Para-interactive: The Eagle

[*Powderhorn]

((As discussed in the "New Blood, Old Blood" thread, this is the Eagle's attempt to victimize a person of law. I invite anyone to feel free playing the part of the NPC victim, PC victims I'll try to deal with in-game so this is just something I can do during my off-time.

The Eagle is an Assassin, well trained in the making and use of poisons and traps.))

The Eagle lurked in the shadows of the Lady's Ward, her kukri already dipped in an ichor that would put the soutest of bodies asleep. And perhaps the less stout, someone her own size, into a more permanent slumber. Well, someone that was typically her own size, anyway. Uran had been good enough to make her human sized, for different reasons entirely, but that alone worked as an excellent disguise. The rest, the darkened clothes, the hood and mask concealing her bright purple hair, well, she just happened to be a traditionalist.

It was only a matter of time for a nice, drowsy human to come strolling by so she could follow them home. She had even cleared out one of her magical bags for the purpose.

[*Selebius]

Soon a group of three Mercykillers appear from one of the nearby 'Mercyless Chains' - a bar very popular by both Mercykillers and Devils.

Reddish light falls from the door, the roaring sounds of laughter and boastful conversations following the group onto the streets as does the heavy smoke that seems to fill this bar.

One of them, a burly man, scarred, his left earlobe ripped, shouts something back into the bar in a guttural, agressive yet lawful sounding language.

The door closes and the group wals down the street, the woman in spiked armour flirting with the last member of this group, a handsome half fiend with dark snik and coal black hair that falls down between his featherd wings.

Other mercykillers seem to avoid them and the markings on their uniforms show the humans to be factotums, the half fiend being a Justicar.

[*Powderhorn]

Bridget just rolls her eyes. Ohhh, so dark and handsome, so devilish, so sexy... she thinks to herself sarcastically, mentally adding this to her list of why she hates the Triad. At least I look good in black.

Still, it's not hard to follow a drunken crowd, and the Justicar isn't her target. She wants something specifically human, the messiness of dealing with a half-fiend just isn't what she's looking for. The fact that she's already drunk enough to probably follow anything that looks like it might be a decent lay just means that Bridget can change her approach. A needle is pulled out and dipped in the same poison before she follows after the woman.

All you'll feel is a little pinch. If that.

[*Selebius]

Soon the man bids his farewell, walking towards a house nearby while the woman and her fiendish paramour continue down the road.

Then he picks her up, the women giving an almost girlish giggle which he silences with a rough kiss. Hopping up he spreads his wings, carrying her up to a small hut that is build upon other houses nearby, almost like an eagle's roost. Landing on the balcony he sets the girl down, and still keeping an arm around her waist he opens the door.

[*Powderhorn]

Bridget just rolls her eyes some more, and patiently waits until he kicks her out after having his fun.

[*Selebius]

She waits an hour... then two. All the lights died up there in this small house and it lies in silence.

Nothing moves.

[*Powderhorn]

He didn't kick her out? Really? Dear Lord we have a gentleman on our hands, she thinks exasperatedly to herself. Heaving a sigh at the cross she must bear in life, she slowly sneaks her way into the hut, keeping a watchful eye for any traps or alarms that might give her away.

[*Selebius]

The climb up to the hut is not easy, the wood smooth and overgrown with some strange kind of lichen which adds and acidic bite to the overall slipperyness.

Soon the Eagle stands on the platform that surrounds the hut and she hears someone or something moving inside. There is the door and there are also two windows and so far she has found no traps or wards.

[*Powderhorn]

Bridget, ever cautious, peers through the window, already expecting to see the woman asleep and the justicar up and moving about.

[*Selebius]

It is dark inside, this room furnished lavishly the woman sleeping on the large round bed. Without light or magical enhanced senses it is hard to see any details however.

One of the doors leading into this room is slightly ajar, dim light, perhaps from a candle (?) flickering in there.