Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Sun Jun 16, 2013 6:55 pm

[ It was fine. I like longer replies. They’re always fun to read. You’re a really good writer, you know that? I’m sorry I didn’t get to know that during the year. It would’ve been fun to discuss story plots and whatnot…if you’re into doing that kind of thing, I mean. But yeah. xD It was awesome to read. Worth the wait. Lots of fun. ]
 
Amalina hated any place that sold drinks. They always smelled, and the ruckus was just plain annoying. Drunk men were always ten times louder than they needed to be. She couldn’t say drunk women were all too much better, but… She’d never been much of a drinker. Hardly ever, considering her occupation. She never had any time to be in pubs to begin with. Either way, she hated them. And she was beginning to hate the courier more and more for coming into one of these places. She supposed it was to be expected, though. Maybe she was stereotyping, but it seemed common for men and their friends to come here. Either way, being around so many drunk and rowdy people made her want to keep a dagger at the ready just in case someone got the wrong idea, or was too drunk to know the difference between a right and wrong idea. She really didn’t want to cause a scene, but she swore if her personal bubble was broken something was bound to go down, and it wasn’t going to be pretty either. She let her attention wander, for one of the first times in ages, looking over all the people and sizing them up, like she’d done to so many others so many times before. Nobody in here posed a threat, especially not with all the ale they were consuming. For God’s sake, these people… Amalina sighed and waved her hand in front of her face. Shallow breaths and pretending she was in a different place was going to be the only thing that was going to get her through this little…‘break.’ She mentally cursed herself for being so distracted, but there wasn’t much else she could do right now besides wait for it all to be over. For this living hell to be completed with. Oh, there were some parts of her job she loathed. This was definitely one of them. She let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through her hair. She watched the courier and his friend with obvious disinterest for a little bit longer before nearly slamming her head against the table. Was there nothing else she could do? Why could he be moving? She would die to be able to be up and moving, following the trail and not just sitting in some…some…lowly, good-for-nothing drunk-house.
 
Amalina had nearly decided to just get up and wait outside in one of the alleyways when someone came over with a scroll and a drink. She nodded a little bit before sighing, “How thoughtful,” she said through almost gritted teeth. “Give them my thanks.” She glanced over to catch the guard waving, a grin on his face that she wouldn’t mind smacking off. “You shouldn’t have,” she said sweetly to no one but herself before darkening her expression. She gave a sweet smile and waved her fingers back at the guard, though her eyes showed no kindness. Nothing positive. She gritted her teeth before glancing at the scroll. “What a lovely present…” she said with a quiet sigh, eyeing a group of drunk men at the table beside hers, her mood only darkening when they caught her look and laughed amongst themselves. I hate this place…but at I’ve got to keep my cool. It’s not professional to lose my control. But honestly. This place…
 

[ akjthjdghiethdjaghakdjghkdskjadfjghaeiulthalerjg bad reply. Bad bad bad bad bad bad BAD reply. ]
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Re: Silva's Courier

Post by Amalgamator on Sun Jun 16, 2013 7:25 pm

(I would've liked to get to know you and the others too, but I have a passive tendency to AVOID PEOPLE AT ALL COST!!! Hah. Ahem. Anyways, thanks for the compliments, much appreciated. Also, it would seem that every post you make has a comment involving a self-critique on its quality. I don't know if it is consciously done, but I'd be happy to read your response no matter the quality, thus no self-critique is necessary on your part.)

As the wench left the table, Demetri looked at Neilach, still grinning warmly as he whispered, "She might not read it," reaching for his mug of ale and finishing the mug in one quick swig after his comment, dizzily placing the cup back down from the quantity of alcohol. The wench passed by the two of them as she made her way back to the kegs to get the other mug that Demetri paid for, her un-padded feet pattering against the alcohol-splattered floor with each step.

Neilach placed his empty mug on the table and wiped the froth off his lip once again, unphased by the hearty poison as he coldly responded, "My friend ain't dumb enough to miss the fate signet." as he looked around at the various folks of the bar, his back ramrod straight in his seat as he looked around at the drunk folks in the bar, "besides," he continued, "nothing else to do in this dump."

Demetri withdrew slightly, straightening his back and placing the mug back on the table harshly as he heard the latter point, then quickly argued, "This is the most popular pub in town! How could ye' insult 'er like that?" with a falsely accusational tone.

The courier grinned as a mug flew over his head, heading straight toward a man at a table across from his own as he replied, "Because not a single man here's got a rumor to tell," he then paused as the man who got hit by the mug quickly shot up and spun around, looking around in furious anger for the drunk idiot responsible.

"HEY!" the man shouted, the murmur of the pub undisturbed by the shout, "WHO'S THE PIGHEAD WHO LOST THEIR MUG?" he continued, looking at the general direction of the courier. Another man between Amalina's and the pair's table stood up and shouted, "Hey! Could ye' toss it back? I seem to have lost mine!" followed by a fit of furious laughter by the other men at his table. The angry man then clenched the mug in his hand and put his whole body into a heavy throw, aiming the mug straight at the man's head, but missing, sending the mug straight towards Amalina's chest instead.

While this was happening, the courier sighed and collected his cloak, watching the wench walk back towards them with a fresh mug of ale. The courier pointed toward the angry man who threw the mug and quickly, warmly said, "Hostility in a bar means you haven't drank enough, good sir. Have another," motioning for the wench to bring the frothy mug to the man while doing so. The result of this was the angry man mumbling to himself and sitting down along with the man who 'lost' his cup, the latter man's friends still laughing drunkenly.

(Forgot to mension: The signet on the letter is a stamp of a needle and thread with two crossed scimitars in front of it)


Last edited by Amalgamator on Sun Jun 16, 2013 7:34 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : description)
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Sun Jun 16, 2013 7:50 pm

[ Well…it’s subconscious critiquing that comes out in conscience comments. If that makes sense. But thank you. I’ll try not to do it… ]

Amalina picked up the scroll and turned it over in her hands a few times, absentmindedly admiring the parchment (no…no not really). She glanced at the signet before giving a wry smile. She looked over at the table with her dear friends the courier and his guard before raising an eyebrow as she watched a mug fly over the courier’s head and hitting another man. She couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but mentally braced herself for more flying mugs. She hated these places. Couldn’t these people just relax? She supposed ale either relaxed or amped people up. She sighed and shook her head, her eyebrows knitted tightly together in vexation. She looked over as another man shouted back to the man who’d been hit. You’re all driving me out of my mind. An assassin isn’t supposed to be in a pub. I need to get out of here before I really do go insane. Amalina took her cloak and replaced it to its rightful place, the old fabric resting comfortably on her shoulders, the hood lying uselessly against her back.  She placed the scroll delicately inside her leather jerkin of sorts and, shook her head a bit. She returned her gaze to the man who said that he’d lost his ale mug. Her eyes flitted over to the man who still held the ale. She blinked for a second when she realized the thrown mug wasn’t going to its target at all. Instinctively she held out her hands. She hissed quietly when she barely managed to catch the mug, slamming it down on the table, some of the frothy ale from her own, untouched mug sloshing out the sides. “Well that’s enough excitement for one night,” she murmured sourly, getting to her feet and taking a centering breath. This was definitely not the place for her to be. She’d rather go outside, read the letter, and wait for her ‘friend’ to come out whenever he did. She’d wait all night if she had to. With determined strides, she made her way out of the pub, shooting her generous ‘ale-donors’ a glare over her shoulder as she exited the pub. The semi-fresh air of the outside came as a welcome relief and she let out a deep sigh. “Never stepping foot in one of those places again…whether it be for work or not. You could never pay me enough…” she muttered angrily, moving into the nearest alley to read what she’d received. 
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Re: Silva's Courier

Post by Amalgamator on Sun Jun 16, 2013 8:24 pm

Demetri chuckled as he watched Amalina catch and place the projectile on the table, turning to see the angry man accept the ale, eagerly drinking the toxin to calm himself down. The burly guard then turned back to Neilach, still grinning slyly and asked, "How long until we leave? I'll admit, this place looses its appeal after a serving of fog."

Neilach sighed, looking over at the hired blade's figure as she left the pub silently, grinning and turning around as he responded, "I'd say another three minutes. The words of Gartbey are never without flair." After saying this, he relaxed his back, closing his eyes for a moment as he rested at long last. "Remind me to kick whoever's idea it was to meet here."

Demetri chuckled warmly once more, a somewhat sadistic smile on his face as he watched a group of morbidly drunk men laugh, responding, "My pleasure, Neilach."

-----------

The Fate Signet Letter:
Adressed to: Thornton, Amalinda, the flawless.
From: Gartbey the Harold


    In recent days, the town of Moirith has experienced plenty of political trauma, the likes of which have surpassed all past times. Of course, you do not care for our fair town, do you? You have been assigned the task to retrieve a letter from a Silvan courier along the Northern Galacia Forest, given to you by an anonymous fellow. This task was given so as to lead you into our fair town gently. Your next task will likely not be as gentle.


    Three princes vie for power, Edmund the Great, Chargrif the Sinner, and Malroy Lackland. All of these three princes are corrupt, selfish and greedy, however they are all equally powerful, noble and well-spoken, providing a tricky predicament. Your task is not, however, to kill, just as your last task was not specifically designed to be.


    It is dangerous to make a letter, even to you, flawless blade, because matters happen to be unbelievably complex around town. I am the Harold, as the address entails, and thus you can find me in the center of the town as of sunrise tomorrow morning. The courier you undoubtedly chased into town will lead you to the Poppyseed Inne, unless you have decide to find your own haven in our harlot of a town.


    Your second task, at last. As of sundown tomorrow should you collect 'The Red Rose,' a book, from the library of Edmund the Great, you will be offered a trade of 40 pieces of gold for said book, along with your next task, should you be able to do so by sunset. The library's location can be found under your head tonight.


   Sleep well,
-Gartbey the Harold


(I will be working at a sailing camp for the entirety of the following business week, so please do not wait for me all day tomorrow, or the following few days. I may be back by 4 or 5.)
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Sun Jun 16, 2013 8:49 pm

Amalina gave a quiet sigh as she settled down onto the dirty less-than-paved alley, unrolling the scroll with a little bit of hesitancy. The fact she was given this by the man she’d been chasing really did get on her nerves a bit. Why had she been chasing someone who was planning on giving her what she undoubtedly needed in the first place? She had one of those feelings again. It was going to be a long night. Restless and hardly worth staying awake for, but being unable to sleep. Great. This was just what she needed. Her eyes scanned the letter once, twice, three times for good measure before rolling it up and resting her head against the building that helped create one of the sides of the alley. So it was true. She’d been chasing someone who had already been intending on giving her what she’d been sent to retrieve in the first place. What was wrong with these people? Did people no longer have any sense of decency? Amalina snorted, “And that’s coming from the woman who kills people for a living,” she murmured. She shook her head and placed her palm against her forehead, skimming the letter yet again. Gartbey was sure right about one thing: she could care less about this place. He was a strange one, Gartbey. Ah well. As long as the pay was even moderately good, she would accept her task and complete it without fail. Flawlessly, as it would seem Gartbey would put it. But this meant she’d be tagging along with that courier and his friend for a bit longer. Great. So she’d have to make relative peace with him. Amalina was quickly learning that she’d gotten into something more than she thought she would’ve been getting into when she’d first signed up to retrieve the letter. She wouldn’t have minded killing off two of the three princes if she’d been asked for. Not killing was a break from her usually fast-paced life.  Amalina slid up the side of the building until she was on her feet again, her determination renewed and her will solidified against, all annoyances pushed out of her mind. This was a time for professional work, not for petty sentiments like being irked with someone. Even though she couldn’t help but still be a bit irked at everyone. She hated being messed with like this. She returned the scroll to its place inside her jerkin and let out a sigh, her eyes traveling to the door of the pub as she pulled her hood over her face and waited for her new ‘coworker’ to come out.
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Re: Silva's Courier

Post by Amalgamator on Mon Jun 17, 2013 3:07 pm

About three minutes elapsed since Amalinda left the pub, thus Neilach said, "It's time," as he put on his dirty black cloak once again, standing up in the process. Demetri placed his long sword over his back and followed Neilach as they made their way toward the door. A drunk man passed by, stopping in their path and laughing at them, thus Neilach swiftly swung around him and Demetri violently pushed the man back in his seat, snarling, "Behave," in a menacing tone while doing so.

After the door to the pub swung back, Neilach and Demetri left, walking on the route to their next destination, assuming their 'friend' would follow them should she so desire. "Demetri," Neilach started, looking back at the burly man, "did you recognize those two men?" he asked, pausing slightly in his step as he waited for a response.

Demetri nodded, clearing his throat before solemnly responding, "Father Benvoy and Sir Honesto, should my memory serve me."

Neilach nodded, frowning as he continued on, right beside his companion. A few seconds passed, few people moved around in the streets, just the occasional harlot, or a drunk who forgot his mug. Neilach found words and mused, "I wonder what the requiem has to do with this," his eyes wandering from torch to torch lazily as he continued walking.

Demetri sighed and shook his head, responding, "I'm sure it's worth the effort, don't think too much, friend," his voice unamused, "Thinking leads to doubt." They both looked at each other after Demetri said this, then grinned smugly and chuckled, continuing through the torch-lit, musky streets of Moirith under the gaze of the bright, crescent moon.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Mon Jun 17, 2013 4:39 pm

Amalina watched until the two came out of the pub and continued on their merry way. Her eyes examined the pub’s door for a few more seconds before she exited the alleyway and made her way down the street behind her new associates and his friend. Unless his friend was also in on everything… Great. People. More people. She hated having to deal with people. It just wasn’t how she rolled. She could deal with one person – one employer – but aside from that she’d rather work things out on her own. It was much faster that way. But, seeing as she was nothing but a hired blade, she didn’t choose who she worked with. Or how many she worked with, for that matter, either. She’d just have to stick it out until the job was over.

She kept her eyes out and watched as she past people in the alleys who looked out at the passersby with lean and hungry looks in their eyes. She returned the gazes she met with an inferno of her own, often causing the onlookers to look away from her. Good. She liked it better when people didn’t try and challenge her self-appointed authority. She glanced up at the moon as it hung, lonely, in the night sky, illuminating the dirtied walkways of Moirith. A decent ways a head of her the courier and the guard walked, looking to be in the middle of a mildly fulfilling conversation. Something tells me this is going to take longer than I’d anticipated… Fantastic. 
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Re: Silva's Courier

Post by Amalgamator on Mon Jun 17, 2013 6:07 pm

(I typed a long response, then this website logged me out and I lost everything I wrote right after I pressed send. Detestable, especially considering I'm in a rush to finish a sailing course online. I likely will not use as much flair in my writing, this time, as a result.)

Neilach nodded at Demetri after a few minutes of walking, then they both turned down an alley beside the Poorlan's Inne, the alley clean of drunks and trash, for the most part. Demetri led the way through the alley, eyeing the rustic, wooden Inn beside him with curiosity as he turned to open the door. Demetri led Neilach into the room, the two workers awake at that hour looking over at the hulking mass, then going back to their work, intimidated.

The two of them stopped in front of the counter that the Inn Keeper stood behind and cleared his throat, waiting for the plump man to hobble over. After a few seconds, the jingling of keys and the steps of the plump, stumpy man resounded through the wooden room as the Inn Keeper made his way over to the two of them, holding out a key. Demetri and Neilach barely held back their hysteria as the man offered them the keys, but Demetri managed to take one of the keys and point towards the door they just entered through before letting out a quiet chuckle.

The creaking of wood and the sound of quill on paper surmised the only sound in the room as the Inn Keeper humorously hobbled over to the door, Demetri and Neilach meanwhile climbing up the short set of stairs up to their room, silent beside their footsteps. After walking through the candle-lit hallway leading to their room, Demetri slammed the key into the lock and ripped off the rusty piece of metal, grimacing at the high-pitched sound it made in the process.

The two of them entered their room quickly, Demetri washing his face in a crystal washbowl on a table near the door as Neilach headed over to the wardrobe. A single, large candle lit the small room from its perch on a table. Neilach opened the wardrobe and pulled out the clothes within, a black and red-leather shirt for slightly more protection than his courier outfit, a pair of blue pants similar in weave to denim, and a thick white-and-black robe with plenty of streaks and markings.

Neilach held the robe over his body and grinned at Demetri, asking the hulk, "Does this make my face look fat?" as he sarcastically mimicked the voice of a lady, grinning slyly. Demetri looked up as Neilach played his joke, then laughed for a half minute before walking over and slapping his friend on the back modestly, responding, "You rest up, friend. Your job requires no less than mine."

Neilach nodded, changing into the shirt and pants as he threw his previous guise into the wardrobe. "I suppose I could sleep a few winks," Neilach mused, heading toward his sleeping mat. The window cast the glimmer of the beautiful crescent moon once again onto the dark, wooden floor of their room. As the candle was blown out, the two men lay their heads to rest, falling to silence quickly as the few remaining hours of the night wore on.

--
Letter to Flawless Blade(under pillow of sleeping mat):
Addressed to: Flawless Blade


Your destination is known as Longridge, a library within the College of Moirith in the Eastern Wing of our fantastic, flawed town. Should you wish to enter the college unnoticed, it is advised you wear the college gown provided in your wardrobe(the thick, white and black robe with a few large pouches in it). Map provided.


--


(The picture of the map is written crudely on a course piece of paper. Moirith is a oddly-shaped hexagon with five sections outlined: An Eastern wing, a Northern wing, a Western wing, a central castle surrounded by a large, thick wall, and the Southern entrance to Moirith with its fairly large gate. Through the entire town is a main path which goes through the middle, branching off in the Northern wing slightly and re-aligning in the Western ring until it loops back to the end of the Eastern wing again. Each separation in the buildings has a branching path, and each separation between the smaller buildings is an alleyway. A compass is drawn on the upper-right hand of the paper for orientation, and the College of Moirith is noted on the map, as well as Longridge library.)
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Wed Jun 19, 2013 11:31 pm

 [ It’s fine. I finally got some of my muse back, even if it IT 1:17 am xD ]
 
Amalina followed at a relatively slow pace, taking in the scenery as it blended from rather drunken and unappealing to less alcohol-drowned and a bit more on the pleasant side. She never really took the time to stop and admire things, seeing as that wasn’t what she was paid for, but if she stopped, Moirith wasn’t too bad. It was pretty bad, but she’d definitely seen worse. A lot worse. With a quiet sigh, she watched with disinterest as the moon rose higher into the sky, staying outside the inn until the moon was nearly all the way up in the sky before entering. She was greeted by the sight of a man easily seven times larger in girth than her. Even with the relative emotionlessness of an assassin, it took her a bit of effort from making a face at him. She could believe some people ‘let themselves go,’ as some said, but letting oneself go this much was almost unbelievable to her. Sure, she’d seen her fair share of people in varying shapes and sizes…but this was definitely a first. She cleared her throat politely and took the key offered her before heading to her room. It’d been a while since she’d slept with a roof over her head. She usually preferred the comfort of a secure tree branch or the like, but having a place meant for resting for once was a welcome change. She let out a quiet sigh and made her way over to the window when she entered her room and stared at the moon. First night in a while where I suppose I won’t have to be on my guard…at least, not for the most part. I’m not used to sleeping in peace. Amalina removed her cloak and glanced at the ruined hem for a second before shrugging and tossing it onto the floor and taking out the scroll she’d received earlier (still which she was incredibly peeved to know she hadn’t had to thieve to receive). It’d been said that the location of the library would be found ‘under her head tonight.’ Amalina destroyed the old message, having memorized its contents as much as she needed to, and put the small pieces in the candle, watching them burn slowly one by one before finding the new message she’d be needing for her next assignment. She found it without difficulty, under this night’s pillow, reading over it quickly. Along with it a map was given to her. Amalina’s eyes scanned over the map a few times before nodding and falling back lazily onto the sleeping mat, one hand resting on her forehead as she stared up at the ceiling. She supposed it’d be best to get some real rest before going out on her ‘journey’ to the library.
Just to be certain, she checked the wardrobe before heading to bed, looking at the attire given for her with distaste. Blending in was and was not her specialty – if she cared all that much for it she would not have clothed herself with a white cloak. Either way…this would make things easier in the long run. Cover a yawn with the back of her hand she returned to her mat and, after watching the moon for what seemed like hours, let a light sleep possess her.
 

[ I know this didn’t give you much to work with… sorry! ]
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Re: Silva's Courier

Post by Amalgamator on Thu Jun 20, 2013 7:30 pm

An hour before the sun set, the actual time that the morning started in Moirith, Demetri rose from his bed and crackled his joints starting with his neck, then his spine, his ankles, his hands, and finally his jaw. He then stretched out a few muscles slowly to get out a bit of soreness and washed his face in the water basin by the door, neglecting to light the candle. "Time to shine, Hildervine," the bulky guard murmured, grinning at Neilach with his water-soaked face.

Neilach yawned and stretched slightly, hearing his partner's wake-up call with distaste, and rose from his bed slowly, his joints groaning in defiance. After getting out of bed and dawning his black and white scholar robe, Neilach responded, "Very well, Arkivell," as he stretched out his limbs as well, watching Demetri from his peripheral vision in the limited light. "You first, no suspicion," he continued, cracking his spine slightly as he looked out the window, watching as the merchants set up their stalls for the day.

Demetri nodded, then left the room without a word, tossing the lock back to Neilach for safekeeping. Very few sounds resonated from the streets, less than there had been earlier that night, but a few thumps from the Inn Keeper falling down a small staircase was enough to wake anyone up. Neilach locked the door behind Demetri as the burly guard quietly walked towards the staircase, making to leave the Inn.

The candles were down to stubs, the smell of smoke filled the air and the scent of flowers resonated from the floor above, possibly due to a spill of fragrance. Demetri hopped down the stairs, trying unsuccessfully to be quiet, and thundered out the door, wood creaking underfoot as he went. A few of the thinner workers looked over to see the source of the sound, however they were still too intimidated to watch for too long. The hulk slammed through the door, again, trying not to damage anything or make sound, and rushed out of the alley, grinning at various people as they walked bye.

The streets were once again full of people, however the drunks were all asleep still. The merchants sold everything from fine fabrics to kites to toys to jewelry, food, clothes, blades, torches, inventions and even fragrances. Most of the intimidating, creepy and weird figures lining the streets of the night were replaced with nosy, annoying merchants who did not find any man too intimidating to stop.

"Sir, may I interest you in..." a merchant started, holding a fine pearl necklace before the towering torso of Demetri. The merchant did not get a chance to continue, because Demetri gently forced the small merchant out of his path, continuing on his way without a word. Another few merchants attempted to catch the guard's attention, but to no avail. Demetri had a job to do, and he did not want to miss the chance to do it.

Meanwhile, Neilach watched from the window, pulling out a sleek, thin spike* from his stocking. "It shouldn't resort to it..." Neilach mused, frowning as he cautiously twirled the perfect, sharp metal spike around in his hand, "but knowing miss flawless, it will." He gripped the spike in his hand, both points sticking out either side of his clenched fist as he tensed up his hand muscle and thought, I can hope I planned right, as he replaced the spike in a strong, unnoticeable pouch in his stocking as he continued looking out the window, watching his companion storm through the street. I can hope he planned it right, he continued, sighing.

    *Spike: A Bo-Shuriken like metal throwing-knife with no blade, only one(or in this case two) points(one per side) formed to have a smooth, straight or barely curved body for no-spin throwing.(meant to distract, or to be used in combat to pierce weak spots in armor due to its light weight and sharpness)
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Fri Jul 05, 2013 8:15 pm

“Dislike,” Amalina said as she gazed upon the fabrics of the new ‘uniform’ she was to wear. It wasn’t as if she had much of a choice, and as long as she got paid well at the end of all this, she really could care less about what she had to wear and what she had to do. Where she had to go…who she had to kill…who she didn’t have to kill….they were all nonissues to her. Most people would disagree – most people meaning most assassins - with her ‘logic’ but an assassin wasn’t paid to have a heart. No, it was just the opposite, in fact. Man, woman, royalty, peasant, king, thief…she wasn’t partial to whom she killed (except for children; she wouldn’t go that far). Sighing a little bit, she slipped the unappealing college gown on over her usual attire – she felt more comfortable that way – and stared out the window. She picked out the guard rom earlier. If she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with all sorts of people, she’d admit she’d be intimidated of him, whether it be a little or a lot. It seemed she wouldn’t be alone, if she were a normal commoner. Most others seemed to be intimidated of him, as well. He seemed much different last night drinking with his friend than he did now, storming through the streets as if he was set on killing. I’ve been roped into a very strange job, I can tell that much right now. I wonder when the college is most busy? I want to go when there’s enough people that no one will spare me a second glance. It would’ve been helpful knowing when most people are out and about… I suppose this will be a hit or miss type thing today, won’t it? Amalina guessed she could always go and find the courier and see if he had any idea when most people were around, but the least amount of socialization she could have with him (or his friend) the better. She was still holding a silent grudge on him – and his friend (those two…) – for what’d happened.
Amalina sighed and pulled her hair away from her face, fishing for a spare twine to tie it back with. She rarely wore her hair away from her face – considering it hid her features better – but having your hair in your face to hide most of your features wasn’t normal for a college-goer, she supposed. But hey, what did she know? Better safe than sorry. And boy, did she have the strangest feeling she was going to regret doing this. Amalina sighed and moved away from the window, plopping down on the bed and lighting another candle to burn the newest note. She had mentally stored away all information she knew she’d need before getting rid of the notes. It was times like this that she was glad she had a good memory – it made her life much easier. For half a second, she debated going out and just exploring a little bit, to kill some time. She’d go in the late morning/early afternoon. For now, she had time to kill, and she didn’t know how to kill it. Usually she’d throw her dagger at the wall and see if she could hit a certain dent or something, but she doubted the innkeeper would be too thrilled if he had random places in his wall where her dagger had stuck. Flopping back down onto the bed, she stared over at the flame of the candle as it greedily ate up the remainders of the note she’d been given the smell filling her room, an oddly pleasant odor. As soon as the paper had disappeared completely, she looked up at the ceiling, Ah, Amalina. What’re you going to do with yourself now?

[ I know it’s annoying when I say things like this, and I’m sorry…but I know this reply isn’t very good and it hardly gave you anything to work with. I’m kind of still in the process of getting my brain to work again… Gomenesai. ]
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Fri Jul 05, 2013 10:00 pm

(Yurusa, Greed. Improvisation takes inspiration. Planning leads to action. With neither, little is accomplished. Just extend your perspective on time(as if time moves faster) and try to imagine your character's daily life outside of her occupation, if you need too. Also, you have plenty of time to respond now, because I'll be in Cali for the next two weeks, possibly online at some point, so take as much time as you want to think up something 'good.'

Do not worry about making up activities in the town if need be, anything remotely related to the setting is fair game, and there are multitudes of people with thousands of occupations to choose from, including other pugnacious assassins.)

Demetri continued through the semi-busy streets of Moirith as he made his way towards the East wing. The figure's leather armor crackled softly from stress as the figure paved his way through the merchants, carefully moving the nosy men aside as he darted by. On his face was a solemn look, one of a man with built emotions, hiding his thoughts, almost unreadable. As was the look he was used to carry as a guard, his memories, thoughts, emotions, rejections, opinions and biases meaningless in the cause of protection. He was taught to be a wall, taught to fight, taught to kill, taught to be killed, and taught to die with honor.

Either way, the ant-like merchants did not bother to stop the guard after a certain distance. Near the Southern wing, the entrance to Moirith, the merchants knew Demetri and the guards, taking a liking to keep their money and goods. The Guards of Moirith had a tendency to 'collect taxes' if a merchant got too pushy or 'attached.' Demetri was a more honest, friendly guard in comparison to the others, but the merchants still weaved their ways out of his general path, recognizing the armor pattern.

The hulk did not stop even for a moment as the morning aged on, for each moment was value. The guard needed to haul himself over to the college before too long or his position would be filled. The college was within sight already, but the guard did not waver in his pace, and continued his brisk speed walk straight through the street. By the time he had reached the grand admission building, the gate having not been closed, the sun had fully risen, its fiery splendor radiating for all the world to see, whether it wanted too or not. The guard paused in the middle of the courtyard, eyeing a few of the scholars already present, then immediately made his way towards the main building, the Lordsman's building, the structure containing Longridge in the upper floors. The guard wanted to be quick, however, with not a guard in sight, he felt no need to rush any more. He gently opened the grand, iron-buckled, maple wood door and, in as graceful a way as he could manage, entered the building.

As the sun fully rose over the horizon, Neilach got up, walked over to the door, took the key and lock, then left his room, closing the door and locking the lock behind him, keeping the key. He had already switched shoes to a more fancy pair which had been hidden in one of the bottom compartments, shined and cleaned profusely for the occasion, and he had washed his hands and face thoroughly with the water basin, even scenting his hair with mint to add to his prestige. The courier wore the same scholarly robe that most of the more intelligent scholars wore, striding his way through the hotel with an entirely different mannerism than before, a look on his face similar only to that of a condescending frown, of distaste. He waltzed down the stairs with an air of prestige and continued through the inn's lobby, posture upright, nose high, shoes clean, face, hair and hands washed, and a general look of professionalism. Hanging from his pocket was a group of paper scrolls, sealed in red wax, all of which had random titles and addresses the likes of which were written in fancy pen, but had no actual meaning.

His entire persona had changed in a matter of seconds. No longer was he the courier the town had seen him as. He was now a scholar, one of the greater scholars of Moirith, carrying with him the very essence of snobbery the royalty of the town wove around like the money they so eagerly spent. Neilach approached the Inn keeper, pulling the key from his pocket and dropping it onto the table with a petty clank. The Inn keeper looked up at the odd fellow with a raised eyebrow, however he knew better than to ask the man's name, for he had a letter explaining the event before him already, he knew what to expect, but he was still inquisitive as to the intent of the oddity.

The scholar quickly turned around, his clean shoes gripping the rough wood below, then continued in his masquerade immediately toward the door, every step carrying an inherent authority. Few in the lobby looked over to observe the humorous figure in his disguise, but the few who did were sold as to his imposture. After leaving the building, Neilach followed the path that Demetri had taken earlier, far behind but not the least bit hurried.

The streets were bustling with action as the sun slowly rose higher, each minute adding another few faces to the streets of the busy town. The drunks, angry from hangover, fought in the alleys fairly often, their brawls resulting in local guards reprimanding them. The merchants sold every conceivable object, from weapons to foreign fruits to 'flying shoes,' and even offered hair cuts to those willing to offer their head. Neilach browsed a few stalls as he let the sun rise, not caring the least bit for any of the merchandise as he acted as if he cared. The merchants apparently believed in his imposture as well, for they targeted the scholar primarily under assumption that he had great wealth.

Pickpockets were non-present in the busy streets, mostly due to the number of patrolling guards. Even the random performers were carefully observed by the men in suits of leather, each juggled knife under a watchful pair of eyes. Little yelling was heard, as little yelling was needed in the bustle of the town. There was a great deal of noise from all the conversation, but only the harolds needed to speak above the crowds, and they were mostly gathered in the Northern and Southern wing of town, near the Central castle.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Mon Jul 29, 2013 7:55 pm

[ Well considering your last post was a month and nine days ago…I decided I needed to get my act together and start posting. But because I’m kind of pushing myself here I realize that this post won’t be as long nor as good as it could be, but I’m hoping that by forcing myself to write I’ll get back into the swing of things and everything will smooth out from here on out. Let’s do this thing. ]

After a while Amalina decided staying in the room that smelled of burning parchment wasn’t as much fun as going around and being able to explore a little bit would be. Plus, if she got to know the layout of the town even a little, she’d feel more comfortable here. Of course, dressed like a scholar, she wasn’t to be running around in the alleyways and slinking around like an assassin. No, she’d have to observe the busy streets from the streets, even if that wasn’t exactly her ‘style,’ if one wanted to actually call it that. Either way, although she couldn’t possibly remember every detail from one quick sweep on the way to the college, she’d have a general idea of the place, and so she’d enjoy taking her sweet time to get there. Might as well browse some of the opened merchant stalls too, even though she never spent money on things that merchants sold, really, only necessities. It seemed most merchants around here didn’t really care what you bought as long as you bought it, but then again, what merchant didn’t think like that? Amalina grabbed the key she’d been given and checked the room once more before blowing out the flickering flame of the candle and heading out. From what she’d seen out her window it was going to be a fairly nice day out and she supposed now that she actually had the time to, she’d enjoy the weather for once. While appreciating this, she was also wary to make sure she didn’t overindulge in the niceness of the weather, seeing as it was a luxury she rarely got and she wasn’t planning on having this luxury again. She was half tempted to think that this wasn’t really a serious job and that someone was just trying to get her to let her guard down enough that they could strike when she least expected. And if that was the case…it was too bad for them. Amalina made sure never to let her guard down (even though she knew that was perhaps a bit of an overstatement, because even she needed the opportunity-opening sleep).

Amalina returned the key to the innkeeper, avoiding eye contact with anyone as she left the inn, looking at the building over her shoulder as she left it, memorizing its exterior layout for no reason in particular other than to have more information in her mind, before heading off in her desired direction. The streets were crowded with people, but it wasn’t completely unbearable. She felt somewhat like a young child, fascinated by the world of adults. She’d often felt that way when she first started out as an assassin, having been able to travel all over the place and to see new things. Eventually the awe of it all had worn off and she hadn’t cared where she was or what she was seeing. All that had mattered to her for the longest time was whether or not she killed her intended target. Although she supposed most scholars wouldn’t be so heavily fascinated by the world around them, the one that they lived in, so she decided to play her part more accurately and lifted her head slightly, looking down on everyone around her – a look she’d perfected over the years, seeing as it was the look she carried around more often than not. Amalina stopped every now and again to browse what some merchants were selling, ignoring their vain attempts at trying to convince her it was the highest quality for the best price she’d get anywhere in Moirith. She highly doubted it – if she wanted something like it she knew better places to get it for cheaper; just another perk of having traveled around to many different places. In her mind, Amalina went over what she needed to do. It was simple, really. Get ‘The Red Rose’ by sunset, be offered a reward of sorts, along with her next task. She’d rarely ever been in libraries, however, so finding a book in one was going to be an interesting task. Hopefully everything worked out, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be alone. She’d not seen the last of her courier and his friend, and she didn’t doubt that fact at all. It was going to be an interesting little game she was playing, but that was only to be expected.

As Amalina neared the college, she stopped her meandering thoughts and focused herself on what the task at hand was. There was no need for her to be thinking of anything and everything under the sun when she was to be doing work. Seeing as, not only would this be one of her only times doing a job in a library, being on a college campus was a new one, too. Her ‘friends’ were definitely giving her a lot of firsts, and at the moment she couldn’t say she thanked them for it.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Mon Jul 29, 2013 8:47 pm

(I hope your efforts will be rewarded, because it's good to have you back.)

Demetri shot through the building, up the cobbled, circular stairs, and over to Longridge, saluting to various respectful guards as he went, breaking for no one. Demetri was a respectable guard, even though his status was not as high as most, thus some of the authority figures in the town let the guard's actions slide, especially the rushed, lazy salutes. Even still, Demetri couldn't escape the interaction with one of the higher superiors as he continued on his path. A man in a gleaming suit of half-chain plate armor held a firm, stationary salute in Demetri's direction as the beefy man approached and shouted, "Halt and recount your intentions, knight."

Demetri immediately slammed his left foot into the ground to slow himself, and in three steps, came to a full halt, saluting the man in perfect form as he recounted, "I have been requested for a patrol position in Longridge, sire. I wished to report with urgency." After stating his intent, both of the guardsmen relaxed and conversed for a second, Demetri being reprimanded for his reckless movement through the college campus. After his lecture was over, Demetri offered a firm salute once more and continued on his way, walking now, his steps far more quiet then the thunder previously present throughout the building.

The soldier made it to Longridge in no time, quickly saluting the two guards at the entrance as he walked by, receiving two firm salutes in response. The hulk walked into the near-empty library minutes later, looking around to see two or three scholars already deeply lost in books and research as he made his way towards the librarian's counter, the small, square area in the corner where students would often be lectured and reprimanded severely for attempting to escape with books. As nice as the robe scholars wore was, none of the pockets were nearly large enough even for a small hand-manual, unless they were re-made for such a purpose.

Demetri stopped in front of the desk and stared intently at the man behind the desk, his reading spectacle glowing in the light from the dusty window behind him as he read. The hulk softly cleared his throat, then saluted to the librarian with a quick tap of his foot. Immediately after the tap, the librarian suddenly looked up, almost shocked from his sudden interruption, the shock evident in his complexion. After a moment of examining the well-suited guard, the librarian closed his book on his left index finger and frowned, quietly growling, "You are Demetri, yes?"

Demetri instantly nodded, relaxing from his salute as he continued watching the skinny man observe him, his face emotionless. The librarian's shocked expression faded to approval after a moment, then he reached into one of the shelves behind him and pulled out a scroll, reading it carefully. "You are early, a whole turn early. Excellent. You may begin your patrol immediately. Do not leave this room unless you are given express permission." the librarian said, reading off the scroll in a half-monotone voice. After finishing, Demetri watched the man put the scroll back on the shelf as he responded, "Understood," and began to walk around the library, eyeing the inhabitants carefully as he began his patrol.

As time passed, the sun rose higher, illuminating the musky, smoke-filled and busy city with the marvelous joy it brought, waking the animals and encouraging lazy scholars to get to their studies, back in the swing of things. Neilach made it to the college, looking around to find plenty of activity as the long-robed scholars rushed around, each holding plenty of scrolls and books, some even writing with quills as they walked, nose deep in work. The scholar lowered his nose, contempt gone as he walked among others of his social class, greeting a few with a friendly wave, and being given back mixed, intriguing responses.

Less women walked about campus than did men, for Moirith was still sexist to a degree, but plenty of female guards and scholars passed by the forum of the college entrance, smiling as they walked. Neilach paid heed to all who spoke to him, a social man with little to do, however he did still make way towards the Iron-Buckled Maple doors of the Lordsman's building. Upon reaching the famous building, the scholar pulled open the latch, conversed with a guard for a half-minute on the almanac, the likes of which Neilach had not read, then continued on his way with the knowledge that rain would come the next day.

The wily man walked through the Lordsman's building slowly, turning into every open room he found to explore a little. Occasionally, he would find a man performing an experiment, sometimes alchemy and sometimes animal or human, and in a rarer occurrence, Neilach would even find a professor giving a lecture, the likes of which he would not stay for too long, hoping not to interrupt.

After a certain point in time, Neilach went up the stairs and set off on his way to Longridge, each step a relaxed, care-free step conducted with not a care in the world. Rushed students cursed the man under their breaths as three such students rushed up the stairs behind him, quick to move to a lecture they had forgotten about. The facade-wearing scholar left at the designated floor, recognizing the plaque which had two Rho, Greek letters, symbolizing the small floor with Longridge held within its bounds. The man then walked through the hallway, making his way towards the guards in the distance as he casually waltzed around, soaking in the candle-lit atmosphere with apparent ecstasy.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Mon Jul 29, 2013 9:32 pm

[ It’s good to be back, too. Although I’m starving and reduced to eating these really nasty chocolate-and-orange biscuit things…but I’m so hungry… ]

Amalina took her time walking through the campus, examining the students with some degree of interest as they bustled off here and there. She was shocked nobody ran into each other, one, considering some of them were obviously trying to get somewhere in record time, and two, some people weren’t even looking up as they walked, either reading or writing something, but either way their eyes were not focused on the pathway ahead of them. Though she was confident she wouldn’t have walked into anyone if she were in their shoes, either, so she supposed that’s where they were coming from. Having taken a quick look at the map one more time to be sure of where she was going before she’d entered the campus grounds, Amalina took her time walking there. She examined everything she thought was important, and things that were less important but interesting to her nonetheless. As she made her way to the chosen building she gave somewhat-tentative waves to those she made unfortunate eye contact with but otherwise kept to herself, all too aware of eyes on her every now and again. It took most of her self-control to fight back the instinct of an assassin to silence those who had seen, but she wasn’t being paid to make a scene. She was being paid to find a book by sunset and that’s what she was going to do. Nothing more, nothing less. She didn’t appreciate being noticed, anyways, so making a scene had never really been her ‘thing.’

Amalina let her fingers trail absentmindedly against the walls as she walked down the hallways, looking into rooms closest to her every now and again if she heard talking or something – or someone – caught her eye. Most of it was uninteresting for an assassin and pretty much useless compared to all she had learned and taught herself to be successful at her trade, but some things she came across were more or less interesting and therefore, although it was rare, she stopped for a minute or two to gaze upon whatever was going on in the room at the time. She’d never taken the time to stop and think about all the things that went on inside of a college campus. Whether or not people had cared or what they were learning had never crossed her mind and now that she was gazing upon it she realized that she could understand the attraction to those who loved coming here to learn. If she believed in reincarnation, she would’ve wished she could be reincarnated as a child in a wealthy family and attend a college just so she could learn things she wouldn’t be able to learn now. It wasn’t as if she cared what she did or did not know what was taught in colleges, but it still would be nice to have a head pleasantly stuffed with all the things mortals could learn. It was better than being a beggar on the street with nothing to give and nothing to eat; no knowledge to be passed down to their nonexistent children and grandchildren. After a while of perusing through the hallways and actually taking a moment or two to speak to guards instead of rushing right past them without even giving them a glance, she managed to make her way to the library. Slowly she made her way into the room, stopping for a second in the doorway to admire the simple elegance of the room.

It smelled quite nice, too. Old paper and burning candles always made for a wonderful smell, she supposed. Maybe it was just her. Either way, she wasn’t planning on being here very long. All she wished was to find the book she was looking for and get it to where it was supposed to go to find what was next. Although she’d never admit it out loud, she was quite curious as to where this job was going to lead her. She hadn’t done any killing yet, and for now it seemed that it was going to stay that way. Whether or not she’d end up meeting the royalty of Moirith was still a mystery to her, but she wouldn’t mind a royal assassination, although from what she’d read already it seemed that wasn’t going to happen – and if it did, the chances, she guessed, were still quite unlikely. After a moment of taking in the atmosphere and glancing at the locations of the other people that were in her line of vision, she made her way to the rows and rows of books, looking upon their titles with superficial interest in what the books actually meant. Occasionally, more for looks than actual interest, she’d pull a book down and into her hands, leafing through the pages and reading some of the knowledge the book contained before replacing it where she’d gotten it from. If it hadn’t had to be done by sunset, she most likely would’ve stayed and actually read a few of the books out of curiosity – she tended to judge the book by its title – but she was looking for something very specific.

Running lean fingers down the spines of some of the books as she ‘browsed,’ she made sure no person was too close to her on the chance she found the book. She was already aware of the courier’s guard, and whether or not he’d seen her yet she wasn’t sure of, but she knew if the guard was here the courier must’ve been in there somewhere, as well. Amalina pushed the nonsensical thoughts out of her head as she continued her search, continuing to pull random books off of their shelves every now and again. She had to admit she loved the smell of the old books, even if some of them were a bit more on the musty side and a little bit less desirable. To any scholar, though, she guessed it was a heavenly smell – musty or not. After a while of roaming around, the title she was looking for caught her eye, and she glanced nonchalantly over her shoulder before reaching up and taking the book into her slender hand. Out of curiosity, she flipped open the book and glanced over some of the pages, but her curiosity wasn’t so much in reading it now that she actually had it. She had no idea what the time was nor how long she’d been browsing looking for it, but she supposed the sooner she got out and finished her job, the better. Her only curiosity now was whether or not the guard and his friend had anything to do with it – why they were here she wasn’t entirely sure, but she assumed that she’d find out soon enough.

[ I realize this isn't the ideal way to end a post...but...oh well! xD Aren't I just fantastic ~ ]
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Tue Jul 30, 2013 9:23 am

(Hope you are not as hungry now! Also, that was a fine ending, so do not beat yourself up over it.)

The Red Rose
By Alchrilette

TABLE OF CONTENTS:
1 Inception
11 Pride and Prosperity
39 Everyday Meandering
63 The Essence and The Substance
84 Killings and Tidings
105 Final Thoughts

(Scribbled in at the bottom of the short table, messily scribbled in black ink, is the words, Thine who knows shall spear thou crows.

Neilach made it to the library in no time, talking to the guards for a few minutes about the happenings of the town in a low tone of voice as he did so, trying not to disturb the people in the library. After his drawn-out conversation, Neilach entered the room and began to walk towards the librarian, smiling all the way in an almost condescending way. The librarian looked up after a few minutes of the man standing there, clearing his throat, and he closed his book around his finger, asking, "What is it you require, scholar?"

Neilach murmured back, "I have been searching for a certain book for some time now, and I would much appreciate your help with finding it." as his peripheral vision associated a robed woman far towards the other side of the room to be his associate. The librarian nodded, then got up, marking the page in his book as he did so, asking, "Which book might it be?" Neilach thought for a moment, then said to the librarian, "I cannot remember the name, however I believe it was similarly named, 'Archelight's Success' or else, a Biography."

The librarian nodded, then motioned for Neilach to follow him as he walked through the rows of books, heading towards the far corner of the room, away from Amalina's and The Red Rose's position. At the same time, Demetri walked over to the guards by the door and began a conversation with them both, his face soft as he spoke of ale and fighting men's travels, the two guards being deeply enthralled in conversation within seconds. A scholar dropped his book and closed his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep, and yet another looked over at the man and grinned slyly, moving his eyes back to the book as he continued thinking, whether about the sleeper or the book was unknown.

Neilach followed the librarian as he searched the tall shelves for the book Neilach had asked him about, but after a few seconds of searching, the librarian frowned and began searching the shelves again, mumbling, "I swear we have a book by that name." Neilach grinned as he watched the librarian, for he had used the name, 'Archelight's Success' instead of, 'Berchlight's Successor.' Because of this mistake, the librarian would be occupied searching the nearby shelves for awhile, distracted by Neilach's clever words.

The library was seemingly busy with all the words being spoken, but it was, in fact, as empty as it would get for the assassin. The Red Rose may have only held around a hundred and fifty pages, but its binding was surprisingly thick and the book was more wide than some of the other books, thus there was not a pocket in the world it could fit into. The guards at the entrance may have been busy in conversation, however they were still ordered to ensure books never left the library, and would still check, albeit quicker, each person who passed by during their conversation.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Tue Jul 30, 2013 9:41 pm

[ This is going to be a bit shorter. Gommenasai for that ]

Amalina read over the pages a little bit more before deciding she didn’t have any more time to waste in here reading something she honestly didn’t care about. When something was an object of work it was little more to her. Whether this contained the secret to immortality would mean absolutely nothing to her if it was something she was supposed to retrieve for a job. Her professionalism reached that far, if one could consider that a sane amount for professionalism to stretch. She enjoyed her line of work, as insane as that may seem. These offhanded types of jobs that didn’t really fit an assassin’s “usual” job ‘descriptions’ were all fun and games to her for the most part. If it didn’t involve killing, she’d use the same amount of caution and professionalism, but she wouldn’t care as much if things went awry. She could always find another employer that would pay enough that she would gain back what she ‘lost’ by failing a job. Either way, she’d never once failed a job, and she didn’t intend to start. Closing the book with a small thud she looked over its size. It didn’t have much in the content department, so why it had to be the size ‘unworthy’ of a pocket she didn’t fully comprehend. Stupid author…perhaps if they’d decided on a more travel-friendly size it would be a more popular book – but in all honesty, who was she to judge what made a book popular and what didn’t? Her only chore now was figuring a way to hide it and get it past the guards without them noticing. She had noticed from the corner of her eye that the yet-to-be-named guard had gone to make conversation with the ones that had been guarding the doorway, but that wouldn’t stop them from doing their jobs, and she knew that for a fact. She’d have hidden it in the outfit she still had donned underneath her scholar’s robes, but even then the book wasn’t going to fit comfortably without creating a suspicious-looking bulge near her hip. Not to mention that wouldn’t be very comfortable for her, either. With a sigh, she debated lying about it. Bringing it to a professor or something – however, one problem with that was that she knew no names of professors and it wouldn’t make much sense, in her mind at least, why a professor would ask a student to go retrieve a book that their own two very capable legs could’ve gone and gotten themselves. So, that was out. If she could get the book to stay tucked safely away in the sleeve that would possibly work. She could always attach it to the gauntlets she had that hid her daggers from the naked eye, but where she would put the extra dagger she wasn’t quite sure. However, it was the safest bet, considering those gauntlets were created to hide things. Attaching it to the gauntlet would be a different matter, however, considering they were also created to conceal daggers, not books. But, she was an assassin – used to having to think up strategies in small periods of time.

Looking around her to make sure she wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention, she moved further down the row of books and gently placed the book on top of some other ones as nimble fingers worked on the gauntlet, the dagger sliding loose and falling, only to be caught between her fingers before rolling up her scholar robe’s sleeve and using her dagger to snap off a small piece of leather that helped keep the dagger secure. With another small snap of another piece of the leather, she nodded contentedly at the work and the space she’d provided on the gauntlet to have been adjusted to carrying a book instead of a dagger. Her only disapproval towards her work was that it would never hold that dagger again. If she could get her hands on some new gauntlets after this, everything would be fine. However, she knew she most likely wouldn’t be able to procure another set of these gauntlets until she’d gathered the entire sum of money from this job as a whole. Unfortunate. Putting the dagger down beside the book, her lean fingers picked up the book and hastily secured it where her dagger had previously been, rolling the sleeve back down and picking up the dagger. Now her only problem was dealing with this. Putting it back down she removed the twine she’d used to keep her hair out of her face and rolled up her opposite sleeve, using her free hand and teeth to tie the dagger on the underside of the other, still fully functional leather gauntlet before rolling down the sleeve once more. She took a look at her surroundings once more before shaking her arms lightly. When nothing felt and she hadn’t been aware of anything feeling like it was about to fall, she gave a satisfied nod and ran her fingers through her chocolaty hair before straightening and gaining her composure, making her way towards the guards that were making idle chatter together.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Tue Jul 30, 2013 10:25 pm

(It's not that short, so mondainai. Also, we might have had different images of The Red Rose, but by 'surprisingly thick' and 'more wide than some of the other books' I meant that it was about 2"x10"x12". Now, I do not know how a book would fit into an assassins' gauntlets' dagger strap, to be honest, I cannot even picture what happened, but it could work...)

Neilach being otherwise preoccupied softly speaking to the librarian as he searched, confused as to the location of the book which he was sure existed, there was no one in the library who had nothing to there except for Amalina. The guards at the entrance did not notice the woman as she approached, being entirely consumed on a debate between ale from Mockingham Inn and the ale of Stormbrew'd Haunt, both of which were in the Western wing of town along the border of the Southern wing.

Demetri knew that the assassin was approaching, having paid more attention to sounds in the room than the sounds of the conversation he was having, thus he was the first to stop with the conversation, saying, "It seems you two have work at last," as he walked back into the library, making his way towards the back end of the room. As he passed by the sleeping scholar, he snapped his fingers in the boy's ear, causing him to jump in his chair from shock. Demetri and the other conscious student chuckled after this, then continued working as the tired scholar got up to find another book. The guards stood at attention as the woman scholar approached, standing in her way as they briefly said, "You do not have any books from the library in your possession, correct?"

The librarian, being unable to find the book for three full minutes, frowned, thinking hard. "Books never leave this room, and none of the other students walked over here yet," the librarian murmured, his eyes still searching the shelves. Neilach saw the assassin walk towards the door, done with her planning, and then shew a look of revelation as he said, "Ay, I got the name of the book wrong! It was Berchlight's Success, not Archelight!" The librarian motioned for Neilach to calm down and nodded, himself disappointed at having been fooled by the scholar.

The third student in the room got up from his chair, having finished his book already, and made his way back to the bookshelves to deposit his book back into the ranks of the library. After placing his book on the shelf, noticing the librarian lead Neilach nearby, he started to make his way over to the entrance, smiling happily at having finally finished his book. The sleepy scholar looked at the other scholar as he passed by, then sighed and continued reading, fighting the war against sleep as he tried yet still to focus on his work.

Demetri was lazily patrolling as the other scholar got up, and as he passed the shelf where The Red Rose had been, he grinned, happy that the assassin had found a way to move it. He himself had made a few plans, but he was not much of a strategist or a schemer, thus he doubted his plans would run smoothly. Neilach thanked the librarian for finding his book, letting the man walk back over to the counter as he, seemingly eagerly, opened the musky book to its table of contents, secretly not the least bit interested in the biography.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Tue Oct 29, 2013 5:56 pm

[ Mmm, I suppose it's another form of creative license, or so to speak. What I saw in my head while I was writing it made perfect sense, so I suppose it's however the reader chooses to take the writing to begin with. Not much else to do about it, especially with measurements. They're partial to whomever is writing and their imagination unless the actual measurements are stated in the reply. So sorry if it didn't fit your plans. And daaaaaang. It's been three months almost o-o Sorry for the super long wait! ]

As Amalina passed by the guards, she allowed herself the luxury of giving one of the guards a look she liked to believe only assassins were capable of. She, if she hadn't known better, would've been trying to provoke, because there was nothing wrong with a little bit of bloodshed every now and again, now was there? However, she did know better and anything more than a fleeting glance would probably arouse suspicion, and that was the easiest route to failing a mission and not collecting her pay. She'd already been through enough things that she wouldn't normally do - sneaking books out of a library to be one of them - to back down now. Not that she ever backed down from a job in the first place. Amalina left the library after giving a curt shake of her head to signify she did, indeed, not have any books that were not meant to be taken away from the oh-so-precious library. Perhaps Amalina gave too little respect to libraries, but she had never been much for reading, seeing as her job rarely called for her to read anything other than instructions. She preferred to keep things that way, as well. Reading was a waste of time when you could be out doing something productive instead...but then again, her idea of productive was vastly different from the majority of people.

Amalina made her way from the library, down the hallways once more, stopping to peer into empty classrooms out of sheer curiosity. She wasn't against taking things from the campus, and although she hadn't been expecting to find anything of use to her, she came up empty-handed by the time the long hallway had ended and she found herself standing outside once more. The weather was pleasant, not that it affected her whether it rained or shined, but she supposed most might see it as a good thing, and she took in a deep breath of the crisp air before setting forth towards the gates to leave the campus grounds and head off to her next destination, her only thought now being curiosity on how long this mission would take and when she could get a new gauntlet.


[ I don't know if it was stated already but the last time I remember going over the letter given to Amalina I don't remember it saying where she was to take the book and to be completely honest I'm too lazy to go back and look now. Care to refresh my memory? xD ]
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Tue Oct 29, 2013 6:50 pm

(OOC:( I have quite a few things to say, so I put them in a spoiler. Yay! I'm learning!
Spoiler:
(You are correct: she was not instructed on where to go, however she was told in a previous letter that she would be paid 40 gold for the book. Amalina won't know this(so she'll have to ask around or something) but there are only three book stores in the town: The college store, The Speared Crow, and a small stand in the northern wing of town. If you need a refresher on the layout of the town, here:
Spoiler:

Moirith is a oddly-shaped hexagon with five sections outlined: An Eastern wing, a Northern wing, a Western wing, a central castle surrounded by a large, thick wall, and the Southern entrance to Moirith with its fairly large gate. Through the entire town is a main path which goes through the middle, branching off in the Northern wing slightly and re-aligning in the Western ring until it loops back to the end of the Eastern wing again. Each separation in the buildings has a branching path, and each separation between the smaller buildings is an alleyway.
Also, about measurements. I think this role play would start to suck if I went into detail pointing out every last detail in order to avoid confusion. It is difficult to point out only the important facts in an improvisational setting, however I will try. If you get confused, use the Ctrl + F feature on your computer and search back through the pages of the role play to find an answer. It is better to refer back, because if you don't, I'm just going to be dragging you through this. It's a mystery, so all the info I give is necessary to some extent.

Lastly, stop apologizing. You should not feel sorry that your writing is not exactly what I expect, because if it were, I would be bored to all h- err, kell. If you ever need me to point out or explain information, send me a message.)
 
Also, I intended for the guards to actually search Amalina, because it is ridiculously anti-climatic for her to just walk out. Here, I quote:
Spoiler:

My previous response:
...The guards stood at attention as the woman scholar approached, standing in her way as they briefly said, "You do not have any books from the library in your possession, correct?"...

Your response:
...Amalina left the library after giving a curt shake of her head to signify she did, indeed, not have any books that were not meant to be taken away from the oh-so-precious library.
So, I guess I can roll with it, but I'll need time to try and piece together a logical response. If you see fit, you can edit your response.))
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Tue Oct 29, 2013 7:05 pm

Ah, alright. My apologies. I haven't read it in three months, so I probably should've actually gone through and actually ready it completely instead of just skimming it. I'm replying to another roleplay at the moment, but when I'm done with that I'll go back and rewrite the thingie-ma-bob. But it might be a bit shorter than the one I sent. My bad.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Greed on Tue Oct 29, 2013 7:27 pm

[ Screw editing the reply. xD I'm just going to write up something entirely new. So it might be a bit shorter. My muse has gone downhill. I wrote that last one without much regard to anything, simply because I wanted to write and I kind of owed you a reply after three months xD sorry about that. Let's try this again. ]

Amalina hated security. Always had. It'd never been too much of a problem for her considering she'd always managed to get the job done. Sometimes, however, the guards just tended to make it more bloodier than it would've originally been, but hey. She had no problem with a little more bloodshed than she was being paid for. She wasn't paid to care, she was paid to make sure the job was done. And right now, she wasn't being paid to care, either. Paid to be careful, perhaps, but not to care. When she thought about it, it might do her some good to put some more care into her work on this one, seeing as so far she had not been instructed on needing to kill anyone. It wasn't the type of care she'd usually have to use on a regular mission she was sent on. This was a bit more elaborate in terms of sneaking around. And maybe that didn't make any sense at all, but at least, in her mind, it did. She came to a halt before the guards, having no other desire than to push past them, send them a quick signal of her disregard for them, and head off. However, that was not her style, neither was it an intelligent thing to do.

Amalina held out her hands in a somewhat mocking gesture, "Correct," she replied in a hushed tone, shooting a glance over her shoulder at her 'companions,' looking at their locations once before turning her attention fully back to the guards. She was beginning to wish she'd put the dagger in her boot instead of attaching it with twine to the underside of her gauntlet. That probably would've worked better, and had less of a chance of it falling or being discovered. She believed she could make a somewhat convincing argument if it was found...but with the security around here she didn't know how well they would receive the excuse. And it was only if the dagger was found, so she had a hope for it not being found. That and the hiding of the book. She supposed they were going to make her prove she had no books on her in one way or another, otherwise they would've gotten out of her way already. She wasn't all to excited about that, but what had to be done had to be done, and they were simply doing their jobs, as she was doing hers.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

Post by Amalgamator on Tue Oct 29, 2013 8:43 pm

(OOC:(Screw it indeed. *holds up a screw* It seems that your "muse" shrivels up and dies whenever you respond to this role play with me. Oh, and sorry for telling you to stop saying sorry, I didn't realize you liked saying it so much. *sarcasm* One more thing: I just realized that I am pretty much controlling everyone in the city. If you are fine with this, great, but feel free to introduce some random extra character if you so desire.))

The two guards at the entrance watched the scholar-like girl approach, as well as the other scholar a few feet back. The girl responded with a curt, "Correct," and paused a few feet in front of the two guards. A moment of pause followed as silence filled the room. One of the guards then spoke, "We'll give you a choice: disrobe or pat-down," and gestured to her. He then pointed over at the other scholar, who had stopped a few feet behind Amalina, and said, "You can just disrobe." The other guard then smirked wryly and added, "Just the robe though. We don't need to see anything else." At this point, both guards chuckled a little and turned their attention back to the girl scholar for her response.

As the scholar behind Amalina effortlessly pulled up his robe, Neilach cleared his throat. The courier then took his open book and walked away from the librarian, over to Demetri. The hulk of a guard looked over as he heard the courier's footsteps and rose an eyebrow. Neilach closed his eyes and cracked his neck from side to side, emphasizing the side closer to the entrance where Amalina was. Neilach then continued walking past Demetri and sat on one of the chairs near the library shelves. The sleepy scholar, on the other hand, lulled into the realm of dreams once more, his head falling forward onto his book. The other scholar looked up, but quickly looked back down with a sly grin on his face.

Demetri, noting the signal Neilach gave, walked over to the librarian and said, "Do you smell that?" The guard then gestured towards the librarian as he sniffed a few more times, pointing his head in the direction of a smell. The librarian responded with a curt, "No, I don't," and leafed through a book of some sort at his desk. Demitri then stopped sniffling, and Neilach looked up from his book, eyes searching the guard one moment, then darting over to the guards at the entrance the next. The other scholar had his robe neatly folded over his arm, his spiffy cotton college outfit presenting his membership to the school. He then waited for the guards to shift their attention over to him.
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Re: Silva's Courier (PG-13) {Greed}

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