Something From the Past...

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Delanroth Blackbird
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Joined: Fri Jan 02, 2009 4:45 pm

Something From the Past...

Post by Delanroth Blackbird »

It was approximately noon in the city of Ghalagos on a cool, rainy day and most cloudy day on the island of Ephemera. The clouds in the sky seem redundant, as that is the natural state of the island's weather - cloudy, grey, and moist. This weather served as no contrast to the cities scattered about Ephemera. Most of them consisted of ancient, stone structures. The others were wooden shacks where a varitable amount of small shops were set up, and were especially popular amongst the peasant class of the population (and there were many). An average man in Ephemera was as pale as the moon, as the sun never blessed the island with its light. Some say such a place was cursed centuries ago, but most locals were indifferent to stories.

A man wearing white robes, organic to the image of a monk, approached the door to one of many local apothecaries. A guard was standing near the entrance, apparently ensuring that no thieves were as bold as to sneak in and steal medicinal herbs for their own benefit. Although many in the city were sick, everything in Ghalagos had a price - food, medicine, and even life.

The monk had a medium-build, pale complexion, short black hair, and a long nose with a ridge at the top. His eyes were dark, low and apparently tired, but there was something frightening about his constantly indifferent facial expression that was indescribable. To put it in simple words, there was nothing there.
"What business do you have here?", the guard asked.
The monk replied "I've a meeting with Sir Xavier to acquire medicine for the monastery."
Xavier was an alchemist who ran the apothecary. The guard simply nodded, and the monk entered through the wooden door.

Xavier, a red-robed man with a determined expression, watched the monk walk in, but didn't move from where he was sitting in his chair behind a table to greet him.
"Welcome, monk...before you tell me any reason for you being here, I already know...here are your herbs."
A bony hand from Xavier lifted a bag onto the table. "That will be 10 silver coins."
The monk replied, "but how do I know you are providing the proper herbs I requested for the monastery?"
Xavier impatiently retorted, "what reason do I have to betray a man of the cloth?"
The monk leered at Xavier for a brief moment and then grinned. "Of course."
He then walked to the table calmly, humbly inspected the bag, and inquired "do you think this much money is worth such a small amount of herbs?"
Xavier, apparently angry said "if you don't like how I do business, then leave...I've no time to deal with mindless bantering from a thrifty, complaining-"
Without letting him finish, the monk said "I'm sure you would, were your products available at an affordable rate for common people...or do you only serve the nobles of Ghalagos?"
"What do y--"
"Many have died, from your negligence...in particular, Mr. Grant's sister." The monk put a firm, somewhat assuring pat on Xavier's shoulder.

A few moments later, the monk briskly walked outside and away from the apothecary, a bag of herbs wrapped under his arm. An hour passed, and the guard decided it was time to talk with Xavier about an increase in his meager salary. The guard took a deep breath, walked through the door, and discovered that Xavier's back and his chair were turned away from the door as he sat. "Sir, does something trouble you?" There was no reply. "Sir?" The guard then walked to where he was sitting, and leaned in to inspect his face - Xavier's throat was slit, eyes wide open, with his red robes absorbing the blood that had been spilt. The guard reared back in horror, and went outside to find help and provide a description of the last man who had visited him - the monk.

The would-be monk was now in a dank room, and no longer was he wearing white...but instead wearing trousers, boots, and a shirt with a cloak surrounding him, all in grey. At his belt were two sheaths, one containing a serinjah sword and the other, a rapier.
"The deed has been done, Mr. Grant." The man put down the bag of herbs in front of him, with a transaction note tied to it that has the definite signature of Xavier.
An bald, old man with grey hair a blue eyes in the clothing of a noble nodded, and handed the dark-clothed man a small bag filled with silver coins.
"Thank you...Sylvia's soul may now be put to rest..."

Without replying, the grey-clothed man turned his back and began to walk away before Mr. Grant asked further, "what is your name? If you don't mind me asking the name of the man who avenged my sister..."
"I didn't avenge your sister, you did. I was merely an instrument of your vengeance...as for my name, Delanroth, Blackbird."
"I see. Shall I refer you to other possible employers?"
"No, I need no more...I'm leaving Ephemera on a ship, and may not return...which is why I felt compelled to tell you my true name in the first place." Delanroth smiled briefly.
"Very well," said Mr. Grant. "May Nargun bless you." The man left the room without a word.

Delanroth Blackbird was a man who belonged to the True Ravens, an organization created for the purpose of killing for money. Employment in Ghalagos was hard to find, considering the economy was primarily focused around benefitting the already wealthy while the poor backstabbed one another to survive. An employer of one of the True Ravens could've been anybody from royalty, to noblemen, to peasants, provided he or she was found trustworthy and could pay the price. But Delanroth had overstepped his boundaries, once agreeing to be hired for killing the prince of Ephemera without contacting the True Ravens. It was passed by decision from his organization that he be exiled from Ephemera after completing his final assignment - Xavier. The killing of the prince, although recent, would bring the True Ravens much unneeded public attention if Delanroth was captured to expose the plot in turn for his life. His heirarchy couldn't bring themselves to kill Delanroth, simply because he was a relative of one of the Elders. Exile was the only possible route, though if found past tomorrow, he would indeed be executed.

"Maybe it's time I find honest work...but how does a man, who's only talent is killing, find such a thing?"

Delanroth boarded a ship in the evening, headed toward Gobiath...
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