Kasoria’s eyes smoldered black like coal, burning holes into Oberan with their gaze. The retort came quick and was surprisingly well put together. Based in fact and logic. Yes, the thief could neither refute or deny the truth lying in Kasoria’s words. However, in the end the killer had spun just one big web of excuses. The Etzos of old would have never capitulated to an Immortal, not even if the situation was more dire than it had been during Lisirra’s assault. But Oberan knew better than to give voice to those thoughts.
And perhaps… perhaps he was wrong. Maybe the convictions of the Etzori had always been weak. The people quick to grasp the helping hand of an Immortal if the help was needed. The Etzos of old might not live up to the legends and myths. By now he should be very aware of just how deformed truth became when viewed through the lens of folk tales. They often were more fantasy than truth, based in reality, yes, but blown completely out of proportion. Embellished by each consecutive storyteller, adding layers and layers of fiction until the end result was a completely different beast.
The evidence of it was sitting across the table. While the Raggedy Man wasn’t exactly a normal man anymore –if he ever had been—he used to be a regular assassin. A damn good one, sure, but mundane. He possessed no supernatural abilities, he was not unkillable, and even his blade sometimes did fail. The picture painted by the legends and tales surrounding him showed something quite different.
“Perhaps,” Oberan shrugged. No use in arguing about it. Kas said Sintra had needed to lie and cheat and approach the city when it was down in order to get them to swallow their principles, Oberan did not disagree. However, the Spider Queen never should have gotten the chance to wreck the havoc she had. Etzos should have stood firm and refused the poisoned cup. Eighty percent of the population in the ground or not, the city should have fought tooth and nail with mortal power. Overcome its darkest hour on its own, or perish.
Ironic.
They moved on to the plan –or rather the skeleton of one, if it could even be called that. To say it was barebones understated just how little of a plan Oberan had. If anything, it was an idea. A seed that might grow into a big strong tree.
“My thoughts exactly. Plus, we need someone for the people to rally behind. Once Sintra is revealed to be… well, Sintra, the populace will be looking for a figure they can put their faith in. Pahrn would be ideal, I think.” Kasoria mentioned he might just be able to infiltrate the citadel, unwilling to make concrete promises though he was. “Oh, not to worry, Kas. If you can’t get me in legitimately, I’ll just do things my way again. We just need Pahrn in a mindset where he’s willing to hear me –us out. An official audience would be the best way to go about it.”
They discussed the Blackguard for a few moments, Kasoria considering his contacts within the organization. As before, no promises were made, but the killer seemed to have a couple avenues in mind. Oberan nodded, pleased, then looked up with wide eyes as an unexpected phrase rolled over Kasoria’s lips.
“Of course, I’d expect nothing less for saving you from such a pathetic fate.” He grimaced at the thought. “Contact, yes. Good question. As I usually work alone, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to help with that. I could ask the Resistance to set up their complicated correspondence system for us, make messages difficult to trace…”
Or perhaps he could try and do what Magpie had done, relay a message through a dream. How much would the killer retain when he woke however, now that might be an issue. Not to mention singling out the assassin’s dreamscape among those of other Etzori. Despite the fast progress made with the ability, Oberan wasn’t that proficient just yet.
A rhythmic noise caused the thief to tense. Like the tapping of claws on stone, only quicker. Either a creature that moved fast on four legs, or one with more. Oberan withdrew his table and chairs into the Vault –a few seconds of focus needed for each—and adjusted his posture, ready to disappear. Before he did, however, an important warning needed to be delivered.
“Oh, Kas. If you come across any Web Guard in your investigations, be aware that the Resistance likes to disguise themselves with stolen armor.” The tapping was louder now, closer by. Eight legs for sure, big ones too. “One last thing. If you see Magpie –Llyr—tell him there’s something strange about the farmlands around the city. Odd lines in the soil, similar to the Cube. Might be related in some way.”
Hairy legs appeared in the doorway then, followed by a hideous torso beset with a multitude of eyes. About a tall at the shoulders as a large dog, and about the same length, one of Sintra’s more monstrously sized pets scuttled into the room. There was a sense of purpose about its movements. It’s eight-fold gaze swept through the small chamber, coming to rest on Kasoria. Mandibles parted as it let out a loud hiss, front legs raised.
Then it slumped and hit the floor, legs going limp, all strength lost. Upon glancing around, Kasoria would notice Oberan had somehow managed to disappear while his attention was drawn by the arachnid, though the now-familiar effect of the thief’s wyrd suggested he was still nearby.
Either way, the large spider remained unconscious long enough for the assassin to slip past it without issue, coming to only when he’d safely retreated into an adjacent tunnel. For its part, the spider let out a hiss that might have expressed frustration when it realized the prey had escaped. Where the Raggedy Man had been standing before, the eight eyes of Sintra’s pet now saw only an empty room, filled with several dozen crushed and half-eaten bodies of its arachnid brethren.