Talon
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 29, 2000
- Posts
- 850
The Instrument of Vengeance. (Closed for hells_fury)
((OOC: Closed for hells_fury.))
Kale Serpenthelm. Hunter of Men, Stalker of Shadows and Bringer of Death. Kale had numerous titles associated with his name, depending on which tavern or dice table you frequented. None of his own creation and most mentioned amongst exaggerated tales that grew in scale nightly as the ale flowed freely. His truly earned title, Master Assassin of the Raven Thieves Guild, rolled off the tongue with far less dramatic flair. He was among the best assassins in the history of the lawless city of Kora, full of cutthroats, bandits and rogues, and ruled by Guilds such as the one that employed him. Assassins in Kora were treated with the same respect that a Knight would be in a lawful town, their skills compared in conversation as others might discuss tourney results. Only one other assassin was thought to approach Serpenthelm’s level of skill in all of Kora, The Scarlet Blade. Employed by a rival Thieves Guild, no one in the town had actually seen the Blade and lived to speak, some even thought Scarlet Blade to be no more than tavern tales. Kale had heard differently, that Scarlet Blade was certainly real, and certainly skilled.
Kale dipped his cupped hands into the water basin on his dresser, splashing water onto his face to wash away the sweat that had built on his brow. He was stripped to the waist, just having finished his morning physical routine, and wore only a simple pair of loose breeches and black slippers. He wasn’t a particularly large man, just over six feet in height, but every muscle in his body looked as if carved from stone. He was lean, not overly large and brutish, and had the developed physique of a warrior. When concealed beneath a cloak, nothing about his outward appearance would stick out in anyone’s memory, an important feature in a hired killer. He turned to look out over his small room, bare of decoration and color. His katana, his only valuable and highly prized possession, hung in its scabbard on a wooden stand built for that very purpose. A small chest of drawers contained his clothes and disguises, a small chest beside it to store his various other tools of the trade. Besides those things and a small bed, his room was empty. He settled into a seated position on the floor, rolling his shoulders to loosen his freshly exercised muscles and closing his eyes to settle into his afternoon meditation.
Several minutes passed of complete silence before the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing was interrupted by three loud knocks at the door. His sword had left its scabbard before the third knock was sounded, hilt and handle held in a two handed grip level with his right shoulder, his body crouched in a fighting stance. A slit in the center of the door was opened and a small wooden tube was slipped through, falling to the floor and rolling to stop a few feet away from him. Kale paused a few seconds before straightening and turning to return the sword to its scabbard. He bent to retrieve the wooden tube, turning it in his hands to scan it for traps before twisting it open and pulling the halves apart. This was the usual way the guild contacted him regarding his next target, the two pieces of parchment inside the tube would be the target’s description and whereabouts and a drawing of them if available. He tossed the open halves of the tube aside and unrolled the first parchment. He frowned as he read the first few lines. All written in code, his mind deciphered the secret language. “The Guild has declared war. Guildmaster’s son has been killed by the Scarlet Blade. You are the chosen instrument of vengeance.” According to this document the Scarlet Blade had fled the city, pursued by various bounty hunters and amateur hired killers in search of a reward. Last known location was in the foothills of the Heiron Mountains just south of Kora.
Kale felt anticipation building in the pit of his stomach. Finally he would be allowed to make an open move against the Blade and settle the question of who is the better warrior once and for all. He tossed the first parchment onto his bed and unrolled the second. His eyes widened as the rough coal drawn picture came into view. Surely this was a mistake. A joke. His hand crumbled the paper between his fingers as it closed into a fist. The Scarlet Blade was a woman?
((OOC: Closed for hells_fury.))
Kale Serpenthelm. Hunter of Men, Stalker of Shadows and Bringer of Death. Kale had numerous titles associated with his name, depending on which tavern or dice table you frequented. None of his own creation and most mentioned amongst exaggerated tales that grew in scale nightly as the ale flowed freely. His truly earned title, Master Assassin of the Raven Thieves Guild, rolled off the tongue with far less dramatic flair. He was among the best assassins in the history of the lawless city of Kora, full of cutthroats, bandits and rogues, and ruled by Guilds such as the one that employed him. Assassins in Kora were treated with the same respect that a Knight would be in a lawful town, their skills compared in conversation as others might discuss tourney results. Only one other assassin was thought to approach Serpenthelm’s level of skill in all of Kora, The Scarlet Blade. Employed by a rival Thieves Guild, no one in the town had actually seen the Blade and lived to speak, some even thought Scarlet Blade to be no more than tavern tales. Kale had heard differently, that Scarlet Blade was certainly real, and certainly skilled.
Kale dipped his cupped hands into the water basin on his dresser, splashing water onto his face to wash away the sweat that had built on his brow. He was stripped to the waist, just having finished his morning physical routine, and wore only a simple pair of loose breeches and black slippers. He wasn’t a particularly large man, just over six feet in height, but every muscle in his body looked as if carved from stone. He was lean, not overly large and brutish, and had the developed physique of a warrior. When concealed beneath a cloak, nothing about his outward appearance would stick out in anyone’s memory, an important feature in a hired killer. He turned to look out over his small room, bare of decoration and color. His katana, his only valuable and highly prized possession, hung in its scabbard on a wooden stand built for that very purpose. A small chest of drawers contained his clothes and disguises, a small chest beside it to store his various other tools of the trade. Besides those things and a small bed, his room was empty. He settled into a seated position on the floor, rolling his shoulders to loosen his freshly exercised muscles and closing his eyes to settle into his afternoon meditation.
Several minutes passed of complete silence before the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing was interrupted by three loud knocks at the door. His sword had left its scabbard before the third knock was sounded, hilt and handle held in a two handed grip level with his right shoulder, his body crouched in a fighting stance. A slit in the center of the door was opened and a small wooden tube was slipped through, falling to the floor and rolling to stop a few feet away from him. Kale paused a few seconds before straightening and turning to return the sword to its scabbard. He bent to retrieve the wooden tube, turning it in his hands to scan it for traps before twisting it open and pulling the halves apart. This was the usual way the guild contacted him regarding his next target, the two pieces of parchment inside the tube would be the target’s description and whereabouts and a drawing of them if available. He tossed the open halves of the tube aside and unrolled the first parchment. He frowned as he read the first few lines. All written in code, his mind deciphered the secret language. “The Guild has declared war. Guildmaster’s son has been killed by the Scarlet Blade. You are the chosen instrument of vengeance.” According to this document the Scarlet Blade had fled the city, pursued by various bounty hunters and amateur hired killers in search of a reward. Last known location was in the foothills of the Heiron Mountains just south of Kora.
Kale felt anticipation building in the pit of his stomach. Finally he would be allowed to make an open move against the Blade and settle the question of who is the better warrior once and for all. He tossed the first parchment onto his bed and unrolled the second. His eyes widened as the rough coal drawn picture came into view. Surely this was a mistake. A joke. His hand crumbled the paper between his fingers as it closed into a fist. The Scarlet Blade was a woman?
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