The Depths of The Bloodstone (Closed)

There were times when Mandara thought she could get used to the calm and quiet life in the small city of Raven. When the biggest excitement she had experienced was when the occasional singing menstrual came through and entertain her or once when the son of a lord had spent the night in the Rusty Flask where she worked and had tipped her well. These thoughts of contentment were fleeting though. Mandara missed the ancient city of Valandra. She missed the hustle and bustle of the million people who called the coastal city home and the nearly as many who passed through it's gates and harbour each year. She missed the smells and the sounds. She missed the massive crowds and how easy it was to just disappear. To see a thousand faces in a day and know that it wasn't likely she would see any of them the next. She missed the feeling of a rich man's corn purse at it slipped from his belt. The feeling of excitement as she slipped her slender form through a slightly opened window to relieve a rich family of their excess. And, on occasion, the feeling of power she felt when she seduced a city guard into letting her slip away.


As much as she missed Valandra though, the fate that awaited her if she ever returned out weighed any home sick feelings she had. With no where to go and no option of returning, Raven was now Mandara's home, weather she liked it or not.

So when the summer blew in over the small mountain,Mandara welcomed the patrons as they found shelter from the storm in the Rusty Flask's common room. She ignored their grumbles about the watered down ale, the stein bread and the week old stew. With grace, the half elf manoeuvred amongst the dark room with a heavy tray of steins, spilling as little as possible.

The owner of the Rusty Flask was thrilled with a full house of patrons who had no where else to hide from the storm that could last for days. He stood behind the bar, filling stein after stein, grinning from ear to ear as he slowly drained all the coins from their pockets with each passing hour. Mandara on the other had was far from happy. She didn't really like her job, but that wasn't the issue tonight. There was a feeling in the air that she couldn't quiet describe. The room was dark and the corners were filled with people who hid their faces when she approached. The normal loud drunken' talk was no where to be found, replaced with whispers that ceased when she got close. Deep down, Mandara had a knot in her stomach. A feeling of being watched. The same feeling that would have made her drop whatever she had lifted, when still back in Valandra, and set her to flight, not daring to look back. But there was no where to run. Maybe it was just the storm. Mandara reasoned as she tucked her long red hair over her slightly pointed ears as she waited for her boss to refill her tray. As she waited, her large green eyes scanned the crowd one more time as she straightened the front of her tight white peasant blouse, making sure that the small gold chain and red stone pendent was out of sight. For the life of her, she couldn't see anything out of the normal. Maybe it was simple the mood of the crowd. She reasoned then turned back to the bar to retrieve the now full tray.

With some effort, Mandara hosted the tray onto her shoulder. It took her a moment to find her balance. It wasn't as easy for her to carry the heavy tray with grace as some of the other barmaids did. Her slender frame wasn't built for such tasks, unlike the others who were human and much stronger and bigger boned.

Slowly at first, the half elf, began to make her way through the crowd, setting each ordered drink down as she went and collecting each patron's coin in the pocket of her full, brown skirt. When the tray was nearly empty, a man sitting in the far corner, his hood shadowing his face from view, beckoned her with a wave. A little voice in the back of her mind began to scream “Run!!!! By all the God's you believe in and those you don't, Run!!!” Mandara paused for a moment then shook her head, dismissing it to being on edge from the storm. With a smile, the half elf set the tray on her hip and approached the shadowy patron. “What can I get for you?” Mandara asked sweetly.

He sat in the corner of this humble establishment. His blue eyes swept the room, casing the place, studying the entrances, the exits, the people that came and went… and her.

His eyes were no normal shade of green, they were a type of hazel, sometimes gray sometimes green, sometimes blue, sometimes with hints of a softer brown. He much more resembled his elven mother than his human father. His ears came to the delicate points of an elf’s although were concealed under his long black hair for the most part. His eyes were the right shape for someone of elven heritage. However, his eyes were not the green that should accompany those of a pureblood high elf but showed the mixed nature of his heritage.

This man had many names, the most common, and the name that was most feared in the lands of the humans was Brandon, sometimes Brandon the black hearted. His private name was Taurean. Most suspected he had an even more private name, given to him by his elven mother. However those in the know might also know that to Brandon, or was it Taurean, that elven boy had died the day he had lost his mother, and now Taurean and later Brandon had taken his place.

He folded his long fingers as he twirled the wine glass he held slowly staring briefly into the red depths. He took a second to collect his thoughts, reflect on how he had come to this point.

Taurean was a hunter plain and simple. He was a hunter of man. An assassin’s assassin. He typically took jobs acting as a vigilante sometimes for pay often not. When he took paid jobs he was hired to bring in high profile individuals in the underworld. Sometimes a bounty hunter, sometimes an assassin, Taurean got the job done.

This was a rare job. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done live delivery before, but there was something different about this job. He really couldn’t put his finger on it. He was to bring her back to the guild in Velandra, and bring the pendent she held with her. The job seemed simple on the surface. However, some digging had produced evidence that supported the woman posed no threat save to the chief lieutenant’s bid for guild master. Taurean hunted hardened criminals. He did not hunt lost young girls who simply fucked the wrong person at the wrong time.

All that being said, times had been heard of late and it wasn’t that Brandon needed the money, he had plenty, but he needed a challenge, wanted the thrill. Cut off from and denied access to his family, having been shunned by the elves, the hunt was all he had to live for at this point.

“More wine.” He said his words low and deep, slightly accented. Common wasn’t his first language, and her as a half elf as well could probably identify the elvish accent. Even though none of his face was visible with the cowl of his hood pulled low. The hands gripping the wine glass were pale and delicate, like those of an elf. He took the opportunity presented to look her over more closely. He knew looks could be deceiving yet still she did not seem the type to be able to suck the life out of her victims with the bloodstone pendent she was said to carry.

So as the storm raged outside and the clouds scudded across the dark sky the two got their first view of one another. Well, he got a full view of her, and she would have to make do with a vague suggestion as even sitting still he tended to blend into the shadows. His eyes were not visible but it was clear who he was staring at, his raptors gaze never leaving her as she had moved around the room and now that she stood before him. “And make it faywine if you have it.” He said. He was fairly sure that this human bar in a backwater town like Raven would not have the expensive elven wine, but he thought he would ask for it, throw it out there, hand her a little tidbit about him, and make her wonder just a little.

Again, Mandara felt a ting of fear. Something deep down inside, screaming "run!" but again she ignored it. It was just the storm that had her on edge. A bright flash came in through the window across the room, illuminating the faces of all the tired travelers followed by a clap of thunder that shook the building.

With a smile, Mandara reached out to take his glass. "There may be something under the bar but it might take more than a few coins..... but I'll see what I can do." As her hand wrapped around the stem, her soft fingers brushed against his hand. Mandara found herself holding her breath. She glanced up just as another bolt of lightening lit the room like mid day. Still she couldn't see his face but his eyes stood out. So deep. Something both called for her to gaze into them and still screamed to turn and run for her life. Grabbing the glass, she set it on the tray and with a shake of her head, she turned and headed for the bar.