corners of his lips into that of a smirk. It was time to take the life of the male before him; it was time to draw this meeting to a conclusion. He shifted his footing, and soon rested a majority of his weight onto his right foot before he rolled his shoulders back and then dropped his right arm at a slanted angle, a movement that would cause the tip of the 'black,' Mournblade, to point towards the ground. He said, "It seems your time of living has finally reached it's highest point. Please, do not hate me, for this is nothing more than simple business." When he finished speaking, he raised the point of his blade before him, with his right hand, and then angled the weapon so that one side of the blade faced him, and the other faced the male before him. He soon cleared his throat and then took a single step forward, just as an arrow came whooshing past his person and soon landed into his target. His eyes narrowed, but that was the only form of emotion he cared to display at this point in time. When he looked at how the arrow landed within the body, he flexed his nostrils, having wondered why  he had yet to pick up the one who was within the range of his senses. He followed the position of the arrow, seconds before he heard the thump of the male's body and then shook his head in silence.

After a few moments or so, he simply located his gaze onto the woman when she spoke to him. '"I only came to claim that man's vow to the Lord of Final Death. I have no business with you and am sure you have none with me.' Was that true? Had he no business with her, even though the both of them shared the same target? His head tilted in the opposite direction, and he moved to size the creature before him up, to the best of his ability. Afterwards, he righted the position of his head and parted his lips, but did not yet give a response. 'So how about we part ways, you may even take that poor sod to whoever you need to. My Lord has no more use for him.' Was it truly that simple? Take the life of a Mercenary's target, and then pretend all is well? He spun the massive blade through the light grip he had on the weapon, and eventually moved to rest the face of his partner onto his right shoulder. Afterwards, he broke his silence and said, "Who am I to say I killed someone I did not? I dare not soil my name with lies. Not only that, but I do not wish to take credit for something I've done. If people come after me, I'll have to kill them for no reason." He flicked his tongue along the length of his lips and then took a single step in the woman's direction. As he did this, his right hand flexed and the grip on his weapon's hilt tightened when he took the weapon from his shoulder and held it out to his side. "Tell me. What should a man in my position do to someone who steals their kill? You have cost me money." It was true. There was no way one would believe he did the killing. After all, he was not a man who used a bow and arrow. And there was no way Mournblade could cause a wound as small as the one displayed before the two. 

Just then, he noticed--out of the corner of his eye--the frame of a creature and simply tilted his head in the right direction. Just who was he dealing with here? Perhaps, for the moment, he wouldn't take the life of the woman before him. He needed answers, and he needed coin for the deed that was done here today. She would have to pay in some way, shape, or form. "Perhaps... if you pay me, I shall turn a blind eye to the situation. This male's death would have earned me 20 coin."

A low grumble turned within the crow's throat as the male took a step towards Kuerina, she taking a hesitant step back as her eyes darted towards the exit. Her hands fought the urge to reach for the bow she so foolishly stashed away, all in the name of looking harmless. Instead, she continued to creep backwards until her back bumped against a stack of crates, a small 'oof' leaving her lips. She felt trapped, her heart rapidly racing like a panicked canary within her chest, adrenaline causing her words to waver. "I was just doing as My Lord instructed. If I had not killed that man with my own arrow, it would have been my life next. Qwevytul is not benevolent like the rest of his brethren." She held her breath momentarily, trying to calm her nerves as she eyed Absi. She felt much smaller now that she took in the size of the man before her, nearly a foot taller in comparison to her petite figure.

Her fingers dropped to the wooden panel of the crate behind her, running over the grooves and finding the edge so she could inch her way towards it to put something physical between her and the man. Upon further inspection of his form, she noticed the way he held himself, tall and proud, just like those damned nobles. But he insinuated that he was a mercenary, a man to be bought for the use of others, and he played the part well. A lighthearted flit of a giggle left her lips, "There are easy fixes to make sure your... Contractor wouldn't tell if you killed the man or not. If you'd let me retrieve my arrow, you can stick the corpse with your mighty fine sword and no one will ever know that a little girl stole your kill," she then raised a finger suddenly, "and, you get that twenty gold you were promised. A win win, no?" A grin then stretched along her features, "well, a minor win for you. I assure you than man is worth more than what you were promised. And the men that could possibly come for you, think of it as a bonus to your name! People would know of the fearsome... man you are. I apologize for not knowing your title, for I have yet to hear of your prowess."

"As for an immediate remedy to the situation, and foregoing what I have suggested, I have to regretfully inform you that I do not carry such money upon my person. Unlike you, judging from your attire and weapon alone, I'm not as well off as you are, ser. I do not have anything worth in value to trade for the lost currency." Kuerina was playing a dangerous game, and it caused her fingers to shake noticeably. She needed to get to the door, her arrow could be salavaged at a later time. Hopefully the male would turn to her previous scenario to the predicament, avoiding even more bloodshed.

For a moment, the man heard the low grumble of the crow, but did not respond to the creature in order to create the illusion that he'd forgotten about the creature, or had not noticed its presence since he first cast a glance towards it. Then, the Mercenary watched as the woman retreated when he took a single step forward. Was she afraid of him? Why was she retreating with a hesitant step of her own? When her eyes darted towards the exit, he arched a brow and shook his head. Was she planning on running? That would give him a reason to strike her down, wouldn't it? He thought of his own actions, and as she continued to retreated, he decided it would be best for him to take a step in the woman's direction. The less distance between the both of them, the better, no? When she backed into a stack of crates, he stopped, which allowed a total of four feet to be between himself and the woman. Due to the length of his sword, and the stretch of his arm, she was more than within the Mercenary's striking range. When she moved to speak to him, he listened to her words, but he did not wish to speak right away. Surly she had her reasons for killing, but that did not brush the reason she stole his kill. After all, he went through all of the trouble of taking out those about his person, but he didn't seem to care as much - or so his blank expression did not let on how much this event had bothered him. If she killed for a Lord, should she not fear the Mercenary before her? Surly if he killed the woman, he would have to deal with those who cared for her, no?

The Mercenary's eyes studied the woman for as much detail as he could pick up. He cocked his head in the right direction before he flared his nostrils and then watched as she planned to put something between the both of them. Then he found it strange when she giggled and arched his brow in question. Whatever trust he was gaining towards the woman had been dismissed. She seemed to be a mixture of feelings. Before this, she took the life of a man in cold blood. Then, she stood before a killer, and she was faced with fear.  And now she was giggling in the face of danger? She was quite the character indeed! The Descendant of Obscurity listened to the woman's words as if he was going to consider the 'deal' she made with him just now. Of course there were easy fixes to this situation, and he could make it seem as if he killed the man, but what good would that be for him? What would he get out of it? Simply twenty gold? Sure, that'd be twenty gold he could put in his pockets, but it was not an amount of gold he earned himself. Not only that, but he could not picture himself shoving his mighty weapon in a dead corpse. It just didn't sit well or right with him. He finally said, "You are a strange one. Are you trying to play me as stupid?" He paused for a moment and then tapered his gaze onto the visage of the woman before him.

He then said, with a darkness to his light tone, but deep voice, "I am aware of what I could do to make it seem as if I were the killer. But it is a question of honor and choice. I take no honor in piercing a dead body with a blade as deadly as this. It is designed to end lives, not carve up the dead." He paused again, as if he were weighing the depth of his next words; choosing them. She mentioned herself as a little girl? Was she going to play that care? Try to get him on her side, and then insult him at the same time? Talk about a woman trying to crush a man's pride. If that was her game, she'd have to try harder than that to take away from this man. He then tilted his head up, but stared down at her with his unique, blue-green globes of death and said, "It is not a win-win. And I do not care how much he is worth, so long as I get what belongs to me. Now, I am not going to stand here and argue with you. I'll offer you this: pay me, or I'll end you. And people already know of my skill, being the one who took out..."He trailed off and brushed his hand through the air, as if he were dismissing the thought entirely. There was no need to bring up the past during this time.

Then she gave her words to him, and he could do nothing but shake his head in response to her words. She didn't carry money on her person? He didn't answer her right away, no. He instead studied the woman's frame and came to pick up the details of the woman's frame. Here, she shook with fear once more. Or was it anger that he was so resistance in not taking the offer she bestowed upon him? He said, "I shall make a deal of my own, no? If you wish to keep your life, you shall take me to a place where I am to gain the gold lost to me from your stealing of my kill. If you do not comply, you will be my personal target, and then I shall sell whatever you have on your person to make up for my loss. If  you comply, no harm shall come to that pretty little head of yours. I'll accept my gold and then I'll be on my way. No one will ever know we even came to know one another, or crossed paths. Doesn't that sound like a win-win?"

Kuerina gave the man a scowl; this mercenary turned her deal around, threatening her own life. And claimed the man she killed his target? "Before I agree to taking you into my home, how do you think I came to be here? I too was sent to claim that man. I had equal amount, if not more, rights to taking the Mark. Now let me retrieve my arrow and I'll get you yer damned gold." The girl stood against the wall she found herself pressed up against as she waited for the man before her to let her pass by him further into the building. 

If if he didn't make any motion for her to, she'd brush past him regardless as she waltzed over to the corpse she skewered just moments ago. Reaching the body, she crouched down as she pressed a hand against the torso and wrapped the fingers of her other hand about the shaft of the projectile before yanking it out with just the strength of her arms. As she stood, she'd flick the arrow in an arc, getting most of the sanguine fluids off in that flick. She turned back towards the man, sheathing the object within her quiver. She didn't bother to glance at the Obscurity fellow as she brushed past once again and headed towards the door, a short, sharp whistle escaping her lips and crow taking flight in tandem to the noise. "Follow me if you want your money." As much as she hated the idea of giving Absi her money, she valued her life more. And as luck would have it, she wouldn't have to deal with seeing the man again now that she was soon leaving the stinking heap of Vertholt. But maybe, if Qwevytul allowed it, she could shake the man with her ability and avoid losing money. It would all depend on if she had the courage to do so. 

The Mercenary narrowed his eyes onto the woman before him and shook his head slightly. He didn't trust her for the least bit, but he had to try and make some money out of this entire ordeal. He had his honors, and his ways, but stabbing a dead corpse was not one of them. As she spoke to him about retrieving her arrow, he did not seem to move. In fact, as she moved past him, the only thing that followed her was the movement of his blue-green eyes. He then said, in a seemingly-late response, "How you came to be here is no matter to me. What matters is the final meeting. In that final meeting, you stand between myself and my gold. This is why you are paying." He then lowered his head into a nod, as if he was adding some form of reinforcement to his claims, and then spun on the ball of his feet to fully turn in the direction of the woman before him. His eyes lingered a bit, and then he shifted them to take in the full detail of the woman's frame. At this point in time, he was doing nothing more than sizing her up in order to see if he could back up his 'claims.' And with whatever faith he had behind himself, he thought himself capable of doing so.

When she finished with the re-capturing of her arrow, the Mercenary shifted his balance between both of his feet in the form of a slow sway. When he finished leaning left to right, then left to right again, he moved to sheath his weapon and simply said, in a low tone, "If you try anything, I'll strike you dead where you stand. This is your only chance." His words were dark and held no emotion behind them, but that was because the man had been serious about earning his gold. Not only that, but he didn't trust those he didn't know. And the woman before him only seemed to give him more reason not to trust her. She was a shady creature, or so the man assumed her to be, based on the way she handled the situation this far. Not only that, but the fact that she answered his previously mentioned questions the way she did. He then slid his right foot along the length of the ground and relaxed his stance slightly while his head lowered as well. This was a way of him testing the woman, to see if she'd run away or not. Her actions would determine the way the rest of their story became laid out. Nevertheless, he added to the illusion that he was slowly starting to trust her--based on the promise of coin, that is--and began to calm his breathing and loosen his stance. This way, it would seem as if he was going to follow her without a problem. In face, the Mercenary even put on a smile and said, "Lead the way, and I shall follow, my friend. There is no promise like that of coin!"

Kuerina gave a "tsk" at the man's words, tossing the ebony locks of hair behind her shoulder as she passed through the door. "Just try to keep up, big boy." As soon as she exited the building, rusty oculars glanced about the darkened alley for a way up to the roofs. It was faster to travel that way and avoided unwanted eyes from prying into her business. The bird Kuerina kept as a pet was perched upon the roof of a low set building, an easier access to the open area. The only problem was her height, being too short to make the leap and pull herself up. 

She swiftly pivoted her body, turning back towards the man she hoped was following close behind and pointed towards the roof, "I need to give me a boost up. I swear I won't run away." She held up a hand with her palm facing Absi, like she were making an oath. "Make it quick, too. There could be eyes watching and being here longer makes my skin crawl." 

Shoulders hunched as her eyes shifted about at the thought. She wasn't used to the temporary partnership she was forced into, nor would she tolerate it if the man kept her from moving quickly. "Also. We are not friends."

The Mercenary shifted to the sound of the woman's 'tsk' and simply shook his head in response to her actions. This was one rude woman, but it mattered not,  for he only had to deal with her presence today. And, of course, the sooner the both of them finished with everything, the better. Things would go smoothly, no? He watched as she turned and passed through the door, then listened to her when she spoke her words. Keep up? As if he needed to try. One of her strides had to be at least a half of his. Sure, their height may not have had that much more of a distance, but he still had more reach than she! Nevertheless, he moved to follow the woman as she spoke to him. And then she when she paused, he did as well. After all, he did not know where she was going, or who remained at the end of this short adventure. But what he did know was 'what' rested at the end of this adventure: Gold. He sucked in a deep breath and then grinned to himself.

When the woman pivoted her body and faced the Mercenary and spoke, he arched his brow in response and then shook his head. Afterwards, he gave a 'tsk' of his own and then measured the distance with his blue-green eyes. After his mental calculations, he strode forward and then made the leap the woman made clear she could not. Then he stared down at her, as if he were challenging her with his blue-green eyes. Then, he eventually dropped into a crouch, and then moved to lay prone. Afterwards, his right hand dropped down and he extended it towards her with a relaxed grip. "I'm sure you won't run away. I'll help pull you up." When he finished speaking, he shook his hand slightly and then watched her. If she decided to leave him, he'd have to get back down. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her getting up here, meaning his chase would go a lot smoother. After all, she promised him coin, and the only thing to come from false promises had been death... more so when it came to coin... at least in his eyes. He then said, "I'm not sure many people here will be willing to cross me, at the moment. After all, I have something following me." He shrugged, as if that was all of the information he would give on the subject.

To her comment 'we are not friends, ' he simply chuckled. It was true, they were not friends, and the chance of them becoming friends had been very slim. Perhaps if things were different, he could consider it? That was a slim chance, for he did not think he needed a partner. It was more coin for him, and life was a lot simpler when he had to deal with things how he saw fit. Regardless, he was here now, and so was she. So he'd have to make the best of it, even if he didn't trust the woman. Now, should the woman take his hand, he'd drop his left down to grip her forearm while his right hand moved to tighten itself around the woman's digits. Then, and only then would he dip his head into a nod and move to get to his feet and pull her up. The strength in his arms and legs, and his height would help greatly in this situation.

As her new "friend" moved towards the roof, she gave a disgusted sigh as she saw him make the leap and raise himself up. Now he was mocking her with his height! She gritted her teeth as she glared up at him, the idea of fleeing crossing her mind but already too late to take action as Absi reached back down for her hand. Her rusty orbs inspected the hand held out before her, as if it were diseased before reaching her smaller one into his. Her other hand then reached for his wrist before she planted a foot upon the side of the building, engaging her core as she moved to pull herself further up before releasing one hand from his arm and latching onto the overhang of the thatched roof. She then swung up a leg in attempt to get the rest of her body up and over, a hiss of air escaping her lips as the wood scraped upon the already skinned up flesh of her stomach. She'd have to remember to clean that once she gave the man his money. 

Taking in a breath of the cold air, Kuerina finally rose from her crouched position, casting a glance towards the man, "It's this way. Let's go." She then took off at a run as she headed back towards her "dwelling", not bothering to make sure the man was following behind. If he couldn't keep up, then he didn't deserve the gold she was about to give him. 

The avian followed closely from the sky, ready to relay any trouble to his mistress or come to her aide if the male decided to change his mind and take the girl's life. 

The Descendant of Obscurity watched as the woman helped herself up and then scrapped her knee. He could only hang his head in shame. He allowed this woman to steal his kill? She was not worthy of such a feat. Perhaps he should have let the other men live...? Then again, they didn't seem to detect the woman either. Perhaps she had other skills she was not displaying? He spun on the balls of his feet and began to follow the woman as she spoke. His stride was wider than hers, so it was easier for him to keep up with her. Not only that, but the act in itself allowed him to use less effort. Of course, he didn't want the woman to know the full extent of his powers, so he began to slow down enough to have a few feet placed between the two of them. Then he began to time his steps and control his breathing. All according to plan, he thought. It was almost as if some form of him wanted the woman to try him; wanted the woman to test him and see what he'd do in response to her actions.

But only time would tell the outcome of the events! Would she hold true to her words? Would she betray him? It was more than likely his last thought, but he hoped for the best, and planned for the rest. Mournblade itched for another coating.

Before too long, the smallish woman would slow her pace before making one final leap over the rooftops. Hopefully, the man trailing her would slow as well and not knock her frame over. Or make her dance about him to avoid such an embarrassment. Her head pivoted towards the Obscurity's direction, pointing down towards the back alley. "We've arrived. The entrance is on the otherside, but we need to get down this way." Her lips started to form more instructions, yet stopped as she studied the man's features, shaking her head. "I would tell you to try and not attract attention, but your hulking form already does. How the hell were you able to sneak up on those men?" Before the man could come up with a comeback of his own, the girl quickly dropped from the hovel's roof, bending at the knees to avoid any damage from the not too high drop once she landed. She waited for the man to drop down, adjusting her ragged cloak upon her back so it obscured the bow and quiver upon her back.

Once finishing with her adjustment, the girl tossed her long, dark, wavy locks over her shoulder and crept towards the entrance of the street that led to her front door. Standing at the edge of the shadows, her gaze would flick from one end to the other, in search of those that she feared. Perhaps, after she got rid of Absi she would relocate. She had been in this area for a little too long and the fear she felt had been growing stronger with each passing minute. "Hey," she whispered, "how's yer actin' skills?" Hopefully he had some, it wasn't like she needed him to pretend he was the King himself! Just a simple thing so as to keep things less suspicious about what Kuerina really did as a second job. "I also hope yer good at improvisin' too, if things come to shit."

As the small-framed woman slowed her pace, the Descendant of Obscurity slowed his pace as well. When she leaped over the rooftop, he narrowed his gaze, pulled back, and then lunged forward enough for his legs to soar through the air. When he landed, he was slightly crouched, but able to move, nonetheless, and he was to the right of her current position. When she spoke, he turned his deep eyes in her direction and then lowered his head into an understanding nod. He was close to getting his money, he figured, and that was always good news. When she went to say something, his eyes picked up the motion and he focused on her, but soon found nothing but silence in her wake. But that did not last, for after she shook her head, the words came pouring out. Not to attract attention? Despite his large size, that was usually enough, at least he believed that to be the case. Then, to her question about how he had been able to sneak up on those men, he said, "People are often blind to the truth before them." Although his words were riddle-ish, they were true. People did not often expect those around them to come forth and actually carry out a hit when they were important and had guards. Not only that, but the attention was not focused on him. Usually, the gaze of those around him had been more focused on something of importance, which allowed him to move. And then there had been the fact he tried to be quick on his feet. Of course, by this time, the woman had dropped from the roof, and he moved to do the same. When she was adjusting her cloak, he was standing up tall with his hand correcting the position of Mournblade.

At this point in time, she was creeping in the direction of the entrance, and he was following her with a seemingly relaxed stance. When she asked about his acting skills, he simply stared at her with a blank expression. No one had ever asked him something like that before, so he did not have a response to give her right away. Silence, at this moment in time, was his friend. Regardless, he knew he would be up for whatever task there had been before him. After all, a Mercenary was supposed to be well-versed in his art of skills. He said, "What do you want of me?" As he awaited her response, his gaze locked itself onto the features of her face, and then he lowered his head into a final nod. "I suppose we'll have to see what I can do." This would prove to be interesting, he figured. Not only that, but acting may require an increase in the bill, no?

Turning her back towards the street before her to face Absi, Kuerina gave him a brief look over once again. Before discussing what she had planned, she gave a long sigh that visibly moved her frame. Her oculars then locked onto the male's azure ones, "I need ya to act like yer a paying customer for.. services." Her voice was but a whisper, so as to not alert anyone that was still lurking about in the night. These two were doing just that after all, and no doubt there were other street rats that were. "Think yer up for that?" Quite honestly, acting in such a way made the young woman uncomfortable, but that's what happened when you lived in the festering place of the slums. Her face didn't let off on her discomfort of the situation, however, it remaining stoic as ever. 

She just hoped that the man would agree so she could quickly get rid of him.

---

Unfortunately for the girl, things would not turn the way she wanted them, for her home was already preoccupied by an intruder. His lanky frame lounged within the single chair that occupied the shack, chin resting within his palm. He thought that now was appropriate as any to finally reveal himself once more within Kuerina's life, to return to causing her misfortune, and he would revel in it. A stretched smile appeared upon his face, revealing the row of jagged not-so-pearly-whites, as he imagined the face of shock his sister would have upon her face once she saw him, a ghost of her past living and flourishing in the slums like a virus that plagued the streets. 

His foot tapped against the floor as his left fore-digit traced the pommel of Ribsplitter. Yes, things were going to get fun. 

The Descendant of Obscurity watched as the woman turned to face him and then gave him a look-over a few seconds past. He cocked his head to the right and then blew air through his teeth in the form of a tssing sound. When she sighed and then locked her eyes onto his, he arched his left brow in question, for he was curious as to what it was the woman would say to him. Luckily, he did not have to wait long, for the woman began to speak, telling him that he needed to act as if he were a customer for services. He cleared his throat and then raised his other brow to match the level of the one that rose first. Only then did he wrinkle his forehead while he furrowed his brows and stared at her silently with an otherwise blank expression upon his face. His tongue then slid between his lips as they parted, and he eventually ran the pink muscle along the length of his lips. Afterwards, he shook his head, which sent the man's white-blonde mane flowing about the location of his shoulders. When the shaking of his cranium halted, he released a silent sigh and then curled his digits against the palm of his hand until tight first were made. Just what type of customer was he supposed to be?

When she asked him if he was up for that, he simply responded with a dip of his head and then he straightened the posture of his person and held his head high. Pretending would not prove to be difficult, for he was a born Nobel, and he knew he was a superior to most about his person. Because of this belief, he knew well he was perfect for playing this part. His throat cleared once more and he drew in a final deep breath of air, which helped him push out his muscular chest. In all honesty, he was dressed in typical armor; however, it was nothing above fancy, but it showed well that it had been crafted by fine hands. Oh, the Descendant of Obscurity was more than up for the challenge. When he finally entered character, he cast his blue-green globes down and onto the features of the woman's face. He then wrinkled his nose and scuffed lightly before he said, "Are you going to just stare at me, or will we get on with this? I'm not paying you to simply stare at me." His voice was a low whisper, done so that he would not draw too much attention to his person; however, it was also loud enough for him to let those within a close proximity to the both of them know he was serious. His arms then moved to rest before his muscled chest before he corrected the position of his head as his eyes sized up her person.

He began to wonder why it was they had to pretend to be something they were not--however they were customer and client in a way--and why it was he decided to play along with these games of hers. In fact, all he truly wanted was some money to make sure his time was not wasted in today's events. He was an honest man, so to speak, and did not wish to lie to someone who hired him to get the job done. And so, he was forcing this one to pay for her mistakes. At this thought, he reminded himself that he needed to focus on the assignment at hand, for he could not trust the woman before him. Nevertheless, that did not mean he could not play along, for she owed him coin, and he would secretly do anything to get the coin from the woman before him. His nostrils flared as he read the  stoic  expression upon the woman's visage, but did not move to comment on it as of yet. It was, both in and out of his character, unimportant to him. In all honesty, he simply wanted nothing more than to get this over with and then continue on with his night.

She gave a 'tsk' before reaching out for his hand to drag him along. If he refused the hand, she would continue on without the dragging. "So, sugar~" She whispered in mock infatuation, "what brings a handsome man, like yourself, to this lovely city of Vertholt?" She didn't care, it was all part of the act. She just wanted him gone as soon as possible, but she had to play the part if anyone lurking around would be fooled. She hoped that they would be fooled, that way she could stay for just a bit longer, she only had a few more days until she could leave this stinking city.

Making it to the door of her humble little shack, Kuerina withdrew a key from one of the many pouches she kept on her person, quickly moving to unlock it. She paused, however, when she saw the door left open just slightly. Her back stiffened slightly, it was too late. Someone found out where she was staying and came to claim her.

She glanced back at the giant behind her, teeth grinding as she fell deep into her thoughts. She had to keep her promise with this man, she was trapped already. Steeling herself, Kuerina finally pushed the door open with her left hand, her right hidden behind her ragged cloak, clutching tightly to one of the six throwing knives she had on her. The voice that rang out made her stomach drop violently.

"Hello, Kuerina, dear.."

---

Kievan watched the door swing open with a creak, white-blue irises lighting up as he gazed upon the look-a-like of his mother, rage boiling within that this girl before him survived instead. His lips widened into a cruel smile, "hello, Kuerina, dear. How fares my dear sister?" The girl was shaking visibly, her knees looking like they were about to give. How wonderful it was to see the fear so evident on this child.

The lanky man stood from his seat, left hand resting upon the pommel of his sword as he moved toward her. Reaching her, he placed a hand under Kuerina's chin, lifting her face up so he could examine her features better. Her eyes were the same darkness of Eliean, hair the same curls. Even her skin was the same color as his mother. Kuerina was too paralyzed out of fear to defend herself, forgetting that she held the throwing knife tightly in her grasp.

Rage began to take over the man each second he gazed at the girl, the shadows gathering about him in the form of three lashing tendrils. "You should not have survived.." He whispered vehemently, one of three tendrils rising to brush a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

The Mane of Chaos, Blacksword watched as the woman reached for his hand. He narrowed his eyes--if only for a second--and shifted to lace his digits with her own, as if he did it for show and the fact that she would be able to 'drag' him better. He tilted his head back and moved after her. When she whispered, he arched a brow, and then curled the corners of his maw upward and into a smile. He drew in a deep breath and responded, with a soft tone of his own, "To be honest? I heard there are some places here filled with all kinds of attractions. And there are some beautiful women around these parts as well... by that, I mean yourself. I cannot say I am hurt I ended up with you as my lead." His smile grew darker, yet softer at the same time, for he knew well he wanted, well had to play this part. For what reason? Perhaps it escaped his mind, but it didn't matter, as his best treat was awaiting him at the end of it all: Gold. There was nothing better than Gold. Nothing.

When the two of them reached the door to her shake, the Mercenary watched as Kuerina withdrew her key and shifted to  unlock the door. With his observing eyes, he noticed the pause and glanced over his shoulder to see if the two had been followed. His response was a natural one, for he picked up on the fact he'd need to watch his back if he wanted to keep his head, in a literal fashion. He drew in a deep breath of air, and started to relax, having not seen anyone. But then the woman stiffened and he snapped his gaze in the direction of the door to see if she spotted someone, but to his surprise, it was only a slightly opened door. He curled his thumb against the back of her hand and said, "Don't look so afraid. Steel your heart."

At this point in time, she glanced back at him and began to grind her teeth. He shook his head and flared his nostrils, moments before the woman pushed the door completely open and did something. He arched a brow. Perhaps he needed to be on his guard, too, as she was on edge. Just who did she make mad? His free hand moved up, and he brushed strands of his white-blonde hair out of his face while he slowly stepped forward. He did his best to not draw attention to himself, which was a difficult task with him being such a towering figure, with a large, black-looking blade strapped to his back. And then he heard it, a voice that spoke the name 'Kuerina.'

His gaze flicked along the length of the area and then locked itself onto the white-blue irises that stood out within the darkness. His own blue-green globes locked onto the male, but he continued to hold his ground for the most part. He, at this moment in time, was not phased by the appearance of the unknown being; however, he was well on his guard. He didn't care much for meeting new people, and even less when they had nothing to offer him. He shifted his feet and balanced his weight while he studied the two. When the appearance of a cruel smile happened, the Mercenary twitched, and took note that the male said Kuerina was his dear sister. So this was a family meeting? Perhaps he should not get involved. He wanted to take a step back and allow them to settle their problems as only family could. But when he moved to do so, he noticed how much the woman before him had been shaking, her knees clearly fearful like a hooker in church.

Then the 'lanky' man stood from his set with his hand within reach of his sword and soon closed in on the woman. For the moment, it seemed the Descendant of Obscurity appeared to be invisible. None had taken note of his position anymore. The woman didn't even curl her digits around his hand to ask for help. He shook his head and gave that smaller hand a slight squeeze, just as the 'brother' moved to place a hand under the woman's chin. When the brother studied Kuerina's features, the Mercenary withdrew a breath of air. It was then that the Mercenary picked up on the rage and the shadows began to gather about his person. His eyes narrowed for a second, and that's all it took for him to act. He shifted his arm and then pulled it, the moment the tendrils moved to brush themselves against the woman's hair, and aimed to get her behind him. His right hand lingered at his side, as if he was harmless. But, unknown to the knowledge of the male before him, he was well within reach of freeing the weapon, should he need to. But for now, he wanted to appear harmless, almost as if the weapon on his back was for nothing more than show. Other than that, the man did not speak, nor did he turn his gaze away from the one who called himself 'the brother.' As to why he tried to protect this woman? The answer was simple: he liked Gold and she was going to give it to him.

The fear clung to her like a sickness, her brow drenched with sweat as the ghost of her past returned once more. He was the reason she was left alone at such an age, he killed their parents and fled to safety, all in the hopes that he would get his twisted sense of revenge upon his little sister and no longer have her in the world of living. His touch made her sick, bile rising to the back of her tongue, whimpering softly as he petted her face with a tendril. Never had she been filled with such terror, her chest squeezing in on her like a vice. She couldn't breathe, scared as she was, forgetting what she had previously come here for and the man she had escorted here. She couldn't even register the digits her hand held in a death-like grip. 

Then she felt the tug on her arm, stumbling and yelping as she hit something solid yet warm. The dagger she held in her other hand clattered to the ground, almost deafening in her ears as she clutched to the man she had forgotten about in her fear. Her back was now to the doorway, a free exit she could take and flee from the scene, to get away from her brother and let Absi deal with him. But then what was the real reason she brought the man to her home, she had nearly lost that reason as well thanks to the other man she feared so greatly. Her free hand, once again, wrapped about a dagger, slipping it from her belted waist and silently pressed it into her guardian's hand that held her own, slipping her digits free. The hand that had been trapped in his was numb, she flexing the digits to put the prickling feel of needles at bay. She needed a plan of escape, yet to pay the man, lest she have two men that wanted to claim her life. She just wanted to be out of this city already! She would even give up her nocturnal activities if needed. 

Her startled eyes peeked around the tall man that towered over her brother, the rage still swathed about the sibling as he registered that his sister was no longer in his grasp. The lace of shadow that had ran over her face was gone, the other two flicking violently as Stian's deathly gaze landed upon her protector. If she made it out alive, she'd have to thank and apologize to Absi for her previous behavior. She could then feel the eyes so full of hatred upon her, her fingers rising to dig into the material that covered Absi as she gave an involuntary whimper. And then suddenly, the rage that filled the hovel all but disappeared as the gaunt male before them cleared his throat and gave the jerkin he wore a tug, those tendrils of shadows disappearing.  

"Pardon, good ser, I didn't realize my dear sister had company with her." Stian then gave a flourish and bowed, crooked grin revealing his equally crooked teeth, "I am Kievan of the Nightblades, and would like to make your acquaintance. Come sister, introduce this man before us like a polite host should. I'd wish to know how my sister managed to catch such a handsome knight." His gaze flickered dangerously at her before returning to her wall of protection. "My poor sister seems to have misplaced her manners," he chuckled darkly. His words were like spiders to the woman, their legs leaving the itchy feeling upon her flesh. She wanted to warn the man, to tell him not to trust the faked politeness her brother practiced. Above all else, she wanted to flee, to let her legs take over and spirither away from this place. But nothing could get her to move, words stuck in her throat. And so she clung to the mercenary like a lifeline as fear kept her from action. 

From his position, the Mercenary could tell she was nervous because of how her brow became drenched with sweat. When the woman yelped, the Mercenary raised his brow no more than a centimeter and then lowered it as there was a clattering sound. He winced inwardly and gave a mental snort before the woman clenched to him in fear. When the dagger was pressed against into the hand of the Mercenary, he shifted and curled his hidden digits around said dagger and held it in its position while his digits flicked along the hilt and he soon pressed the face of the blade against his wrist. He sucked in a deep breath and then released it with a shake of his head.

The man made sure to take not of the rage within the one who announced himself to be the brother of the woman that stood behind him now. But what kind of family member would attack one another? More or less speak to someone with such malice? If Absi was a man of justice, he would surly step forward and slay the beastly man with no hesitation! Sadly, this was not the case. The only reason he stood as a protector was because she owed him coin. His nostrils flared and he released a deep breath of air, just as the lace of shadow vanished from his side and then the two flicked as his own eyes met Stian's. He would hold the gaze until the man looked away, and then the woman grasped at the material of his cloak. He looked back at the woman and gave a faint smile, moments before his ears picked up the sound of the male clearing his throat and tugging away the tendrils of shadows.

When the unknown male spoke to the Mercenary, he narrowed his eyes, and then removed all forms of emotions from his face. He didn't trust him; didn't trust anyone he just met, to be honest. He knew he'd have to approach with caution. All of the people of this land were characters in their own stories. And, in this area, most would do anything to get their way. He shifted his footing and distributed his weight evenly throughout his body. The male spoke to him, but the Mercenary did not respond. He seemed to have some manners to him, but to not have noticed the tall person standing behind the smaller one? Could those words be true? Perhaps the male was simply ignoring the towering figure. Either way, it didn't really matter at this point. When Stain bowed and announced his name, the Mercenary locked his gaze and listened. Kievan of the Nightbades?


When the comment on his looks came, the Mercenary did whatever he could to prevent himself from snorting. Flattery would get this male nowhere. He was clearly 'trying too hard.' The Mercenary then noticed the dangerous gaze, but did not act, nor did he display any form of defense.  When the woman clung to him once more, he sighed and said, "It is clear she fears you. Why? I have no idea, nor do I care. But I am here for a reason, so whatever business you have with her, I suggest you wait your turn. Once my business is completed, you are free to do as you will, but as for now, she and I are in one another's care. To say she has forgotten her manners is an insult to yourself as well. Who shows their family issues to guest? Who barges into someone's house unannounced?" He shook his head and held his ground for the moment, unsure of how he should go about handling this situation. 

A smile stretched upon his face at the man's inquiry, he was an odd fellow indeed. Asking questions that they didn't care about obviously showed that they did care in the end, but would Stian divulge the reasonings as to why? Of course he would; the man was more than happy to give out reasons as to why one should fear him. He didn't become one of the lieutenants of the Nightblades for nothing. It was literally his job to dissuade people from interfering with the business of the gamg he helped run, even if that meant giving away money to make people turn a blind eye. "If you must know, Kuerina fears me because of who I am, but truthfully, you wouldn't care to know since you look like you aren't from around here, nor do you look like you care to stay for long in this city." A hand rose to comb back the dark, inky locks of his back from his face, causing the woman behind the mercenary to shiver as her brother's eyes landed upon her again. They looked like they glowed inthe dark, malice illuminating their depths. "As for your business, by all means, please conclude it. I would be more than willing to wait."

He placed a hand upon his torso, other arm sweeping out as he bowed slightly, eyes upon Absi as he did. Kuerina, however, didn't wish to walk further into the room, knowing all to well that the gold at the end of it would be the last she would ever have as well as her last breath. But maybe if she kept the taller man between her and the thug, she could get out alive. Or she could tell Absi where she kept it all, let him have it all. It would be fair in exchange for her life and it wouldn't be hard to make it all back. Yes. That would be the best course of action, to tell the location of the gold and flee like the terrified rabbit she was. To accentuate the choice of her decision, the piebald crow she kept in her company gave off a "kaw!", letting her know he was near if she needed him.

Steeling her resolve, her fingers tightened upon the cloak of her current protector before giving the fabric a light tug, "the gold is under the floorboard next to the bed, the one with the hole in it. You can have it all, I don't care. Just please let me go now, before he does something worse." She whispered weakly. She could almost feel the tears filling her eyes. She needed to get back to the Dancing Hare now. To finally tell all to the man that had saved her life before. She had all she needed.

"After you two are done, I'd like to speak to you, ser knight."

The Mercenary took note of the smile that stretched upon the face of the man before him. It caused his eyes to narrow, but that was the only form of emotion he wished to display at this point in time. He shook his head after a while and then rolled his shoulders back and then forward after he parted his lips and released a small breath of air. Just what had he gotten himself into? Perhaps it was too late to turn his back to the situation? He doubted this. If things got heavy, he was prepared to fight; prepared to crush those around him. After all, he was not born to be a coward. He was trained mentally, physically, and spiritually. He rolled his shoulders back and then slid his feet apart more than they had been; spreading his feet allowed him to distribute his weight more evenly.  Once the motion had been completed, he allowed his blue-green globes to dance their way along the length of the male's frame. The Mercenary studied his current target from head to toe in a matter of moments. This was done to allow the man the chance to size up the opponent by seeing how he held him self for the time being. Of course, he did not wish to draw attention to the action, so he made it as quick as possible. Who would think him smart enough to gain some form of insight via such a quick glance?

At this point in time, his hands rested at his sides; digits only shifted to curl and mold the shape of his thigh while his nostrils flared.  "If you must know, Kuerina fears me because of who I am, but truthfully, you wouldn't care to know since you look like you aren't from around here, nor do you look like you care to stay for long in this city." The words flowed into the Mercenary's ears and clung to the back of his mind while he shifted to sway his right arm forward and then back. The motion was only followed by the back and forth rocking he did using the balls of his feet. Had he passed judgement upon Absi? Had he decided who the man was based upon the way he stood before him during this time? He tapered his gaze once more and then cocked his cranium backwards so that his blue-green globes elevated towards the ceiling while strands of his white-blonde hair came to frame his face. He shook his head and said, "An interesting observation." But was it true? Absi knew well it had not been; he knew that he liked this area for there was always someone here to do business; there was always some one here to take care of.  As the man raised a hand to comb back his dark locks, and then gave the Mercenary the 'order' to complete his business, the man shrugged and turned to glance over his shoulder. His eyes settled onto the woman that gripped his cloak and he tilted his head.

When the man placed a hand upon his torso, he seemed to forget about the woman that stood behind him. His lips fully parted and he drew in a deep breath of air while he shifted his body left and right in the form of a sway.  He then clenched his jaws together while he allowed a smile to take place onto his lips. When the woman told him where the gold was located, he said, "You are just going to give it away like that?" He arched a brow and slowly stepped in the direction the woman moved. His hands fell at his sides and relaxed as he moved forward - stride wide, but steps slow as he goes. His eyes were forever shifting as he studied the scene before him. Upon reaching the location, he reached down and looked for the sack of gold she said was there. If it had not been there, and more than twenty gold, he would send a glare at the woman, and would leave her to her doom. However, if the gold had been there, he would return to his position between the brother and the sister; eyes locked onto the male before him. "Can I trust that this is the full amount, if not more than we agreed? If it is, you are free to go. If it is not and you leave, I will find you again." He then locked his gaze fully onto the male and shifted to shake his head while he said, "And what business could you possibly have with me?"

As Absi left Kuerina by the door to find the gold she promised him, she could feel the eyes of Stian upon her, leaving her with the feeling of vulnerability. She didn't like it, couldn't stand the feel of loathing his eyes held for her. Why didn't he just stay dead, hidden from her for they rest of her days of living? It would have made things so much easier for the both of them. But no, Stian wasn't for giving up his hate; he wished for revenge for something he caused upon himself. How was tormenting her a sense of justice? Instead of giving him the satisfaction of her discomfort being visible, Kuerina watched Absi retrieve the satchel of gold she had told him of, watched him return to being the shield against the prying eyes of her kin. 

She gave a desperate nod as the tall man directed his attention towards her, "I swear it. All that I have is in there, and it is a great deal more than what we agreed." She edged towards the door, glancing over to her brother, a sneer spread over his visage. "You'll let me go now, right?" Her eyes turned back towards Absi. 

"Leave us, sister." Stian raised a hand and flicked it in a gesture to show that she was free to go. He was starting to tire of her timidness. He wanted to make a business deal with the man before him and needed her presence to be absent. Kuerina didn't hesitate to flee once Stian gave the order, disappearing through the door and into the night, shadows engulfing her form as she made her escape. Waiting a few ticks after the woman had left, the sibling left over clasped his hands behind his back before clearing his throat, deathly blue eyes settled upon Absi.

"Now, I assume that you are a man open for hire, yes?" Stian became less free on the expressions he allowed to form upon his face, stoic now that the form of his torture was gone and he had business to attend to. "If so, I would like to have the pleasure in offering you a long, well paying job. It wouldn't be too difficult, I assure you. Just a little harassing of people here and there." He then cocked his head to the left, "would you care to hear the details?"

[Kuerina exits]

The Mercenary stood his ground with ease; digits only curled themselves around the sack of gold that sat within his grasp. He hm'd to himself, thought something, and began to bounce the sack within his palm. He could hear the clattering of the heavy coins, and based upon its weight, he could tell it was as she said: a nice snack for him, more than he asked for initially.. He shook his head and then attached the sack-o'-coins to the correct location, then placed his hands onto his sides with ease. And then he was in the correct position to be the woman's shield. If this was more than the amount of money he asked for, he would find it a fine opportunity to at least protect the woman until she was gone, after all, her fear of this man... her brother, was clearly written upon her visage. He could tell she was not enjoying her time here.

The Mercenary watched as the woman took her leave upon the order of her brother; shadows seemed to engulf her frame. The both of them were shadow users, eh? They could either make an outstanding team, or a bad one, should they ever stand with one another in battle. After all, they probably had similar weaknesses. Regardless, that wasn't the topic of importance at this very moment in time. The topic of importance was the fact there was a man before him, offering him a job. He knew better than to trust someone he just met, so if anything went wrong, he'd put all of his skills to the test and would strike out and hunt the both of them. Of course, this emotion had not been written on his face. 


He clasped his digits against one another and altered his stance slightly. This allowed him to draw the male's appearance fully into his view. Absi seemed relaxed, but he was always prepared for the words. His lips parted and he articulated, "You have my interest. But of course, I'd like to know the amount we will be discussing before hand." In truth, money spoke to Absi, though none truly knew that. He was a man of wealth, yet he wanted to prove he could earn his own without his family's help. "Do share."

As it has been six weeks since this thread has been posted in, it is now closed.