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We're Going Back Home...
Thu Nov 16, 2006 06:29
82.46.72.4 (XFF: 192.168.1.3)

Zander was taking rather a long time over his appearance this evening compared to the kind of time he usually would. On very other evening, even if he was going out to the inns near the main gates of the Black Tower, he would possibly spend ten, possibly fifteen minutes on his appearance, and most of that being his hair. But today there echoed a difference in his schedule. He was to meet M’Hael Lysander Thoth at the Traveling Yards just after sunset, and so Zander was trying to make his appearance perfect. It wasn’t that he liked Lysander, or that he felt proud to serve him. And he most certainly didn’t like or respect the man if it came to it, having had to forcibly drag several Soldiers out of a suicide mission Lysander had sent them into. He couldn’t bring himself to respect a man who sent un-seasoned men into battle. He knew it had been necessary, and he knew that he would follow the man to death just because he was the M’Hael. He just didn’t have to like it too much. It was this loathing of the man that forced Zander to make his appearance pristine. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it if he was reprimanded by Lysander for something so trivial.

It took him about two hours to get himself ready, but as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror propped against the corner of his living room, he saw that it was well worth the effort. His long hair fell in a tight braid that ended at the base of his back, shimmering in the light cast by the various tied flows of Saidin around the house. His black uniform was crisp and freshly washed and heated. It sorted perfect fold seams and not a hint of dust ruined the perfection. He sported the boots that Master al’Askel had made for him, the soft black leather polished to a gleam. And the finishing touches were the various knives about his person. Two lay with their hilts in a trouser pocket each, a little tip garnered from Ronan. Zander naturally put his hands in his pockets when relaxed or musing, and so Ronan had advised him to locate some weaponry there. Another two stiletto’s poked out from his boot-tops, and a further two were strapped to his wrists. He had grown fond of the balance and shape of the stiletto, and so had adopted it as his own. Grinning, Zander remembered that he had weaponry on order at the forge down the road, a custom-made weapon that Zander couldn’t wait to put into a test. Though that would have to wait until another day. Zander smiled at his reflection and realized that the sun was almost sequestered over the horizon, and that he should be making his way to the Traveling Yards. Throwing his cloak over his shoulders he strode from his house, all confidence and contentment.

As he leaped down the wooden steps and made his way quickly to the Traveling Yards, his thoughts turned to the one who had trained him in the skills he would be witnessing tonight. Ronan had usually made a point of seeing Zander every week or so, to give him pointers, teach him new tricks and sometimes just to talk about what being an assassin entailed. He had enjoyed their little meetings, feeling as if he was her favored pupil. He had taken her pointers to heart, and had made her laugh and smile occasionally with his unique sense of humor. But he hadn’t seen her in a while now. Zander cast his mind back with a frown and decided that it had been almost a month since he had seen her last, and it worried him no end. Zander assumed she must be absent, or it would be her duty to teach him tonight, but could think of no good reasons for such a prolonged absence. Zander didn’t know if anyone knew where she was, and hadn’t asked anyone either. No announcement had been made, but Zander was an intelligent man when he chose to be, and he knew a problem when he saw it.

It was such musings that were upon him as he entered the Traveling Yards and caught sight of Lysander. His hackles rose, but he managed to keep a friendly expression on his face. He didn’t know what it was, but something about Lysander had always been a bit off Zander thought, even before the whole Seanchan incident. He wasn’t the most imposing figure he had met, and had no discernable talents that Zander knew about. But then, he didn’t really know the man, and no one did as far as Zander knew. We shall remedy that tonight then. he thought.

“Good evening, M’Hael,” Zander intoned with a deep bow. He hated the thought of bowing at all, let alone to this man, but he forced himself to adhere to the rules of custom.

“Likewise, Dedicated. Tonight, we will be Traveling from the Black Tower, but not before we garner Illusions for ourselves. As you undoubtedly have noticed, the coats, the pins . . . they earn their own share of notice. They will not do. Have you been tested for the Talent of Illusion?”

Zander shook his head, cursing that someone of his rank had not yet been tested for such a common talent in the One Power. Another thing I shall remedy he thought with vehemence. “I have not, M’Hael.”

“Understood. I will perform Illusion on you.” Lysander informed him coolly before seizing Saidin. Zander was surprised at how much more powerful the man was compared to Zander. Not that Zander couldn’t replicate any weaves Lysander could after a few attempts. Zander had a skill for intricate weaves. It was just that Lysander was almost double Zander’s strength in Saidin. Not that the man used more than was necessary either, but even from that amount Zander could tell he was much stringer than he. Zander didn’t even really glance at the illusions that formed around the both of them. They were mere masks to be used as far as Zander was concerned, and so he ignored them as he would ignore dust clouds around his feet as he walked. He waited patiently for Lysander to continue with the lesson.

Zander listened as Lysander administered false names and his interest was piqued when Lysander mentioned Caemlyn as their destination. Other than that there was not much more to talk about before leaving, which Lysander demonstrated by turning to a man and asking for a gateway, which appeared shimmering in front of them. They both stepped through quickly and came out onto a cobbled alleyway that seemed familiar to Zander in a vague way. Lysander swiftly marched off and directed Zander to an inn that was situated nearby, jovially named the Corpulent Bard. They stepped into the warmth of fire and conversation and made their way to a table. There Lysander flagged down a serving maid before turning his attention back to Zander, who was curiously glancing around the establishment, a creeping feeling of sickly dread coming over him. The more Zander looked around, the more it grew. He had been here before once upon a time. Only once, but that once had been enough. He had completed his first ever mission here, and now time had come full circle and he was back here to be initiated fully into a fold of assassins once more.

“Welcome to the Corpulent Bard, Lexan. It is not an upstanding institution as you may have guessed. I will advise you against ordering food. While the ale is safe, the Corpulent Bard does suffer infestation issues, and they are only lucky the Black Tower plays no hand in sanitation inspection. However, our cause for the evening does not involve the Bard itself, but rather its inhabitants. One of the denizens of this pub tonight, Lexan, will die. That person will die because I will be killing them. Now, before I get into that, I would like to ask something of you. I would like observations. Anything you see. Everything you see. As much as you would like to say. I would like you to like to say everything. Speak of your surroundings. The people. Their interaction. Their behaviour. Their people. Sight and sound alone are two of your most important possessions past even daggers and Saidin and whatnot. What do you see? What can you infer? Tell.” Lysander finished with an expectant look. At that point the serving maid returned with two mugs of ale, which the both of them accepted graciously. Zander sipped on his a few times as he considered his response. Finally he sighed and began to recite that which he had been told so long ago.

“There are three exits out of this room, but one of those is to the sleeping quarters and so should only be used as a last resort. The others are more suitable, but the kitchen is the best, seeing as the door is usually always thronging and hard to reach with out being slowed by having to force your way through the crowds. There are five serving maids, and I can tell you by the way that blonde one over there smiles and teases, she would be the best one to get any information out of. The inn keeper knows how to handle himself from his posture, and probably keeps some form of weaponry behind the bar considering the part of the city we are occupying here. Most of the people in here will be reprobates who will do anything to get a bit of money, though there will undoubtedly be a few first-timers here who are honest, which is bad luck for them. If a fight breaks out for some reason, there will hardly be room enough to swing a punch let alone a weapon, and so weapons are next to useless here unless used covertly. But the conundrum is that there is no way to kill anyone whilst in this room. Everyone here is so suspicious in nature that they are watching everyone at all times. If you look, their eyes dart and their ears half-listen for threat. They are all tense, and at the first sign of steel will assume its for them and will fight. You would have to get someone alone either outside or upstairs in order to do the deed. And so I wonder why you have brought me here of all the inns that would be better suited, and believe me, there are many better suited, I know. Did I miss anything?” Zander asked Lysander or Oberon as he was known at this time. He probably had, but he thought he had got most of the key points to get. After all, it had been a while since he had had to kill in a place like this, and so mistakes were inevitable until he got back into practice.



OOC: Hope that's okay and what you were expecting. *grins*

  • Propaganda of the Deed (Andrew!)M'Hael Lysander, Wed Nov 15 19:13
    The sky was blazing in its sunset. The heavens had been tended to with the likes of tinder and kindling, and now were afire across the width and breadth of the sky. A horizon once smattered with... more
    • We're Going Back Home... — Dedicated Zander Kilgas, Thu Nov 16 06:29
      • BloodhoundsM'Hael Lysander, Thu Nov 16 20:26
        The ale was warm, flat, and borderline unpleasant altogether; had his stomach not been hardened from dinner after dinner within the Black Tower’s walls, he did not doubt that he would refuse it.... more
        • Sniffing About...Dedicated Zander Kilgas, Mon Nov 20 15:37
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          • Crouched in PatienceM'Hael Lysander, Thu Nov 23 14:43
            The house was dead as night itself. Aside of what distant sounds radiated from the floor above, made if only by a particular Dedicated, there was no noise to be accounted for. The billiard room was... more
            • A Conversation in the Darkness...Dedicated Zander Kilgas, Wed Dec 20 04:27
              Lysander walked through one of the many doors that the kitchen contained, glanced around the room once and then settled his eyes heavily on Zander. The man was, if not quite angry, then at least... more
              • A Name to a CrimeM'Hael Lysander, Thu Dec 28 14:26
                OOC: Careful that you’re accurate in your interpretation of the battle. As per the SWRP rules, everyone serving had to have had under their belt some training. That goes for OOC as well as IC. You... more
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