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Bloodhounds
Thu Nov 16, 2006 20:26
209.213.238.160 (XFF: 192.168.1.3)

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. However, Lysander did not drink heavily from his tankard, nor did he intend to. Alcohol would dutifully lower one’s inhibitions, would loosen the tongue and slacken the face, and it would do worse. It would impede one’s skill. It would take prowess and turn it into a warm, hazy, saccharine-bubbled mess. It would ruin the assassination.

And, were it not necessary in order to maintain his cover, Lysander did not doubt that he would not have ordered the drink at all.

Zander listed off his various observations, and they seemed sensible enough, suffice to say. He was keen in pointing out exits, which most certainly was a benefit. Lysander had no intention to assassinate someone in such a public place, but knowing one’s exit was a useful tidbit indeed. He made a correct observation of the innkeeper: Master Fengwil did carry a rather primitive club that, should the need for its use arrive, would be skilfully wielded. Clubs, put simply, hurt. Amusingly, Zander found it likely that the archetypal “flip-skirt” among the serving maids would be the best person from whom they could extract information. A sound theory within the confines of postulation, but utterly useless in practice. Why would anyone confide information in such a dismally ditsy woman? They could extract the world from her, but who would be silly enough to confide the world in her to begin with?

Fortunately for him, however, there was no need to extract information in the least. The Spies had already bequeathed upon him the information regarding tonight’s mark-du-jour, and all was already known that needed to be known. Preparation was everything. Lysander did not enjoy the practice of extracting information, anyway. He had seen things enough in his lifetime to assume a moral opposition to all forms of torture, and evoking knowledge from Master Fengwil of all people would undoubtedly involve such. The Shadow preserve him, but it would be considered ironic that a man of Lysander’s station–a Dreadlord murderer who authorized and invoked death with his each passing breath–should have scruples. He did, though. He was human enough to have them.

“Ronan has instructed you well, Lexan,” Lysander mused, taking a faux-sip from his ale. “The woman has instructed numerous pupils, myself included, and her placement as the Assassin Track Leader will be missed.” Upon his first meeting with the Track Leaders during which Ronan was absent, Lysander had wasted no time in declaring the idiot woman a runaway and bestowing the role upon Eugen Singh, a man competent enough to perform the duty with skill while inexpert enough to do so without abusing the benefits of his position. Ronan’s absence and the sudden lack of her records within the Black Tower administrative buildings could not go sans notice. He would be having a chat with Jostayn Roen very soon, he did not doubt.

He took another sip, returning the unenjoyable amber fluid to his mug through his lips with a subtle flair. “Tonight, though, we will not be concerned with Ronan Letifer. I would like to ask you if you understand what the term ‘propaganda of the deed’ means. Are you a political deviant? An anarchist, per se?”

If Zander appeared to understand the significance of these questions, he did not show it on his face. A curious furrowing escaped his countenance, though that was it. “I do not. And I’m not those things, Oberon.”

Lysander didn’t think so, though his assumptions were worth very little in such a case. Suffice to say, if Zander Kilgas was lying, he was making an intelligent lie. Telling an authority figure that one defied authority was stoning the bull. “Propaganda of the deed is the fundamental belief that the murder of an authority figure is justifiable should it bring about social revolution. Since gaining the title of M’Hael, I have found myself reading extensively on the subject of political theory. Should a radical murder me in my sleep–something not easily accomplished, I would like to mention–he could do so with the intent to give the denizens of the Black Tower a wake-up call, informing them that the darkest hour preceding dawn has ended, and the time to revolt has come.

“The individual we will be picking off tonight has performed a murder based on the belief of propaganda of the deed. Last night, Lord Ballard Garfield, the High Seat of House Garfield, was killed in his library as he was enjoying some late-night literature. Lord Garfield has been an outspoken ally of the Black Tower since its inception, going so far as to proffer funds for supplies and to pay stipends. It’s a lamentable occurrence, but our Spies have achieved information that leads us to believe that Lord Garfield was targeted for his association to the Black Tower. It is difficult to make a dent in the Black Tower by attacking the Tower itself, which is why we believe the individual took to targeting Lord Garfield, who was relatively defenceless. To the best of our knowledge, our mark has not achieved a following, has not garnered a successful group of individuals. If he intends to oppose the Black Tower for whatever purposes–and our information states he does–he is, thus far, alone.

“The benefit of this information should not be taken for granted. If you were an Assassin without the saving grace of information granted to you by Spies, you would not know any of this. Thus, for the sake of your education, we will find out who the culprit is together. I already know the individual’s identity, but, nonetheless, we will be doing a bit of spy-work on our own. The ability to properly accumulate information and infer appropriately is a prerequisite for all Assassins. Remember that, Lexan. As we are looking for evidence to pin this murder to someone, we will begin at the locale of Lord Garfield’s murder. His manor. The identity of the mark and anything more specific regarding his or her motivations are what we intend to find. The night is young, Lexan. We depart.”

They left the Corpulent Bard; one might find it peculiar that they were leaving the inn while Lysander fully knew the murderous individual was therein. Humans were creatures of habit. Tonight, the individual would stay within the bar, and late. The pair had hours before they had to worry about tracing any murderer’s steps. Once information enough had been retrieved, they would make the kill.

Lord Garfield’s manor was not a frightfully large estate–the man owned not that level of wealth–but it was impressive nonetheless. Columns of a pure, white stone flanked the varnished-oak door, and windows (lo, how few bubbles the glass held!) were dark and lightless in the evening. The manor carried every earmark of a building now deserted, and naturally so. Lord Garfield’s manor was deserted. Upon the realization of the lord’s murder, the Queen’s Guard had had it evacuated, and all members of House Garfield as well as the retainers and the like were sent away. It was a necessity. None aside of the Black Tower’s Spies had padded its halls since– unbeknownst to anyone outside of the Black Tower itself, of course.

The entrance was made easily enough. The pair of them was quiet–no, was silent–and a doorway on the east side of the redbrick estate served as the perfect entrance. It opened up unto the kitchen, a spotless affair of white, unsullied surfaces and gleaming cookware.

“The staircase is through those doors there,” Lysander said softly, gesturing to glass-windowed doors on the room’s far right. “The library is on the second floor, ninth door on the right. That is where the murder took place, though Garfield’s body has already been evacuated to House Garfield’s personal sepulchre on the opposite side of the city. Blood evidence is still present. Elsewhere in the house may you find clues relating to the murder–documents, letters, and other telltale messages. It is possible that Garfield and his murderer may have had contact before his death. I would like you to use what intuitive prowess you have fostered in your years of life, Lexan, and see what you can discern. The house is empty, though I would still advise you to keep quietness close to your person. I will be lurking on other floors from you. If you need to use the Power, use it, but if you need to warn me of anything, seize and release saidin three times in succession. No more, no less. This will be our silent alarm.”

Smiling softly, Lysander took the door to the right, exiting unto a plain room of uses not surpassing alcohol and billiards.



OOC: We’re going to make this more like a story told between us than a copy-what-he-does kind of roleplay. ;) Feel free to uncover whatever evidence you want, taking the plot in whatever direction (within reason) you please. We’ll have some fun out of this.

  • We're Going Back Home...Dedicated Zander Kilgas, Thu Nov 16 06:29
    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 ... more
    • Bloodhounds — M'Hael Lysander, Thu Nov 16 20:26
      • Sniffing About...Dedicated Zander Kilgas, Mon Nov 20 15:37
        Zander waited expectantly for some kind of response to his statement. Whenever he had given his opinion to Ronan he had at least been given a detailed reply, no matter whether he was right or wrong... more
        • 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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