Woe is me (Woe)

A city thrust in a land of magical corruption, where survival isn't taken for granted, Yaralon is a jewel on Eastern Idalos. It is world renown for its mercenary companies, for their spiritual culture that appears a bit backwards and counter intuitive to more "civilized" types. Yaralon is where the strong go to discover that they are anything but, and mercenaries learn that only Yari mercs are true mercs.

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Aella
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Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2019 2:45 am
Race: Human
Profession: Assassin
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Woe is me (Woe)

Wed Jan 09, 2019 9:09 pm

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100th Vhalar, 718

Where was she going?

It was rare for Aella to leave someone alive to talk about what happened, very rare. Killing her husband had been easy enough to do and the family had never known. But in the night, on her way back from somewhere, she had arrived. Aella had to leave through the window, a task that had proven harder than she had anticipated in the spur of the moment. It had been a while since she had a contract to do, someone to kill in the name of Sintra and the Harbingers. Perhaps she was out of practice, but the time she had spent away from the contracts she had spent training. Then again, her strong point had always been the fight. Traversing around was difficult, especially when it involved any level of acrobatics. She only had a basic understanding of it, after all.

As she followed the crowd through the cold streets of Yaralon the woman watched closely as the now-widow made her way to a place she was unfamiliar with. Yaralon had been her home for a while now but she had spent little time learning the streets any more than she needed to for her job. Escaping in and out of places was what mattered to her, killing her targets and leaving no trace of herself behind. While it had worked, or so she imagined it had, the woman still had to be sure. If any word of her ties to the Webspinners and her potential crimes got out there was a risk to be had. Even in a city like Yaralon. Especially in a city like Yaralon. Should someone figure out what her work entailed then she would potentially lose her life.

Eventually her target stopped, talking to a man that Aella had never seen before. Keeping her distance, the young assassin leaned back against the wall with her weapons on display at her side, two beautiful Tamo daggers together that appeared as a wooden club. Engravings covered the wood, swirling patterns that matched those on the blade. Both weapons were incredibly sharp and dangerous, well looked after despite the few Arcs she had them. Taking care of her blades was important. Weapons and gear ended up being where most of her nel went anyway, it didn't cost too much to return the blades to their best condition. Keeping her gear in good shape was important after all.

Time passed as the woman spoke to the strange man, Aella watching from the side among a small group of people who started a conversation with her. She faked her enjoyment of their talk as best she could, interacting with them while keeping a small eye on the target. But what caught her eye was no longer the woman. Whoever this man was now knew something, almost definitely. Whether it was to do with her or not was to be discovered. If she couldn't find out what he knew, however, her time in Yaralon could come to a swift end - or his. If he proved to be a threat her job would be simple. Find out where the man lived and, when he least expected it, end his life. Even if he knew of her work and planned on telling someone. Nobody would be able to find her until it was too late for him anyway.

After a long period of talking to strangers the assassin noticed her target leaving, the man still stood on his own. "Thanks for the talk" she said bluntly, cutting off a man who was explaining how he had slain a bear with his dagger and nothing else. Aella walked past them all and head towards the man, smiling a little as she did and attempting to keep her appearance calm and composed. No need to rush in to something that might not be a problem at all, better safe than sorry. "She alright?" the Webspinner asked, glancing to where the target had gone before looking back up to Woe with a look of concern - though not the kind he likely expected.

"Saw her walking on the way here. Poor girl seemed a state."

Last edited by Aella on Mon Jan 14, 2019 12:46 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 707
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Woe
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Re: Woe is me (Woe)

Fri Jan 11, 2019 8:58 am


"I don't know what happened!" Thraim's wife told Woe. She was close to tears. "I found the man in his bed, dead with dagger wounds to his back... Did he have some kind of... or... If I find out that lout was a three-hander, I'll piss on his grave!"

Lots of things to sort through, Woe thought as he regarded the wife of one of his frequent clients. He smoothed the dark leather suit he'd acquired over the past few days, otherwise giving the woman his undivided attention. Why she'd sought him out over anyone else gave him reason enough to wonder about the state of their relationship. Did she suspect him somehow? He shook his head. "Slow down, Morg." He said in as soothing and neutral a tone as he could manage.

He needed time to cool his own thoughts before he could formulate a plan to deal with this sudden loss. In truth, he had few enough people willing to confide in him in exchange for money. Mental health was something Yari were expected to deal with themselves. They did not often lean on others and were not a soft people who couldn't sort through their own problems, by and large. There were however no shortage of horrors in this city and the surrounding area. Often enough he found people who were overcome with the sheer terror that pervaded their existence. Loss was only one of the things a grief counselor had to contend with.

After a while of listening to her sort through her suspicions, Woe got the strangest feeling. It was as if a ghost from his past had whispered into his ear. A feeling he'd not experienced since last he saw Erastus, since he'd killed the bastard. Why this feeling was welling up once more was beyond him. He couldn't help but search the crowd for signs of his old master. Was it possible one of his former agents was stalking him? How on earth would he be able to sense them? This new sense was something he'd only just noticed and come to associate with the slaver that had raised him. It didn't occur to him that there might be more to that feeling than a lingering respect and admiration for one more experienced than he.

He shrugged it off. It could have been the subject of his current conversation that was triggering these feelings. He set them to the side for the moment. "Listen, I don't think he was cheating on you. Thraim had many faults, I won't deny, but his devotion to you is beyond question."

"Then who? Who stabs a man in his bed without a proper challenge or reason? Why?" The situation reduced Morg to tears, as she smacked Woe's chest with the base of her balled up fists. He let her take out her frustrations on him, for a few moments, before grasping her wrists and shaking them. "You need to look to your children now, and make sure their path does his end credit, however that end found him. You can find your own justice in time."

Her shoulders slumped, as she turned away, wrenching her wrists free of his grasp with ease. "Now I make my way alone. Whatever coward did this, I will have their hide for lanternshades."

Woe watched her go, sighing to himself. His words had been rather weak by his own estimation, but he didn't know Morg all that well beyond a few meetings in the company of her husband. But he was confident she'd be able to sort through it. She was the sronger spirit of the couple.

Still, that nagging feeling that had troubled him earlier occurred to him, growing stronger. He scanned the crowd once more. Nobody stood out. Everyone was armed, and didn't look Rynmerish.

He given a start when someone surprised him from his flank, asking after Morg. "Why do you ask?" He said, turning to this new woman. The feeling of familiarity was very strong then, but he still couldn't identify it. He scanned the crowd beyond the woman, and finally shrugged. He gave the woman his full attention, then. "Is she a friend of yours?"

Then she explained that she saw her walking in a state. Woe nodded, "Yes, her husband was killed under odd circumstances. Most Yari seek to settle their disputes in an arranged duel. While fairness is hardly necessary, awareness of a deadly challenge is often an expectation. To be robbed of a clean death... well I'm not exactly sure how the Yari look on that." He turned to nod at the retreating form of Morg, "But she seemed not to take it very well. She's on her own until she manages to find another husband."

The idea of marriage prompted Woe to grip the metal scourge at his side in a subconscious expression of apprehension. "Anyway, what brings you to this square?" He wondered why the woman showed such concern over a stranger, if indeed Morg was. Perhaps the woman was shopping at the nearby merchants, or seeking training at the temple of Raskalarn. Or even an acolyte. It just wasn't often that people spoke to Woe out of turn, to make small talk. What did this woman want? And why was he having that nagging feeling of familiarity?
word count: 916
Retired, feel free to npc/wrap-up plots/murderize this pc.
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