A small incident in the bazaar had two heavily armoured guards surrounding her and another close by; one hard, one soft, all annoying. For what? Because she had taken out a small blade to slice an annoying beetle, that had dodged her attempt at a boot-stomping. She had placed her blade soon enough back to its belt hook. Overreaction of the hardheads once again.
As if she would inadvertently or accidently injure a passer by with the blade like some untrained novice. No, if her blade or arrow was loosened now to pierce insect or flesh...it would be for purpose and with intention, preferably for payment.
Lyra Fereth
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
She followed a mark for about an hour. She saw him in the bazaar, padded through the streets keeping well behind but lost him for a while until they crossed paths again coming from different streets. He entered the Hall of Records and she took to the shadows to wait. Her assumption proved correct, he did not linger or head off to the outlands. She trailed him carefully to the ice plane, keeping close to the shadows of the glaciers, taking note of his weaponery and skillset as best she could from her distance then stalked him returning to the bazaar of the Cage and took up a position some distance away but in earshot, though well away from the thoroughfare.
But there was more to do and on spur of the moment she slipped a note to a passerby, offering him jink to go talk to the potential mark, which he did readily enough - at this point any information was better than what she had so far. The little she gleaned was useful but insufficient. She had a couple more days in time yet for more recon and preparation of the storage until she was due to deliver the package.
But there was more to do and on spur of the moment she slipped a note to a passerby, offering him jink to go talk to the potential mark, which he did readily enough - at this point any information was better than what she had so far. The little she gleaned was useful but insufficient. She had a couple more days in time yet for more recon and preparation of the storage until she was due to deliver the package.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
She had not seen Baby-face around in a long while now. With the order only two-thirds completed, her hope for future reward for task unlikely, she knew this job for the imp's master was her best route for now for good payment, nice jink and opportunity in a way she could handle. As much as she disliked dealing with that 'tiny-gargoyle-of-a-Baatezu' it was a means to an end and she rather not ask too many questions, better not to know.
Hatred and purpose were her bedfellows, friendships few and where a teasing grin, a poke in the ribs, a distracting kiss or an easy companionship on a hunt managed to drag her out of the dark on occasion, she was certain she would get there.
******
She named it Mach.
It was, she determined, young...its rangy thin body and large paws suggested a yearling, perhaps a bit more.
She had pierced the heart of that dryad without qualm, killed three of the wolves in her rapid fire but that fourth had lain whimpering with one of Lyra's arrows pierced through a hindleg. It was alot smaller than the others, a runt...a weakling...
She tended to its wound, pulling out the arrow, cleansing and bandaging it, muzzling the 'pup' so that it would keep quiet as she hid them both for afew days deep in the forest undergrowth, quietly moving out to kill smaller creatures silently to give it fresh meat, bringing water from the stream, helping it to lap, as she watched its wound slowly mend. She was not in her natural environment, but she was learning.
It chose to follow her when she finally released it, annoying her for a while as she didn't care to have a 'tail'. But the Beastlands was the best place to hunt, manageable back then. It took a few more weeks of uneasy companionship and the bare bones of a trust was established, enough to allow the guarding while she dozed in that tree, enough to have it allow her to join its hunt and aid its kill to eat. No longer in pack, choosing to run alone she helped it gain a healthier shape until it was better at fending for itself. But....their relationship was nothing like what she had seen between Black-scars and that panther. It was reluctant to leave the Beastlands and she did not have alot of time to spend in that plane.
A lesson best learned alone.... it had been nigh on 90 years ago since she had last befriended animal...her father's companion...was such a skill really lost with a hard urban existence, or was that something inherited? She had still to find out and try to make time to do so.
Hatred and purpose were her bedfellows, friendships few and where a teasing grin, a poke in the ribs, a distracting kiss or an easy companionship on a hunt managed to drag her out of the dark on occasion, she was certain she would get there.
******
She named it Mach.
It was, she determined, young...its rangy thin body and large paws suggested a yearling, perhaps a bit more.
She had pierced the heart of that dryad without qualm, killed three of the wolves in her rapid fire but that fourth had lain whimpering with one of Lyra's arrows pierced through a hindleg. It was alot smaller than the others, a runt...a weakling...
She tended to its wound, pulling out the arrow, cleansing and bandaging it, muzzling the 'pup' so that it would keep quiet as she hid them both for afew days deep in the forest undergrowth, quietly moving out to kill smaller creatures silently to give it fresh meat, bringing water from the stream, helping it to lap, as she watched its wound slowly mend. She was not in her natural environment, but she was learning.
It chose to follow her when she finally released it, annoying her for a while as she didn't care to have a 'tail'. But the Beastlands was the best place to hunt, manageable back then. It took a few more weeks of uneasy companionship and the bare bones of a trust was established, enough to allow the guarding while she dozed in that tree, enough to have it allow her to join its hunt and aid its kill to eat. No longer in pack, choosing to run alone she helped it gain a healthier shape until it was better at fending for itself. But....their relationship was nothing like what she had seen between Black-scars and that panther. It was reluctant to leave the Beastlands and she did not have alot of time to spend in that plane.
A lesson best learned alone.... it had been nigh on 90 years ago since she had last befriended animal...her father's companion...was such a skill really lost with a hard urban existence, or was that something inherited? She had still to find out and try to make time to do so.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Lyra noted that the man was wary, he kept looking around as if he knew he was being followed, but wasn't quite sure. Silently she followed him, pleased when he took path to the Hive but pursed her lips, gripping her bow carefully in both hands as she crept close behind. ...a little further... she thought as he turned corner by the Tattoo parlour, hopeful he was not intending to stop for one of the jinkskirts or else this kidnapping was off, she did not intend to involve one of those girls.
But he did carry on and stepped through the portal to the mists of the Ethereal plane. Lyra followed close behind.
She notched her arrow, aimed and fired but she cursed inwardly as her first did not pierce enough to stun and paralyze and she reached for a second...third and fired the two in quick succession, attempting to wound now to bring him down. Her arrow tips were coated in the poison drug but they would take a while for it to take effect, and while she was bringing more arrow forward, the man retaliated, with spell protection and attack of his own before she could slip to hide again she took injury from his weapon and spellwork. She had to get him before he turned back to the portal. Fitting two more to her bow, her arms weakening rapidly at her own injuries, she came to the open, hopeful that the mists swirling about her would confuse her prey as to her precise location until her arrows had found their mark...one to the thigh to stop him from walking, the other to the upper arm to weaken him from raising weapon against her...and there she had it...he slumped to the ground.
His breathing was laboured, but he was alive.
She slung her bow over her shoulder, taking out a length of rope from her pack, she knelt upon the man's chest, shifting his weight over as best she could to grip his arms behind his back, binding his wrists with the rope. She tended her own wounds as she waited for the drug to take affect and also healed the worst of his wounds so that he didn't bleed to death. He was groggy when he came to, and she had to stuff cloth into his mouth when he slurred out a confused question.
She pulled and nudged with all her weight to get him to his feet. Another cantrip had him hidden from easy sight and she led him slowly, herself hidden though holding tight to him and his bonds, to that back alley court. She had prepared the cellar a day ago and checking the area was clear, she pushed him forward after opening the doors. The stairs were steep and the man stumbled, falling in, tumbling limply, making a loud racket. Lyra let go of the rope so as not to be pulled down by his weight, but turned to shut the cellar doors behind after peering out checking the courtyard empty. Loudnoises were commonplace this close to the market and the noise did not stir any to investigate.
She swiftly skipped down the steps to retrieve the fallen rope and pressed him with her body weight towards the wall where there was metal ring in the wall to tie him. She tied another cloth around his face to ensure the cloth gag stayed in and kept him quiet for when the drug wore off.
Satisfied, she stepped back, crouched down some feet away to assess the results of her handiwork. He looked securely tied, she thought, unless he proved to be alot stronger than he looked.
She double-checked his bonds, tightening them, leaving his legs free however to enable him to sit to the floor. Finally, she moved back and headed to the stairs and after ensuring the alley court was clear, she batoned down the cellar doors behind her leaving the cellar in darkness, filled only now with his soft painful muffled moans.
She returned once each day prior to the agreed delivery date to cut and drug him again, to remove his gag and give him water to drink once he was calm and groggy again. She noted little sign of any good attempt to free himself during her absence. This task had proven easier than she had thought. She had gotten lucky with Skald-the-Unlucky....and she knew it.
But he did carry on and stepped through the portal to the mists of the Ethereal plane. Lyra followed close behind.
She notched her arrow, aimed and fired but she cursed inwardly as her first did not pierce enough to stun and paralyze and she reached for a second...third and fired the two in quick succession, attempting to wound now to bring him down. Her arrow tips were coated in the poison drug but they would take a while for it to take effect, and while she was bringing more arrow forward, the man retaliated, with spell protection and attack of his own before she could slip to hide again she took injury from his weapon and spellwork. She had to get him before he turned back to the portal. Fitting two more to her bow, her arms weakening rapidly at her own injuries, she came to the open, hopeful that the mists swirling about her would confuse her prey as to her precise location until her arrows had found their mark...one to the thigh to stop him from walking, the other to the upper arm to weaken him from raising weapon against her...and there she had it...he slumped to the ground.
His breathing was laboured, but he was alive.
She slung her bow over her shoulder, taking out a length of rope from her pack, she knelt upon the man's chest, shifting his weight over as best she could to grip his arms behind his back, binding his wrists with the rope. She tended her own wounds as she waited for the drug to take affect and also healed the worst of his wounds so that he didn't bleed to death. He was groggy when he came to, and she had to stuff cloth into his mouth when he slurred out a confused question.
She pulled and nudged with all her weight to get him to his feet. Another cantrip had him hidden from easy sight and she led him slowly, herself hidden though holding tight to him and his bonds, to that back alley court. She had prepared the cellar a day ago and checking the area was clear, she pushed him forward after opening the doors. The stairs were steep and the man stumbled, falling in, tumbling limply, making a loud racket. Lyra let go of the rope so as not to be pulled down by his weight, but turned to shut the cellar doors behind after peering out checking the courtyard empty. Loudnoises were commonplace this close to the market and the noise did not stir any to investigate.
She swiftly skipped down the steps to retrieve the fallen rope and pressed him with her body weight towards the wall where there was metal ring in the wall to tie him. She tied another cloth around his face to ensure the cloth gag stayed in and kept him quiet for when the drug wore off.
Satisfied, she stepped back, crouched down some feet away to assess the results of her handiwork. He looked securely tied, she thought, unless he proved to be alot stronger than he looked.
She double-checked his bonds, tightening them, leaving his legs free however to enable him to sit to the floor. Finally, she moved back and headed to the stairs and after ensuring the alley court was clear, she batoned down the cellar doors behind her leaving the cellar in darkness, filled only now with his soft painful muffled moans.
She returned once each day prior to the agreed delivery date to cut and drug him again, to remove his gag and give him water to drink once he was calm and groggy again. She noted little sign of any good attempt to free himself during her absence. This task had proven easier than she had thought. She had gotten lucky with Skald-the-Unlucky....and she knew it.
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*Pashan01
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The imp couldn't see the man 'hidden' close beside her, her cantrip effective against its beady sight. It snarled at her, asking if the deed was done and flapped its leather wings to move closer.
A tap upon the cobbles and a figure appeared, masked, robed and with staff. Lyra recognised the figure from the image the imp had passed to her many weeks ago. So this was its master. It seemed he could see the Skald even if the imp could not.
She passed the short length of rope she held to the flying Baatzu along with a note of her required enchantment and was tossed a few coin pouches in return. The masked man instructed her to keep her distance and once he had read her note, Lyra left him the item upon which enchantment was to be made, albeit a little reluctant to have it from her sight she had little choice.
For now, she thought it best to go along with the instructions and, as such, she made no move to follow when the three moved on from the alley way, shooting the imp a final glare before she slipped to the shadows and headed back in the direction of the market.
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*cryptc
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Agis had for a few days suspected he was being followed, although he never got a good look at the woman following me, other than seeing it was an elven female. This day he was overcome with a bad feeling in the bazaar as he felt he was being watched again.
Quickly he slipped from the bazaar hoping to lose her in the crowd, moving quickly and decisively, but not running. When he reached the hive he felt like he might still be followed, so he quickly opened up the nearest portal and went in. As it closed a short while later he sighed in relief, thinking she had lost her.
Agis was just trying to figure out the next move to make when he felt an arrow hit him, only barely missing vital nerves. Panicking he quickly drew his weapons and concentrated on rune magic, the most powerful available to him, to try banish the archer standing not too far from him.
His extremely loud spell affected her, making her distracted momentarily, but not stopping her from firing off arrow after arrow at him. He ran up to her, striking glancing blows with his blade.
Then she withdrew into the shadows, disappearing, and he wondered if he might have chased her off, but before finishing the thought, another arrow struck him painfully.
Agis drew the most potent item in his arsenal, an item that would turn harmless song into powerful lifedraining magic around himself. He chanted the magic from the scroll, and the elven female seemed sorely wounded from its effect.
As she withdrew into the shadows once again he started using magic to heal his wounds, but no sooner had he begun than the arrows started appearing again. This time they did not miss their intended marks, and he quickly fell, unable to stay conscious any longer.
The next few days were blurry memories of being pulled around and tied up...
Quickly he slipped from the bazaar hoping to lose her in the crowd, moving quickly and decisively, but not running. When he reached the hive he felt like he might still be followed, so he quickly opened up the nearest portal and went in. As it closed a short while later he sighed in relief, thinking she had lost her.
Agis was just trying to figure out the next move to make when he felt an arrow hit him, only barely missing vital nerves. Panicking he quickly drew his weapons and concentrated on rune magic, the most powerful available to him, to try banish the archer standing not too far from him.
His extremely loud spell affected her, making her distracted momentarily, but not stopping her from firing off arrow after arrow at him. He ran up to her, striking glancing blows with his blade.
Then she withdrew into the shadows, disappearing, and he wondered if he might have chased her off, but before finishing the thought, another arrow struck him painfully.
Agis drew the most potent item in his arsenal, an item that would turn harmless song into powerful lifedraining magic around himself. He chanted the magic from the scroll, and the elven female seemed sorely wounded from its effect.
As she withdrew into the shadows once again he started using magic to heal his wounds, but no sooner had he begun than the arrows started appearing again. This time they did not miss their intended marks, and he quickly fell, unable to stay conscious any longer.
The next few days were blurry memories of being pulled around and tied up...
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*Pashan01
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When the man she'd been stalking fell upon the icey slopes after a battle of magic and metal, she hid from sight and slipped down the hill, this was not her battle, she cared for neither of them. He would surely not be caring for the creature again and so she lifted the bundle to her arms, the sound of faint purring muffled by heavy wool blanket.
Did she like cats? The answer to that in her mind though she had given no answer as such was.....she used to.....although much larger than the one he carried about.
She had allowed the flame of her bow to warm them both for a short time, only after he had showed her the cat, even built small fire then to leave the animal warmer while she attempted to ask him to join her in this 'ride'. That was until another had passed by, was caught unprepared to a giant's blow and revival attempts were followed by mistrust and male rash behaviours.
Apparently he hadn't died and took exception to her carrying the bundle away when he caught up with her in the streets of the Cage. She handed it back, with regret.
Did she like cats? The answer to that in her mind though she had given no answer as such was.....she used to.....although much larger than the one he carried about.
She had allowed the flame of her bow to warm them both for a short time, only after he had showed her the cat, even built small fire then to leave the animal warmer while she attempted to ask him to join her in this 'ride'. That was until another had passed by, was caught unprepared to a giant's blow and revival attempts were followed by mistrust and male rash behaviours.
Apparently he hadn't died and took exception to her carrying the bundle away when he caught up with her in the streets of the Cage. She handed it back, with regret.
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*Pashan01
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She heard sounds coming from below and after picking out her arrows embedded within the two headed ogre she edged quietly down the stairs, staying, naturally to the shadows hidden. There were two, one was familiar to her and she watched them closely. At one point, she thought he could sense she was there as she followed them. They trapsed noisily through the caverns to the underpart of the tower, Lyra heard the heavy breathing and cracking of claw of three umberhulks loitering around a corner, preparing to attack and she snuck around to come up on them from the rear. Arrows loosened and she was upon them just as they begun to attack the couple.
She slipped to the shadows as the pair swiftly finished the beasts off but was not quick enough. She'd been seen. Still hidden by shadows, a tug to the cloak, a light finger to a pair of lips, her way of asking the one not to reveal who she was to the other. When the heavy armoured warrior naturally took umbrage at being stalked, quizzing the lighterfooted companion, Lyra took off again, hurrying along the edges, deep to the shadow intent on leaving, annoyed with the one, sure that she might be given away, her hunt having been disturbed by a lumbering bulk of brightly coloured metal...the dancing feet of one she would have enjoyed. But it was not to be.
But she didn't stay annoyed for long. She had placed trust and it had been rewarded. He had not told. Indeed his description, when a touch piqued she had asked him whether he liked Metal-girl had made her laugh, though as ever, no sound parted her lips, her shoulders lifted in amusement. She mimicked in mime her vision of his depiction of the girl, walking a few steps as if she had a rod stuck up her... and the laughter had been mutual. This time, just before she left, she allowed her lips to brush his cheek, firing both up instantly to his usual blush.
****
She scowled once more at the imp as he passed her the parcel that was her tunic armour, complete with enchantment, receiving the usual snarl in return. The imp's finger carved small tear in the air, muttered a few words of infernal and slipped through.
****
She slipped to the shadows as the pair swiftly finished the beasts off but was not quick enough. She'd been seen. Still hidden by shadows, a tug to the cloak, a light finger to a pair of lips, her way of asking the one not to reveal who she was to the other. When the heavy armoured warrior naturally took umbrage at being stalked, quizzing the lighterfooted companion, Lyra took off again, hurrying along the edges, deep to the shadow intent on leaving, annoyed with the one, sure that she might be given away, her hunt having been disturbed by a lumbering bulk of brightly coloured metal...the dancing feet of one she would have enjoyed. But it was not to be.
But she didn't stay annoyed for long. She had placed trust and it had been rewarded. He had not told. Indeed his description, when a touch piqued she had asked him whether he liked Metal-girl had made her laugh, though as ever, no sound parted her lips, her shoulders lifted in amusement. She mimicked in mime her vision of his depiction of the girl, walking a few steps as if she had a rod stuck up her... and the laughter had been mutual. This time, just before she left, she allowed her lips to brush his cheek, firing both up instantly to his usual blush.
****
She scowled once more at the imp as he passed her the parcel that was her tunic armour, complete with enchantment, receiving the usual snarl in return. The imp's finger carved small tear in the air, muttered a few words of infernal and slipped through.
****
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Once more the spell of a bard caught her attention.
Her finger pointed to the lute, a silent request for a melody, a nod of encouragement for her to join him when she brought out her flute, her own accompaniment was poor...but he had compensated for her performance, lifted and guided the music....he was by far the better player....and she enjoyed it...indeed it reminded her of a time with a bleak elf bard and a savage halfling a long while ago in the Inn.
She had seen this cousin negiotiating with the githzerai in the market and had paused in the shadows to observe, fascinated by his carrying of lute, those black-lined eyes and colourful attire, later to catch him up and make her request for a tune..he had been eager to oblidge.
Sweet sweet music. They'd strolled in the same direction but she had returned to the parlour noting that he was heading further on, seemingly enjoying the rain that made her grimace and she lifted her hand in a farewell wave.
Her finger pointed to the lute, a silent request for a melody, a nod of encouragement for her to join him when she brought out her flute, her own accompaniment was poor...but he had compensated for her performance, lifted and guided the music....he was by far the better player....and she enjoyed it...indeed it reminded her of a time with a bleak elf bard and a savage halfling a long while ago in the Inn.
She had seen this cousin negiotiating with the githzerai in the market and had paused in the shadows to observe, fascinated by his carrying of lute, those black-lined eyes and colourful attire, later to catch him up and make her request for a tune..he had been eager to oblidge.
Sweet sweet music. They'd strolled in the same direction but she had returned to the parlour noting that he was heading further on, seemingly enjoying the rain that made her grimace and she lifted her hand in a farewell wave.
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*Pashan01
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The sight of that greenleaf, after so many weeks without seeing it, caused her grin to broaden. But he looked gaunt and haggard. She approached and leant in to form a few words, mindful of others nearby....one section of the walled bar area was amass with bright wildflowers and a girl was tempting those present to buy, another couple of males settling differences at an end of what seemed like a streetbrawl...
"Where the sod have you been?" but her eyes were bright, and her lips still bore that grin, she was pleased to see him...more than pleased.
Time away.
She led him by gently tug into the Inn and beyond and settled upon the hilltop, looking down upon the view across the sea of Elysium, noting others near the shoreline, but her main focus was for him.
She offered to guard him to let him rest but he declined.
'Ly-ra missed Black-scars' and he returned similar words, forming another kind of music to her ears.
Her pale cheeks tinged, the barest of blushes and the odd feeling of that warmth left her mildly confused, and as was her habit at such times, she lifted up her other hand to check the neatness of her bow, before quizzing him further.
'Why did you go? Why are you back?'
Her breath caught in her throat when he took hold of her hand. She pressed gently, as her hand was held to his chest, as if testing the degree of physical pain those grave dark scars gave him still.
He spoke of a lone path, travels that he must do at times, personal demons and memories he had not made peace with.
'The past is done, it leaves its mark, the future can lead to peace' ....that was her hope at least, what she strove towards, in her own way.
Her finger drew three words in the sand 'NOT EASY PATH'
There was an element of understanding, perhaps similarities too. It was hard to tell. There were long pauses however and she realised just how tired he was. She was content however, simply to sit there close, listening to the music of the beach, her hand held in his, feeling the beat of his heart, her breathing slowing to match its rhythm, although many questions barely asked or answered lying between.
She caught the light in his green eyes, a shimmer as he spoke the next words.
'I came back because of you'
A gentle brush of cheek with hand, his to hers, hers to his.
'Ly-ra is....
...glad'
"Where the sod have you been?" but her eyes were bright, and her lips still bore that grin, she was pleased to see him...more than pleased.
Time away.
She led him by gently tug into the Inn and beyond and settled upon the hilltop, looking down upon the view across the sea of Elysium, noting others near the shoreline, but her main focus was for him.
She offered to guard him to let him rest but he declined.
'Ly-ra missed Black-scars' and he returned similar words, forming another kind of music to her ears.
Her pale cheeks tinged, the barest of blushes and the odd feeling of that warmth left her mildly confused, and as was her habit at such times, she lifted up her other hand to check the neatness of her bow, before quizzing him further.
'Why did you go? Why are you back?'
Her breath caught in her throat when he took hold of her hand. She pressed gently, as her hand was held to his chest, as if testing the degree of physical pain those grave dark scars gave him still.
He spoke of a lone path, travels that he must do at times, personal demons and memories he had not made peace with.
'The past is done, it leaves its mark, the future can lead to peace' ....that was her hope at least, what she strove towards, in her own way.
Her finger drew three words in the sand 'NOT EASY PATH'
There was an element of understanding, perhaps similarities too. It was hard to tell. There were long pauses however and she realised just how tired he was. She was content however, simply to sit there close, listening to the music of the beach, her hand held in his, feeling the beat of his heart, her breathing slowing to match its rhythm, although many questions barely asked or answered lying between.
She caught the light in his green eyes, a shimmer as he spoke the next words.
'I came back because of you'
A gentle brush of cheek with hand, his to hers, hers to his.
'Ly-ra is....
...glad'