Unlucky Arrival
It has been a few weeks now, since Flannery had arrived. Oh, how mad she had gotten, as those dimwits of dock-workers dropped her precious two wooden chests into the harbour basin. All her costumes, her instruments, the stage equipment and her trickery gadgets and accessories – all gone for good.
She came here to put on a show, to entertain and amaze people. But now, she was ruined. It would take her ages to replace everything, that’s for sure. But she also could not leave and return to Gynk empty-handed. All she had left, was what she was wearing and little coin. She had to do it the hard way and start all over. For now, she was stuck with doing menial jobs…
The Artist's Sketchbook
Moderator: Gamemasters
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Luckily, people here weren’t what she was used to from Gynk, at all. She had met some people who were willing to help, some did not even ask for something in return, like this druid, Yridia, who was obviously all lovey-dovey with a man named Guir. But she also met some crafters who were willing to give her a good deal for what she would need to restore her equipment.
Now, she took her time to sketch her costumes. The first one to restore would be an ensemble she used to wear as a dancer…
Now, she took her time to sketch her costumes. The first one to restore would be an ensemble she used to wear as a dancer…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
The past days had been quite busy – and interesting! She spent most of her time collecting materials, mainly rare herbs, she could trade with the countess for her stage outfits. She couldn’t wait to try the first outfit, since she received a letter to meet her, in order to do so. However, she hadn’t been able cross paths with her, yet. What a strange deal anyway, and even more strange: having a countess as her tailor! That was something new!
On top of that, she had met a man who obviously had fallen for her, instantly. Oh, yes, again! They didn’t call her flirty Flannery for nothing, back then, with the showman gang. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she told him right away, she might fly away again, someday. But he seems to be eager… Well, at least, the whole story inspired her to a new song…
Now, she was sitting in Runewick’s tavern with a good cup of wine, working on the next sketch…
On top of that, she had met a man who obviously had fallen for her, instantly. Oh, yes, again! They didn’t call her flirty Flannery for nothing, back then, with the showman gang. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she told him right away, she might fly away again, someday. But he seems to be eager… Well, at least, the whole story inspired her to a new song…
Now, she was sitting in Runewick’s tavern with a good cup of wine, working on the next sketch…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Mas… Sheerina once told her, she considered Mas to be an inspiration for an artist and it certainly was in a way. But to Flannery, it mainly meant dark and depressing, even shocking motives for the most part. Subjects, she experienced enough in her life and didn’t want to share with her audience. Fortunately, the days of blood passed Runewick rather quietly. However, she chose to remain within the safety of the library, as she had been advised by Aswe, who did an awesome job removing the little scar crossing the left side of her torso, after an unfortunate visit with Cherga.
Sitting at the Inn again, she shooed her dark thoughts away, preferring to work on a new sketch…
Sitting at the Inn again, she shooed her dark thoughts away, preferring to work on a new sketch…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
The lights of the candles flickered, tinting the tavern in a warm glow. Flannery was sitting at a table in the corner, letting the past weeks travel back and forth in her mind. Raxus, the man who seemed to had fallen for her was gone, leaving her a letter about a going on a journey of which he never returned. She chuckled to herself. Normally, it was her, flying away, so being left was something rare.
Her attempts to find an audience to perform a little had been futile. Either she felt like being unwanted or people just didn’t seem to like to be entertained. A new and admittedly, slightly frustrating experience.
However, she also met some interesting new faces as well. There was Sigumari, the warrior with a dark past pressing on him, struggling to leave it behind. True, showing him her true self might have been a risk, but she felt he was in need of the help of the veils… and he made a quite good drinking buddy.
And then there was this elf in Galmair, Renar. She had to admit, she enjoyed the time with him in a refreshing way. Not only had they shared some stories but she felt understood – maybe for the first time in decades. She was looking forward to see him again…
Emptying her cup of wine, she took out her drawing supplies, to sketch out her next costume for the show…
Her attempts to find an audience to perform a little had been futile. Either she felt like being unwanted or people just didn’t seem to like to be entertained. A new and admittedly, slightly frustrating experience.
However, she also met some interesting new faces as well. There was Sigumari, the warrior with a dark past pressing on him, struggling to leave it behind. True, showing him her true self might have been a risk, but she felt he was in need of the help of the veils… and he made a quite good drinking buddy.
And then there was this elf in Galmair, Renar. She had to admit, she enjoyed the time with him in a refreshing way. Not only had they shared some stories but she felt understood – maybe for the first time in decades. She was looking forward to see him again…
Emptying her cup of wine, she took out her drawing supplies, to sketch out her next costume for the show…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Shadows of truth
Flannery was just out in the woods, gathering wool from those stubborn sheep of Runewick. Again, one of those damn menial tasks but it brought her some coin which she was really in need for. A lot had happened in the past months… lots of it rather unpleasant und she had been glad to be able to flee Gynk and the shadows of her dark secret once more and return to Illarion, even if she felt like dying of boredom, as her day had turned into less more than a daily training routine of her artistic skills. Well, that was until she had a most interesting encounter…. Reflecting the past days bewitched her lips with a mysterious smile.
The cracking sound of a twig under a boot called her back to reality. She turned on her heels and the smile on her lips just died as she saw the broad shouldered figure, right in front of her. How was he able to sneak up on her like that? She jumped backwards – or tried to – but it was as if the dark hulk was able to read her very movement in advance. He smirked under his deep drawn, black hood and grabbed for her arm in an incredibly fast move. Before she even knew, she found herself in his grasp, his heavy gloved hand holding her by the throat as he turned her left arm on her back. Surprised, she took a sharp breath as he was holding her by her still slightly injured wrist. She tried to break free by wiggling out of his grasp and tricking her way out, as she had done so many times, before.
“Don’t even think of it, little angel…”
His voice was a mere whisper but as cold as ice. Flannery froze that very instant, her eyes widening in sudden panic for an instant. It was him?? Why was he here? Her resistance faded instantly, yet he did not give her free but instead tightened the grasp on her twisted arm, drawing a suppressed sound of pain from her lips. She knew very well, there was no way to escape, and even if she did, her punishment would be even worse.
“Why? There was no message, no order… I did not neglect….”
“Silence! You know exactly why I’m here.
Do you really expect me to believe there are no solicitants on this cursed peninsula?
You were not sent here to play the happy entertainer!
Was the last lesson not enough?!”
His words made her unconsciously reach for her thigh with her free hand, right to the spot where there were still faint traces of bruises, right over her knee. Traces of the chain, he had wrapped around her leg, back when she was summoned to Gynk by the Veils – wrapped around so tight, that every single link of the chain had been visible for almost a month.
“I see you remember…”
He whispered right into her ear, with a dark chuckle.
Defiance flicked within her eyes for a moment as she found back to her cheeky, daring manner.
“You are a Blade of the Veils!
You serve the Veils as I do!
We serve a greater cause!
Not to satisfy your damn bloodthirst!
If I tell…”
He grumbled in anger and twisted her arm further up behind her back. The young woman gritted her teeth in agony. Just a bit more and it would break, that she was sure of. His low, cold whisper turned into a hissing.
“Shut up! Don’t you dare to contact them beyond my back!
Don’t think, you are not watched!
I don’t care for the rules!
Who do you think would the inner circle believe, hm?
You are nothing!”
She felt the cold metal of his heavy glove tightening the grasp around her throat to the point when she could barely breath anymore. His ice cold whisper pierced her mind like a knife.
“Hide behind your silly masquerade as much as you like!
You can’t change who you are!
Never forget who you belong to…
and to whom you own obedience!”
With those words he tossed her onto the forest ground. Her vision was getting blurry for a moment and she was catching for breath, coughing. Without any further word, he vanished as sudden as he had appeared…
Flannery was just out in the woods, gathering wool from those stubborn sheep of Runewick. Again, one of those damn menial tasks but it brought her some coin which she was really in need for. A lot had happened in the past months… lots of it rather unpleasant und she had been glad to be able to flee Gynk and the shadows of her dark secret once more and return to Illarion, even if she felt like dying of boredom, as her day had turned into less more than a daily training routine of her artistic skills. Well, that was until she had a most interesting encounter…. Reflecting the past days bewitched her lips with a mysterious smile.
The cracking sound of a twig under a boot called her back to reality. She turned on her heels and the smile on her lips just died as she saw the broad shouldered figure, right in front of her. How was he able to sneak up on her like that? She jumped backwards – or tried to – but it was as if the dark hulk was able to read her very movement in advance. He smirked under his deep drawn, black hood and grabbed for her arm in an incredibly fast move. Before she even knew, she found herself in his grasp, his heavy gloved hand holding her by the throat as he turned her left arm on her back. Surprised, she took a sharp breath as he was holding her by her still slightly injured wrist. She tried to break free by wiggling out of his grasp and tricking her way out, as she had done so many times, before.
“Don’t even think of it, little angel…”
His voice was a mere whisper but as cold as ice. Flannery froze that very instant, her eyes widening in sudden panic for an instant. It was him?? Why was he here? Her resistance faded instantly, yet he did not give her free but instead tightened the grasp on her twisted arm, drawing a suppressed sound of pain from her lips. She knew very well, there was no way to escape, and even if she did, her punishment would be even worse.
“Why? There was no message, no order… I did not neglect….”
“Silence! You know exactly why I’m here.
Do you really expect me to believe there are no solicitants on this cursed peninsula?
You were not sent here to play the happy entertainer!
Was the last lesson not enough?!”
His words made her unconsciously reach for her thigh with her free hand, right to the spot where there were still faint traces of bruises, right over her knee. Traces of the chain, he had wrapped around her leg, back when she was summoned to Gynk by the Veils – wrapped around so tight, that every single link of the chain had been visible for almost a month.
“I see you remember…”
He whispered right into her ear, with a dark chuckle.
Defiance flicked within her eyes for a moment as she found back to her cheeky, daring manner.
“You are a Blade of the Veils!
You serve the Veils as I do!
We serve a greater cause!
Not to satisfy your damn bloodthirst!
If I tell…”
He grumbled in anger and twisted her arm further up behind her back. The young woman gritted her teeth in agony. Just a bit more and it would break, that she was sure of. His low, cold whisper turned into a hissing.
“Shut up! Don’t you dare to contact them beyond my back!
Don’t think, you are not watched!
I don’t care for the rules!
Who do you think would the inner circle believe, hm?
You are nothing!”
She felt the cold metal of his heavy glove tightening the grasp around her throat to the point when she could barely breath anymore. His ice cold whisper pierced her mind like a knife.
“Hide behind your silly masquerade as much as you like!
You can’t change who you are!
Never forget who you belong to…
and to whom you own obedience!”
With those words he tossed her onto the forest ground. Her vision was getting blurry for a moment and she was catching for breath, coughing. Without any further word, he vanished as sudden as he had appeared…
Last edited by Flannery on Mon Jan 08, 2024 1:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Flickering candles drew dancing shadows on the wall of the tavern. Students were enjoying their free time over some wine and games of dice, filling the room with their low voiced chitchats. Flannery was sitting over her sketchbook and was barely able to focus, which was highly uncommon for her. It has been only a few days, and yet, so much had happened. During all those years, she never forged any bonds, friendships, yet alone relationships. Always free like a bird, she never had settled down. She never had stayed long in one place and certainly never allowed anyone to get close to her. Always escaping before anyone could really reach to her. Not that anyone had ever really cared for her anyway, before. It had always been just games, distractions, so she could forget about the shadows of her secrets.
That had always been her only way…
She always denied herself to have any feelings for anyone.
It was dangerous and must not be…
And that’s it!
Right?
She browsed through her sketches, until she reached an empty page which was only holding two dried blossoms:
A Heartblood and a Tybald Star.
A soft smile crossed her lips for a moment.
Wait! What?
What was she even thinking?! She should know better and leave, right away and for good!
But…
The memory of last night kept lingering on her...
She took her quill and began to write.
As so often, it felt like her feelings were just flowing onto the parchment…
That had always been her only way…
She always denied herself to have any feelings for anyone.
It was dangerous and must not be…
And that’s it!
Right?
She browsed through her sketches, until she reached an empty page which was only holding two dried blossoms:
A Heartblood and a Tybald Star.
A soft smile crossed her lips for a moment.
Wait! What?
What was she even thinking?! She should know better and leave, right away and for good!
But…
The memory of last night kept lingering on her...
She took her quill and began to write.
As so often, it felt like her feelings were just flowing onto the parchment…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Old Wounds
The hour before sunrise is the darkest, they say… and as so often, this was exactly how it felt. Yet, darkness was not necessarily something bad. Sure, horrors may dwell within, but it could also be a welcome blanket that covers what we don’t want to see or just want to forget. Darkness was indeed most welcome to Flannery, today.
Actually, her visit in Cadomyr should have made her absolutely happy. She made a quite good deal with Inara, which would relieve her financial problems for a while. And, even more importantly, the Countess had finished all her long lost costumes, some of them even more pretty than her old ones and on top, she gave her a pretty good deal on them. All was perfect. A day that would have called for a bottle of wine to celebrate.
If it wasn’t for the Countess, who suddenly opened long banished wounds…
Why by the goods did she have to ask her about that cursed slave traders guild? Seeing the drawing of their emblem brought back memories she thought to have banished in the deepest corner of her mind. But suddenly it all came back. Their so called hunters, catching her… more than once… their so called trainers… which she preferred to call mind breakers. Men who relied on various methods to train an obedient slave.
The countesses’ questions did not make it better.
If she would welcome that slave trading means a death sentence in Cadomyr?
For those hunter and mind breakers, certainly! They even made children like her going through hell without any sign of a heart, back then…
If she would agree that it should be a clean, quick death and not the same level of cruelty, they rely on?
Of course! No one should turn into a monster to punish a monster for it would make you the same!
True justice is not in the hands of the living, anyway, but awaits everyone, once they cross the veils for good!
Why all those odd questions anyway?
It just had brought back all the hatred and pain.
Memories she had banished over a 100 years ago, just to drown them in rum, now.
As she heard steps in the sand, she jumped of her feet, bringing the crackling fire between herself and the broad-shouldered man who was approaching. The man gave her a cold gaze from under his black hood. His voice was low and threatening.
“I hope you did summon me into this damn desert for a good reason, little angel…”
Knowing it was wiser to be obedient, she dropped on one knee and lowered her gaze.
“Yes, Master Blade.
I found a solicitant.”
She held out several parchments to him, without looking at him, but it took her all, to swallow her boiling defiance and disgust.
“The old man had lost his whole family to a Moshran Cult, who took them by force. It is most likely, that they were used as a sacrifice.
The inner circle has already approved. Your target can be found South West of the Citadel that lies West of the Hemp Nightie, somewhere in the underground.
These are the details.”
The dark, giant man snatched the parchments from her and as he studied them, his lips curled into a cruel, cold grin.
“Very well, they shall meet their punishment.
Too bad that it has to be nice and quick…
You are useful, for a change…
But don’t get too cozy in your new life, here!”
“Yes, Master Blade…”
She gritted her teeth, as he vanished into the darkness, just to let out a breath of relief.
Oh, how much she hated this!
She never wanted to be a servant of the Veils.
And that man was no longer a truthful Blade of the Veils, no loyal servant to the Grey Mistress!
In fact, she was sure, he had never been.
But there was nothing she could do.
She was just an Emissary, not a Blade…
The hour before sunrise is the darkest, they say… and as so often, this was exactly how it felt. Yet, darkness was not necessarily something bad. Sure, horrors may dwell within, but it could also be a welcome blanket that covers what we don’t want to see or just want to forget. Darkness was indeed most welcome to Flannery, today.
Actually, her visit in Cadomyr should have made her absolutely happy. She made a quite good deal with Inara, which would relieve her financial problems for a while. And, even more importantly, the Countess had finished all her long lost costumes, some of them even more pretty than her old ones and on top, she gave her a pretty good deal on them. All was perfect. A day that would have called for a bottle of wine to celebrate.
If it wasn’t for the Countess, who suddenly opened long banished wounds…
Why by the goods did she have to ask her about that cursed slave traders guild? Seeing the drawing of their emblem brought back memories she thought to have banished in the deepest corner of her mind. But suddenly it all came back. Their so called hunters, catching her… more than once… their so called trainers… which she preferred to call mind breakers. Men who relied on various methods to train an obedient slave.
The countesses’ questions did not make it better.
If she would welcome that slave trading means a death sentence in Cadomyr?
For those hunter and mind breakers, certainly! They even made children like her going through hell without any sign of a heart, back then…
If she would agree that it should be a clean, quick death and not the same level of cruelty, they rely on?
Of course! No one should turn into a monster to punish a monster for it would make you the same!
True justice is not in the hands of the living, anyway, but awaits everyone, once they cross the veils for good!
Why all those odd questions anyway?
It just had brought back all the hatred and pain.
Memories she had banished over a 100 years ago, just to drown them in rum, now.
As she heard steps in the sand, she jumped of her feet, bringing the crackling fire between herself and the broad-shouldered man who was approaching. The man gave her a cold gaze from under his black hood. His voice was low and threatening.
“I hope you did summon me into this damn desert for a good reason, little angel…”
Knowing it was wiser to be obedient, she dropped on one knee and lowered her gaze.
“Yes, Master Blade.
I found a solicitant.”
She held out several parchments to him, without looking at him, but it took her all, to swallow her boiling defiance and disgust.
“The old man had lost his whole family to a Moshran Cult, who took them by force. It is most likely, that they were used as a sacrifice.
The inner circle has already approved. Your target can be found South West of the Citadel that lies West of the Hemp Nightie, somewhere in the underground.
These are the details.”
The dark, giant man snatched the parchments from her and as he studied them, his lips curled into a cruel, cold grin.
“Very well, they shall meet their punishment.
Too bad that it has to be nice and quick…
You are useful, for a change…
But don’t get too cozy in your new life, here!”
“Yes, Master Blade…”
She gritted her teeth, as he vanished into the darkness, just to let out a breath of relief.
Oh, how much she hated this!
She never wanted to be a servant of the Veils.
And that man was no longer a truthful Blade of the Veils, no loyal servant to the Grey Mistress!
In fact, she was sure, he had never been.
But there was nothing she could do.
She was just an Emissary, not a Blade…
Last edited by Flannery on Mon Jan 01, 2024 5:42 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Threats
The light of the oil lamp had died and her senses felt dull. Flannery was somewhere between asleep and awake. Where was “here” again? Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness and as she tried to sit up, the sharp pain between her ribs brought back the memory. Right… She was at Runewick hospital. Malchus had carried her here after he had found her at the Hemptie Inn and Aswe had stitched her up, there. Why Aswe had been there, she could not remember, nor how Malchus came to find her there. She felt dizzy and the details were blurred. What had even happened? Pictures flashed up within her mind. A cave... Ratmen… Pain… darkness… the Hemp and Half-hung Bryan looking at her…
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as she heard a door and heavy steps from the room next door. Was it Malchus, coming to check on her? No… this were not his steps... these were…
Panic flashed up from deep within her. She tried to get up, her gaze searching for a way out, a place to hide, but it was too late. With a hard grip, a heavy hand pushed her down, sealing her mouth and smothering the low scream of pain on her lips.
“My, my…. Little angel… You are so silly…”
With a cold grin, the broad-shouldered man with the deep dark hood pressed her into the pillow and his other hand pressed on the stitched wound on her side, drawing a low sound of agony from her.
“What were you thinking?
Did you really even think you coud handle those rats on your own?
Or that I would leave you alone when you are wounded?
Ohhh! Wait! You did not do this on purpose, did you?!”
Her eyes widened in panic and she struggled to break free, yet it had no use. She could feel the warm blood slowly oozing from her wound and she secretly prayed the stitches would hold. He pressed on the wound once more and if he would not have kept her mouth shot, one would have heard her screaming outside. He just grumbled lowly and with an ice-cold voice.
“Useless little bitch!
Better recover fast…
And remember your job!
Or I will have to search on my own…
Got it?!”
With that he let go of her and she could hear his heavy steps, as her vision was getting blurry from the pain. And as sudden and secretly as he had come, he vanished again…
The light of the oil lamp had died and her senses felt dull. Flannery was somewhere between asleep and awake. Where was “here” again? Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness and as she tried to sit up, the sharp pain between her ribs brought back the memory. Right… She was at Runewick hospital. Malchus had carried her here after he had found her at the Hemptie Inn and Aswe had stitched her up, there. Why Aswe had been there, she could not remember, nor how Malchus came to find her there. She felt dizzy and the details were blurred. What had even happened? Pictures flashed up within her mind. A cave... Ratmen… Pain… darkness… the Hemp and Half-hung Bryan looking at her…
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as she heard a door and heavy steps from the room next door. Was it Malchus, coming to check on her? No… this were not his steps... these were…
Panic flashed up from deep within her. She tried to get up, her gaze searching for a way out, a place to hide, but it was too late. With a hard grip, a heavy hand pushed her down, sealing her mouth and smothering the low scream of pain on her lips.
“My, my…. Little angel… You are so silly…”
With a cold grin, the broad-shouldered man with the deep dark hood pressed her into the pillow and his other hand pressed on the stitched wound on her side, drawing a low sound of agony from her.
“What were you thinking?
Did you really even think you coud handle those rats on your own?
Or that I would leave you alone when you are wounded?
Ohhh! Wait! You did not do this on purpose, did you?!”
Her eyes widened in panic and she struggled to break free, yet it had no use. She could feel the warm blood slowly oozing from her wound and she secretly prayed the stitches would hold. He pressed on the wound once more and if he would not have kept her mouth shot, one would have heard her screaming outside. He just grumbled lowly and with an ice-cold voice.
“Useless little bitch!
Better recover fast…
And remember your job!
Or I will have to search on my own…
Got it?!”
With that he let go of her and she could hear his heavy steps, as her vision was getting blurry from the pain. And as sudden and secretly as he had come, he vanished again…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
The investigator
Deep down within the endless maze of the catacombs of Gynk, five hooded figures in grey robes had gathered under the eyes of the giant statue of Cherga. The mistress of the grey veils was watching over them, as a woman in black kneeled within their midst.
“We had word that a town called Runewick on the peninsula of Illarion has requested our services by one of our Nightangels. Obviously, they are dealing with a cruelsome murderer, spreading terror, pain and fear.”, one of the figures, obviously a man, had raised his voice.
“Though it might be rare, we decided to follow their call and will send you to investigate the matter. As one of our most promising Blades, you should be capable to handle whatever you will find.”, another one of them, an older woman, according to the voice, continued.
“For now, you will only investigate and report back. Contact the Nightangel the usual way. She shall await your orders.”, the third took over. By his voice and stature, he might be dwarf in his elder years.
“There is another Blade on that peninsula. Be sure to get not in the way of his duties”, the figure to the most left continued with a low, almost whispering voice, yet clearly to be heard.
“You have your orders. Get on your way post haste.”, the woman in the middle ordered with a stern voice that did not leave any room for questions.
“Yes, Masters of the Veils!”, the woman in black answered obediently, keeping her gaze lowered until she arose in a smooth movement.
Pulling her hood deep into her face, she left the chamber of the Inner Circle with swift steps and a flying cloak…
Deep down within the endless maze of the catacombs of Gynk, five hooded figures in grey robes had gathered under the eyes of the giant statue of Cherga. The mistress of the grey veils was watching over them, as a woman in black kneeled within their midst.
“We had word that a town called Runewick on the peninsula of Illarion has requested our services by one of our Nightangels. Obviously, they are dealing with a cruelsome murderer, spreading terror, pain and fear.”, one of the figures, obviously a man, had raised his voice.
“Though it might be rare, we decided to follow their call and will send you to investigate the matter. As one of our most promising Blades, you should be capable to handle whatever you will find.”, another one of them, an older woman, according to the voice, continued.
“For now, you will only investigate and report back. Contact the Nightangel the usual way. She shall await your orders.”, the third took over. By his voice and stature, he might be dwarf in his elder years.
“There is another Blade on that peninsula. Be sure to get not in the way of his duties”, the figure to the most left continued with a low, almost whispering voice, yet clearly to be heard.
“You have your orders. Get on your way post haste.”, the woman in the middle ordered with a stern voice that did not leave any room for questions.
“Yes, Masters of the Veils!”, the woman in black answered obediently, keeping her gaze lowered until she arose in a smooth movement.
Pulling her hood deep into her face, she left the chamber of the Inner Circle with swift steps and a flying cloak…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Flannery was sitting at the balcony of the inn of Runewick, her sketchbook lying in front of her, and a cup of nice wine right within reach. A warm summer breeze gently played with her copper red hair and down below in town, the daily life continued, while people were chatting in low voices at the depot, just as if nothing had changed…
But for her, everything had changed, ever since that fateful night under the stars, hidden by the grape vines. Her fingertips gently touched the slightly glowing topaz amulet that was dangling around her neck and a gentle smile danced on her lips. Never would she have thought to ever allow someone to do that, yet making such a decision.
A decision that changes everything.
A secret, so sweet and yet so dangerous.
Holding a kind of happiness she had always denied herself.
Yet, she was well aware, that a single false step of hers could put it all at risk.
She browsed to an empty page that was holding a single Firnis Blossom. Another sweet little memento on what had happened. Grabbing her quill, she began to write, as the wind seemed to whisper the words to her, along with tender memories…
But for her, everything had changed, ever since that fateful night under the stars, hidden by the grape vines. Her fingertips gently touched the slightly glowing topaz amulet that was dangling around her neck and a gentle smile danced on her lips. Never would she have thought to ever allow someone to do that, yet making such a decision.
A decision that changes everything.
A secret, so sweet and yet so dangerous.
Holding a kind of happiness she had always denied herself.
Yet, she was well aware, that a single false step of hers could put it all at risk.
She browsed to an empty page that was holding a single Firnis Blossom. Another sweet little memento on what had happened. Grabbing her quill, she began to write, as the wind seemed to whisper the words to her, along with tender memories…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Endurance
Protected by the shadows of the night, Flannery directed her steps deeper into the woods north of Runewick. She had been avoiding the towns the past four days, as she had fulfilled her accursed duty. Suddenly, a hand was placed on her shoulder, forcefully turning her around with a cold, hard grip. Her eyes widened instantly. How by Cherga was that giant man able to sneak up on her like that?!
In reflex, she managed to wind out of his grip, trying to bring some distance between them with a backflip. But he closed in to her with incredible speed and her resistance earned her a direct hit in the face.
“Who do you think you are?!”, he shouted at her in anger.
Torn between fear and defiance deep within, she hardly managed to sort her thoughts, but her common sense regained control, just in time. She instantly lowered her gaze and dropped on one knee.
“Forgive me, Master Blade”, she said obediently, secretly gritting her teeth.
The giant, broad-shouldered man gave her a cruel, cold gaze, raising his hand once more.
“I found another solicitant”, she said quickly, having him stop in mid-move. Slowly, he lowered his hand, his cold gaze fixed on her, as he answered in a deep, low voice.
“Spit it out!”
“The woman had to flee Albar, ten years ago. Leaving behind her younger sister who got married to a cruel noble. Her sister had died under unclear circumstances, but the solicitant as well as the Veils are sure, he was behind her death. The Inner Circle has confirmed the target.”
She holds out a parchment to him which he quickly snatched from her to study it.
“So, the target is that lousy young noble, eh? Albar…”
She took a light breath, nodding, yet trying to hide her relief. If all would go well, this could maybe buy her enough time…
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the neck, pulling her up on her feet and even forcing her to stand on her toes, struggling for breath. Her eyes widened in panic as she stared at him, both of her hands clenching around his mighty wrist. Suddenly, she held her breath for a moment, as she spotted the small tattoo at the inner side of his left lower arm, showing a blade, yet he did not seem to notice. Instead he stared at her and his face was distorted by a cold grin of cruelty as he whispered to her with a voice that made her blood freeze in her veins.
“Just one more thing, little angel!
You are mine! Your useless life belongs to me!
Play as much as you like, but never forget that!
Or else, he will be next…”
With that he tossed her to the ground, leaving her shivering and catching for breath. She watched him disappearing in the darkness as clouds covered the moons. She gritted her teeth, her gaze piecing the night with boiling anger and defiance, as she reached into her bag, bringing up the topaz necklace, she had hidden away, to put it back on.
“I’m not!
And you won’t touch him!“
Slowly, she got on her feet, and what had yet just been considerations now fostered into a deep resolve…
Protected by the shadows of the night, Flannery directed her steps deeper into the woods north of Runewick. She had been avoiding the towns the past four days, as she had fulfilled her accursed duty. Suddenly, a hand was placed on her shoulder, forcefully turning her around with a cold, hard grip. Her eyes widened instantly. How by Cherga was that giant man able to sneak up on her like that?!
In reflex, she managed to wind out of his grip, trying to bring some distance between them with a backflip. But he closed in to her with incredible speed and her resistance earned her a direct hit in the face.
“Who do you think you are?!”, he shouted at her in anger.
Torn between fear and defiance deep within, she hardly managed to sort her thoughts, but her common sense regained control, just in time. She instantly lowered her gaze and dropped on one knee.
“Forgive me, Master Blade”, she said obediently, secretly gritting her teeth.
The giant, broad-shouldered man gave her a cruel, cold gaze, raising his hand once more.
“I found another solicitant”, she said quickly, having him stop in mid-move. Slowly, he lowered his hand, his cold gaze fixed on her, as he answered in a deep, low voice.
“Spit it out!”
“The woman had to flee Albar, ten years ago. Leaving behind her younger sister who got married to a cruel noble. Her sister had died under unclear circumstances, but the solicitant as well as the Veils are sure, he was behind her death. The Inner Circle has confirmed the target.”
She holds out a parchment to him which he quickly snatched from her to study it.
“So, the target is that lousy young noble, eh? Albar…”
She took a light breath, nodding, yet trying to hide her relief. If all would go well, this could maybe buy her enough time…
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the neck, pulling her up on her feet and even forcing her to stand on her toes, struggling for breath. Her eyes widened in panic as she stared at him, both of her hands clenching around his mighty wrist. Suddenly, she held her breath for a moment, as she spotted the small tattoo at the inner side of his left lower arm, showing a blade, yet he did not seem to notice. Instead he stared at her and his face was distorted by a cold grin of cruelty as he whispered to her with a voice that made her blood freeze in her veins.
“Just one more thing, little angel!
You are mine! Your useless life belongs to me!
Play as much as you like, but never forget that!
Or else, he will be next…”
With that he tossed her to the ground, leaving her shivering and catching for breath. She watched him disappearing in the darkness as clouds covered the moons. She gritted her teeth, her gaze piecing the night with boiling anger and defiance, as she reached into her bag, bringing up the topaz necklace, she had hidden away, to put it back on.
“I’m not!
And you won’t touch him!“
Slowly, she got on her feet, and what had yet just been considerations now fostered into a deep resolve…
Last edited by Flannery on Mon Jan 08, 2024 2:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
A New Blade
Early in the morning, dawn had yet not even cast the first light, Flannery quietly snuck her way out to get some fresh. It had been a night of restless sleep, as yesterday, one of her deepest fears had become reality.
She had been busted.
Her dark secret was no longer secret, at least to two people within Runewick. After hearing the dreadful truth, it was agreed to keep it confidential, since the consequence would be no other than death. Should the Veils learn about her breaking the codex, they would act accordingly and would not only execute her, but also leave no witnesses. However, her destiny lied within the hands of those two now and she could only wait for the decisions made.
Slowly, she sat down at the table on the terrace, wrapping her arms around herself. How could this have happened? More than 150 years, she had lived this life now. A travelling artist and performer in the bright light, an emissary of death within the shadows. One side of the coin had been her decision and was making her happy, while the other one had been forced on her, pulling her deeper down into the darkness with every cursed deed in the name of the Veils.
The Veils.
When she joined them, she had been just a mere child of not more than 14 years, who had lived a life of pain and endurance. A circle of running away, just be caught and sold again. When she was led down into that underground chamber and learned about the Veils, her fate had been settled. Whoever sets a foot in one of those holy chambers would only leave them as a member of the order… or meet Cherga for good. Which was also the only way to ever leave them.
She had just been a child!
She had no other choice!
The only choice left had been whether to become a Nightangel or a Blade. And she had chosen for the lesser evil. Ever since, she had lived a life of deception and lies. It had been easier, while the showman gang had still been with her. She had someone to share the burden. But the curse of her elven blood outrun her… they were all long gone and turned to dust.
From there on out, she had travelled alone, whether where the Veils had sent her or where she could find a town to perform. Over time, she had grown numb towards the dark part of her life, simply enduring it, only feeling a glint of happiness, when performing in any way. With a perfect masquerade of the joyful, cheeky travelling artist. She had never stayed long in one place or allowed herself to make any bounds. Whenever she started to feel like getting attached to someone, she had just fled, in order to protect those around her. She was a lonely bird for a good reason. The risk of tripping had been too high…
But now, it happened.
She did not even realize the silent tears that ran down her cheeks in the cool, nightly air. She had not been crying for real in decades. Her time here had changed her. She had been granted a glimpse on happiness, but now it felt, like the shadows were trying to devour her.
“What a rare sight. A crying Nightangel.”, a woman said in low voice, standing right next to her.
Flannery jumped off the chair, being on high alert as she spotted the woman in black. When did she come up here?! It took her a moment to realize her situation.
The new blade.
Out of reflex, she dropped on one knee, lowering her gaze, as she had done so for over a decade to the cruel, giant Blade. But the woman just raised an eyebrow in surprise, pushing back her hood just as much that Flannery could see her face. A sign of trust and equality between Blades and Nightangels. The way it should be, according to the codex.
“What are you doing?!
Get on your feet!”
“Yes, Master Blade.”
Flannery inhaled sharply, as the words just slipped her. Again, a reflex. Slowly, she raised from the ground. The woman folded her arms, gazing her with suspicion.
“What was that? What’s that nonsense?
I get the feeling, you’ve got more to tell than just those cases of murder…”
She motioned Flannery to sit down again and leaned against the table.
“Now, tell me… and I mean everything!”
And so, the Nightangel began to tell her everything. About the murder cases and her suspecting the Blade, but also about the years of abuse and violence. The woman listened quietly, not showing any sign of emotion. As the first grey light was boding daybreak, she vanished into the shadows. The upcoming days, she would gather intel in order to confirm the accusations. If what Flannery had told her was proven, the giant Blade was indeed a rogue, not only breaking the highest rules of the codex by spreading harm and terror but also posing a threat to the Veils by doing so.
Flannery took a breath and snuck back in, as quietly as she had left, locking the doors again and putting the key back in place. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glanced over to the man who had caused her betraying her own rules. Whatever fate would await her now, she would not want to miss the time by his side, nor did she regret any of it.
Things had been set in motion…
Early in the morning, dawn had yet not even cast the first light, Flannery quietly snuck her way out to get some fresh. It had been a night of restless sleep, as yesterday, one of her deepest fears had become reality.
She had been busted.
Her dark secret was no longer secret, at least to two people within Runewick. After hearing the dreadful truth, it was agreed to keep it confidential, since the consequence would be no other than death. Should the Veils learn about her breaking the codex, they would act accordingly and would not only execute her, but also leave no witnesses. However, her destiny lied within the hands of those two now and she could only wait for the decisions made.
Slowly, she sat down at the table on the terrace, wrapping her arms around herself. How could this have happened? More than 150 years, she had lived this life now. A travelling artist and performer in the bright light, an emissary of death within the shadows. One side of the coin had been her decision and was making her happy, while the other one had been forced on her, pulling her deeper down into the darkness with every cursed deed in the name of the Veils.
The Veils.
When she joined them, she had been just a mere child of not more than 14 years, who had lived a life of pain and endurance. A circle of running away, just be caught and sold again. When she was led down into that underground chamber and learned about the Veils, her fate had been settled. Whoever sets a foot in one of those holy chambers would only leave them as a member of the order… or meet Cherga for good. Which was also the only way to ever leave them.
She had just been a child!
She had no other choice!
The only choice left had been whether to become a Nightangel or a Blade. And she had chosen for the lesser evil. Ever since, she had lived a life of deception and lies. It had been easier, while the showman gang had still been with her. She had someone to share the burden. But the curse of her elven blood outrun her… they were all long gone and turned to dust.
From there on out, she had travelled alone, whether where the Veils had sent her or where she could find a town to perform. Over time, she had grown numb towards the dark part of her life, simply enduring it, only feeling a glint of happiness, when performing in any way. With a perfect masquerade of the joyful, cheeky travelling artist. She had never stayed long in one place or allowed herself to make any bounds. Whenever she started to feel like getting attached to someone, she had just fled, in order to protect those around her. She was a lonely bird for a good reason. The risk of tripping had been too high…
But now, it happened.
She did not even realize the silent tears that ran down her cheeks in the cool, nightly air. She had not been crying for real in decades. Her time here had changed her. She had been granted a glimpse on happiness, but now it felt, like the shadows were trying to devour her.
“What a rare sight. A crying Nightangel.”, a woman said in low voice, standing right next to her.
Flannery jumped off the chair, being on high alert as she spotted the woman in black. When did she come up here?! It took her a moment to realize her situation.
The new blade.
Out of reflex, she dropped on one knee, lowering her gaze, as she had done so for over a decade to the cruel, giant Blade. But the woman just raised an eyebrow in surprise, pushing back her hood just as much that Flannery could see her face. A sign of trust and equality between Blades and Nightangels. The way it should be, according to the codex.
“What are you doing?!
Get on your feet!”
“Yes, Master Blade.”
Flannery inhaled sharply, as the words just slipped her. Again, a reflex. Slowly, she raised from the ground. The woman folded her arms, gazing her with suspicion.
“What was that? What’s that nonsense?
I get the feeling, you’ve got more to tell than just those cases of murder…”
She motioned Flannery to sit down again and leaned against the table.
“Now, tell me… and I mean everything!”
And so, the Nightangel began to tell her everything. About the murder cases and her suspecting the Blade, but also about the years of abuse and violence. The woman listened quietly, not showing any sign of emotion. As the first grey light was boding daybreak, she vanished into the shadows. The upcoming days, she would gather intel in order to confirm the accusations. If what Flannery had told her was proven, the giant Blade was indeed a rogue, not only breaking the highest rules of the codex by spreading harm and terror but also posing a threat to the Veils by doing so.
Flannery took a breath and snuck back in, as quietly as she had left, locking the doors again and putting the key back in place. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glanced over to the man who had caused her betraying her own rules. Whatever fate would await her now, she would not want to miss the time by his side, nor did she regret any of it.
Things had been set in motion…
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Safety Measures
In the late afternoon, Flannery made her way down to the underground of Galmair. Yet, the copper-haired artist was not out for any mischief, but was on her way to the children of Ronagan, the waifs and strays. She had begun to playfully teach them some instruments after offering them to help behind the scenes of the grand show, she was preparing for so long, already. She provided them with everything needed to do so and of course, there would be some coin in for them. That’s how she usually did it, when planning a show in a new town. But this time, she was not only there for practice, but also to give one of them a special mission.
Seth was a wiry, shrewd young man of just 15. He was something of a big brother to many of the younger ones down here and the children of Ronagan always came first for him. Although he was a rascal as they say in the book, he had proven to be extremely reliable when the coin was right. Flannery handed the blond with the watchful green eyes three sealed letters, instructing him with a very serious gaze and a calm voice.
“Listen well, this is extremely important.
I want you to keep those letters secret and safe.
They are my life insurance, and I mean literally.
If you don't hear from me every three dwarven weeks at the latest, in whatever way, or hear that I died or vanished under mysterious circumstances, I want you to make sure, that these three letters find their way to the leaders of all three realms.”
She also handed him a bunch of parchments in a sealed leather folder and continued.
“Further, I want you to make sure, these are spread all over Illarion, the very same day you deliver the letters. Make sure that everyone will know about what is written here.”
The young lad nodded and tucked it all away in his bag, holding up his empty palm, just to receive a well filled purse. He peeked in and gave her a satisfied grin.
“Sounds like you've gotten yourself into quite a mess, but leave it to me, lass…”
He confidently pointed to himself with his thumb and nodded at her. Flannery pulled one last sealed letter out of her pocket. She looked at it silently for a moment, with a gentle yet almost sad smile on her lips, before finally handing it over.
“This last one here is maybe the most important one.
Please… make sure it will find its way to Malchus, the Captain of the guard in Runewick.
Just, in the worst case…”
Seth bounced from the stone he was sitting on with a light smirk.
“Alright, alright… I got it. You can count on me, lass!”
With that, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnels to hide everything in a safe place. Flannery watched him leaving whispering to herself.
“Let’s hope none of them will ever have to find their way. Especially not the last one.”
She gently touched the topaz amulet around her neck. Memories came to her, memories of that fateful night, high up at the vineyard, causing a soft smile to fly over her lips.
“I gave you a promise. And I want to keep it…”
((A scene from said evening. A side of Flannery, only very few will ever get to see…))
In the late afternoon, Flannery made her way down to the underground of Galmair. Yet, the copper-haired artist was not out for any mischief, but was on her way to the children of Ronagan, the waifs and strays. She had begun to playfully teach them some instruments after offering them to help behind the scenes of the grand show, she was preparing for so long, already. She provided them with everything needed to do so and of course, there would be some coin in for them. That’s how she usually did it, when planning a show in a new town. But this time, she was not only there for practice, but also to give one of them a special mission.
Seth was a wiry, shrewd young man of just 15. He was something of a big brother to many of the younger ones down here and the children of Ronagan always came first for him. Although he was a rascal as they say in the book, he had proven to be extremely reliable when the coin was right. Flannery handed the blond with the watchful green eyes three sealed letters, instructing him with a very serious gaze and a calm voice.
“Listen well, this is extremely important.
I want you to keep those letters secret and safe.
They are my life insurance, and I mean literally.
If you don't hear from me every three dwarven weeks at the latest, in whatever way, or hear that I died or vanished under mysterious circumstances, I want you to make sure, that these three letters find their way to the leaders of all three realms.”
She also handed him a bunch of parchments in a sealed leather folder and continued.
“Further, I want you to make sure, these are spread all over Illarion, the very same day you deliver the letters. Make sure that everyone will know about what is written here.”
The young lad nodded and tucked it all away in his bag, holding up his empty palm, just to receive a well filled purse. He peeked in and gave her a satisfied grin.
“Sounds like you've gotten yourself into quite a mess, but leave it to me, lass…”
He confidently pointed to himself with his thumb and nodded at her. Flannery pulled one last sealed letter out of her pocket. She looked at it silently for a moment, with a gentle yet almost sad smile on her lips, before finally handing it over.
“This last one here is maybe the most important one.
Please… make sure it will find its way to Malchus, the Captain of the guard in Runewick.
Just, in the worst case…”
Seth bounced from the stone he was sitting on with a light smirk.
“Alright, alright… I got it. You can count on me, lass!”
With that, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnels to hide everything in a safe place. Flannery watched him leaving whispering to herself.
“Let’s hope none of them will ever have to find their way. Especially not the last one.”
She gently touched the topaz amulet around her neck. Memories came to her, memories of that fateful night, high up at the vineyard, causing a soft smile to fly over her lips.
“I gave you a promise. And I want to keep it…”
((A scene from said evening. A side of Flannery, only very few will ever get to see…))
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Schemes in the woods
Flannery followed the crow, that had called for her by circling above her, deeper into the woods. There in the shade, the bird sat on a branch and preened its shimmering black feathers. Still wearing the black high slit skirt and the wrapped black top that are usually her outfit for dancing practice, the artist blended quite well within the shadows of the forest and being barefoot, she moved as quiet as a cat that was sneaking up on its prey. She looked around attentively when she heard a familiar voice from behind the tree.
"Apparently, everything you've told me is true, Nightangel.
I was able to gather enough information to confirm the request.
But seriously, this place really does have some problems, even without serial killers."
“Yes, indeed. They are quite caught up in their quarrels, politics and intrigues. Even facing a common threat, they seem not to be able to work together. If they would at least share their information about the cases of murder, maybe they could protect their people better.”
“That’s not our concern and you know that. Even though he poses a threat to the whole peninsula, it was Runewick, that requested out help, without the other realms. Their politics must not matter to us.”
Flannery took a light breath, secretly gnawing on her lower lip. Runewick had never really requested the help of the Veils. In fact, when she had faked the request, no member of the council even knew about their existence. But when her lie was caught, she could be glad if her punishment was only a quick death. She was well aware, that she was playing a dangerous game. But it was her only chance to at least break free from the cruel grasp of the dark giant, she was already suffering for so long.
“I know. But this is a special situation.
We can’t take action, right away.
You can’t deal with him on your own.”
This was the critical point. Her hole plan was about to stand or fall, whether the Blade would buy it, or not. The woman in black stepped out from behind the tree, gazing her with an arched brow a glint of suspicion in her eyes, folding her arms.
“Why is that?!”
“They… request for the rule of exception.”
The Blade inhaled sharply, giving her stern and reproachful gaze. Keeping her voice low, it was yet filled with anger.
“You told them about that?! How could you!
He is a rogue and the Veils deal with the likes of him in their own way!
You know that very well! You had no right to do this!
Are you tired of living?! You know the rules of the codex!”
Now, Flannery was glad to be such a good actor. She was prepared for this moment. Despite knowing, her very life was at stake, she just shook her head and answered in a calm, low voice.
“I do. And I acted accordingly. As you said, he poses a threat to the whole region, not just one solicitant. He spreads terror and pain and has the peninsula in his murderous grasp. No one can know who his next victim might be, since he just acts on a whim! In such cases, the rule of exception does apply and thus, I was even obliged to tell them about it.”
Pondering, the woman in black slowly relaxed again, confirming her with a slow nod.
“You are right, Nightangel.
It just had been ages, since that rule was last applied.
So? How do they plan to act then?”
“The details have yet to be discussed.
Further, he is currently on a mission in Albar.
That buys us some time.
However, he should be back, soon.
It might take longer than that, to set things in motion.
So, I came up with a uncommon idea to make it harder for him to act, whiteout giving away that the Veils are after him.”
“Don’t talk in riddles, tell me about it!”
“As the realms fail to share information, I want you to snitch the details to everyone that was involved. Not to the public, that could cause a panic. But they shall decide on their own, what they will do with it. Maybe they can act accordingly, if they know the whole picture.”
Along with her explanation, she handed a list with names to her. The Blade took it, pondering about the idea.
“Quite a risky plan.
What if someone figures it out and will try to bring him down?
Are you willing to take that risk?”
“I trust in your abilities to prevent that.”
The woman gave her a dark smirk, but nodded then.
“Don’t push it too far, playing smart!
But you might have a point.
I’ll take care about it.”
With that she vanished into the shadows of the woods, as a breeze came up to play with the leaves. When being alone, Flannery let out a breath of relief. So far, everything was going according to her plan, at least concerning the cruel Blade...
Flannery followed the crow, that had called for her by circling above her, deeper into the woods. There in the shade, the bird sat on a branch and preened its shimmering black feathers. Still wearing the black high slit skirt and the wrapped black top that are usually her outfit for dancing practice, the artist blended quite well within the shadows of the forest and being barefoot, she moved as quiet as a cat that was sneaking up on its prey. She looked around attentively when she heard a familiar voice from behind the tree.
"Apparently, everything you've told me is true, Nightangel.
I was able to gather enough information to confirm the request.
But seriously, this place really does have some problems, even without serial killers."
“Yes, indeed. They are quite caught up in their quarrels, politics and intrigues. Even facing a common threat, they seem not to be able to work together. If they would at least share their information about the cases of murder, maybe they could protect their people better.”
“That’s not our concern and you know that. Even though he poses a threat to the whole peninsula, it was Runewick, that requested out help, without the other realms. Their politics must not matter to us.”
Flannery took a light breath, secretly gnawing on her lower lip. Runewick had never really requested the help of the Veils. In fact, when she had faked the request, no member of the council even knew about their existence. But when her lie was caught, she could be glad if her punishment was only a quick death. She was well aware, that she was playing a dangerous game. But it was her only chance to at least break free from the cruel grasp of the dark giant, she was already suffering for so long.
“I know. But this is a special situation.
We can’t take action, right away.
You can’t deal with him on your own.”
This was the critical point. Her hole plan was about to stand or fall, whether the Blade would buy it, or not. The woman in black stepped out from behind the tree, gazing her with an arched brow a glint of suspicion in her eyes, folding her arms.
“Why is that?!”
“They… request for the rule of exception.”
The Blade inhaled sharply, giving her stern and reproachful gaze. Keeping her voice low, it was yet filled with anger.
“You told them about that?! How could you!
He is a rogue and the Veils deal with the likes of him in their own way!
You know that very well! You had no right to do this!
Are you tired of living?! You know the rules of the codex!”
Now, Flannery was glad to be such a good actor. She was prepared for this moment. Despite knowing, her very life was at stake, she just shook her head and answered in a calm, low voice.
“I do. And I acted accordingly. As you said, he poses a threat to the whole region, not just one solicitant. He spreads terror and pain and has the peninsula in his murderous grasp. No one can know who his next victim might be, since he just acts on a whim! In such cases, the rule of exception does apply and thus, I was even obliged to tell them about it.”
Pondering, the woman in black slowly relaxed again, confirming her with a slow nod.
“You are right, Nightangel.
It just had been ages, since that rule was last applied.
So? How do they plan to act then?”
“The details have yet to be discussed.
Further, he is currently on a mission in Albar.
That buys us some time.
However, he should be back, soon.
It might take longer than that, to set things in motion.
So, I came up with a uncommon idea to make it harder for him to act, whiteout giving away that the Veils are after him.”
“Don’t talk in riddles, tell me about it!”
“As the realms fail to share information, I want you to snitch the details to everyone that was involved. Not to the public, that could cause a panic. But they shall decide on their own, what they will do with it. Maybe they can act accordingly, if they know the whole picture.”
Along with her explanation, she handed a list with names to her. The Blade took it, pondering about the idea.
“Quite a risky plan.
What if someone figures it out and will try to bring him down?
Are you willing to take that risk?”
“I trust in your abilities to prevent that.”
The woman gave her a dark smirk, but nodded then.
“Don’t push it too far, playing smart!
But you might have a point.
I’ll take care about it.”
With that she vanished into the shadows of the woods, as a breeze came up to play with the leaves. When being alone, Flannery let out a breath of relief. So far, everything was going according to her plan, at least concerning the cruel Blade...
Re: The Artist's Sketchbook
Return
It was the first light of dawn, when the copper-haired dancer unwillingly, but quietly snuck out of the flat of the Captain of the guard. Following the call of the messenger crow, she ventured deeper into the woods, where the woman in black was awaiting her in the protection of the misty shadows.
“I received your message, Nightangel.
Are you really sure you want to do this?
I can get it for you, but that plan is suicidal.”
“Please, I have my reasons.”
Flannery spoke with a calm, relaxed voice, while secretly being as tense as a bow. This was vital for her plan but if the Blade would get a hunch of her real motives to take this risk, all could be over before she could get to her final move. But the woman in black just gave her a smirk and nodded. Was she suspecting anything by any chance?
“Alright. But that means I will have to go to Gynk.
Stay careful, Nightangel. I’ll be back soon.”
Her last words were not even faded in the woods, when she already disappeared in the morning mist.
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A few days later…
It had been a while, since the new Blade, the woman in black had left for Gynk. Flannery was awaiting her return with tension and impatience and so, she followed the messenger crow to the small isle southwest of the wolf den, without thinking much about it. She took off her shoes and crossed the secret path that was hidden right beneath the surface of the sea, as the sun was sinking, setting the waves on fire. When the woman in black would have returned with what she asked for, all would be over soon. And with some luck, she would be free… well, almost free.
Thinking of the last night, a light smile brushed her lips as she set foot on the isle… just to die instantly as a shadow emerged from behind the Eldan Oak. Her eyes widened as she realised the truth.
This was not the Blade she was waiting for… not the woman in black! It was…!
She could not even finish her thought when he grabbed her right by her throat and pulled her up to stand on her toes.
“Got you, you useless, little bitch!”
He grawled with cold anger, giving her a gaze that would let her heart skip a beat. She clenched her fingers around his mighty wrist, struggling for breath, but he just kept holding her on the long arm, glaring at her while his grip tightened around her throat.
“Did you really think you would get away with this?!”
Her eyes widened. Did he learn somehow about her plans? About the other Blade? About the Veils knowing of his violation of the codex? Did he already know he was declared a rogue?? No! That was impossible! Right? Her thoughts started to race within her head as she stared at him in panic. He just nodded slowly.
“I see you know what you did…
Giving me false intel! It took me weeks to find the target!
Do you think I got time to waste?! Do you think, this is a joke?
Do you think …I… am a joke?! Huh?!”
With that, he tossed her to the ground.
Right, she had given him wrong information in order to buy some time and she knew, she would have to pay for it. But knowing does neither change facts, nor fears…
Coughing and catching for breath, she crawled backwards, trying to get away from him. He turned around at once, kicking her hard in the belly.
“No!, I’m not done with you!
You’re gonna pay for it!”
Her vision blurred for a moment but she grit her teeth, trying to suppress the pain. Another mistake, as it made him even more angry. For a moment, defiance flickered within her eyes, but she fought down the urge to resist. If she would reveal her secret training, she would lose her only chance to let him pay. All she could do for now, was enduring his rage. Somehow, she made it to the small column, trying to pull herself back on her feet, but he closed in to her with incredible speed and grabbed her upper arms. The next moment, he pushed her against the column and as her back hit hard against the stone, it felt like pressing the air from her lungs. While she still tried to get breath, he got behind her and twisted her arms behind the column. He kicked her feet off, letting her slide down the column while holding her arms in a tight grip, twisting them even further. She yelled up in pain as it felt like they could break any moment.
“This time, you won’t get away!
Better pray, someone comes looking for you!”
With those words, he pulled her up on her feet again, drawing another sound of agony from her lips. He tied her to the column with a thin rope made of thin, sharp wire. There was no way she would be able to slip out of it with her usual tricks, as the more she tried to move, the more the wire cut her skin.
“Struggle as much as you want, it will just get worse, little angel.”
He grinned at her before giving her a mocking bow and vanishing into the woods…
It was the first light of dawn, when the copper-haired dancer unwillingly, but quietly snuck out of the flat of the Captain of the guard. Following the call of the messenger crow, she ventured deeper into the woods, where the woman in black was awaiting her in the protection of the misty shadows.
“I received your message, Nightangel.
Are you really sure you want to do this?
I can get it for you, but that plan is suicidal.”
“Please, I have my reasons.”
Flannery spoke with a calm, relaxed voice, while secretly being as tense as a bow. This was vital for her plan but if the Blade would get a hunch of her real motives to take this risk, all could be over before she could get to her final move. But the woman in black just gave her a smirk and nodded. Was she suspecting anything by any chance?
“Alright. But that means I will have to go to Gynk.
Stay careful, Nightangel. I’ll be back soon.”
Her last words were not even faded in the woods, when she already disappeared in the morning mist.
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A few days later…
It had been a while, since the new Blade, the woman in black had left for Gynk. Flannery was awaiting her return with tension and impatience and so, she followed the messenger crow to the small isle southwest of the wolf den, without thinking much about it. She took off her shoes and crossed the secret path that was hidden right beneath the surface of the sea, as the sun was sinking, setting the waves on fire. When the woman in black would have returned with what she asked for, all would be over soon. And with some luck, she would be free… well, almost free.
Thinking of the last night, a light smile brushed her lips as she set foot on the isle… just to die instantly as a shadow emerged from behind the Eldan Oak. Her eyes widened as she realised the truth.
This was not the Blade she was waiting for… not the woman in black! It was…!
She could not even finish her thought when he grabbed her right by her throat and pulled her up to stand on her toes.
“Got you, you useless, little bitch!”
He grawled with cold anger, giving her a gaze that would let her heart skip a beat. She clenched her fingers around his mighty wrist, struggling for breath, but he just kept holding her on the long arm, glaring at her while his grip tightened around her throat.
“Did you really think you would get away with this?!”
Her eyes widened. Did he learn somehow about her plans? About the other Blade? About the Veils knowing of his violation of the codex? Did he already know he was declared a rogue?? No! That was impossible! Right? Her thoughts started to race within her head as she stared at him in panic. He just nodded slowly.
“I see you know what you did…
Giving me false intel! It took me weeks to find the target!
Do you think I got time to waste?! Do you think, this is a joke?
Do you think …I… am a joke?! Huh?!”
With that, he tossed her to the ground.
Right, she had given him wrong information in order to buy some time and she knew, she would have to pay for it. But knowing does neither change facts, nor fears…
Coughing and catching for breath, she crawled backwards, trying to get away from him. He turned around at once, kicking her hard in the belly.
“No!, I’m not done with you!
You’re gonna pay for it!”
Her vision blurred for a moment but she grit her teeth, trying to suppress the pain. Another mistake, as it made him even more angry. For a moment, defiance flickered within her eyes, but she fought down the urge to resist. If she would reveal her secret training, she would lose her only chance to let him pay. All she could do for now, was enduring his rage. Somehow, she made it to the small column, trying to pull herself back on her feet, but he closed in to her with incredible speed and grabbed her upper arms. The next moment, he pushed her against the column and as her back hit hard against the stone, it felt like pressing the air from her lungs. While she still tried to get breath, he got behind her and twisted her arms behind the column. He kicked her feet off, letting her slide down the column while holding her arms in a tight grip, twisting them even further. She yelled up in pain as it felt like they could break any moment.
“This time, you won’t get away!
Better pray, someone comes looking for you!”
With those words, he pulled her up on her feet again, drawing another sound of agony from her lips. He tied her to the column with a thin rope made of thin, sharp wire. There was no way she would be able to slip out of it with her usual tricks, as the more she tried to move, the more the wire cut her skin.
“Struggle as much as you want, it will just get worse, little angel.”
He grinned at her before giving her a mocking bow and vanishing into the woods…