Symphony of Swords: Melody and Magic

[Jordan Murphy]

On the continent of Altin there is unrest and talk of a strange force at work permeating from somewhere in the world. Tales of unusual events unfolding across the land have made their way to nearly every city. Unnatural weather, livestock killed in manner unlike that any beast is capable, crops wilting and turning poisonous, thousands of fish floating in the lakes and rivers that even the scavenging animals are skeptical to feed upon. These are only some of the peculiar events transpiring in these times. Many claim its the gods punishing the land for the cruelty and sadistic nature of man. Some speculation has it being a powerful dark wizard. Others say its a force unlike any capable by magic or anything seen until this time. The only thing certain is that soon food with be scarce and hunger leads to desperation. A desperate person is a dangerous person. Something must be done. Can this land be saved?

]Name:


Age:


Gender:


Race:


Appearance:


-Eye Color:


-Hair Color:


-Hair Style:


-Height:


-Weight:


-Other Features:


-Clothes:


Occupation:


Personality:


History/Background:  
Name: Rivv


Age: 25


Gender: Male


Race: Human


Appearance:


-Eye Color: Blue


-Hair Color: Brown


-Hair Style: long and unkempt


-Height: 6'1


-Weight: 175


-Other Features: toned and slender.


-Clothes: Light leather armor.


Occupation: Bard/Rogue


Personality: A loner, skeptic. Unless there is a tavern close by. Then full of song.


History/Background: Abandoned at a young age Rivv was forced to learn the harshness of life before having a chance to be carefree kid. He soon found his love of music and scrounged up money for a lute. He played at local taverns for small coin until he caught the eye of a female rogue named Triksy. She taught him the way of stealth and dagger. They were together many years before one night she was caught trying to steal from a wealthy magistrate and beheaded. Rivv never recovered. He has since lived the life of a loner minstrel rogue and sang tells of woe and sorrow to any like minded soul willing to listen.

 

[Chi Chi]

Name: Rosa Jahangir


Age: 22


Gender: Female


Race: Human


Appearance:


-Eye Color: Green with golden flecks


-Hair Color: Dirty Blonde


-Hair Style: Long, but braided with a spike strip in it


-Height: 5’11’’


-Weight: 140


-Other Features: Unseen, she has many flat blades strapped to her body.


-Clothes: Simplistic, black, and slightly looser than the regular female style. Her boots are almost knee-high, flat-soled, soft, and made of the same black leather as her gloves.


Occupation: Assassin; will also do some spy work


Personality: Rosa is haughty and aloof. She is used to working alone, and avoids getting attached in case she is talking to her next victim. Her humour is dry and sarcastic, and her smile is rare.


History/Background: Rosa grew up in a small mountain village with her Papa and 6 other siblings (5 brothers and a sister). Her mother had disappeared when she was 5 and Rosa doesn’t remember much about her, other than the songs she used to sing. Life was hard and everyone had to pitch in. At a young age, Rosa became a skilled bow huntress and a master fisher. Her brothers’ relentless bullying aided in honing her hand-to-hand combat, and her father even taught her some swordplay. When she was 15, Rosa’s village was raided and burnt to the ground. After escaping, she was only able to locate one of her older brothers, and together they made their way to the capital city, Bleakburn. Her brother, Killian, found an apprenticeship with one of the blacksmiths. Rosa was offered a position as the blacksmith’s maid, but she refused, bent instead on revenge. She spent many weeks sleeping in the alleys and seeking out the black market before locating those trained as assassins. It took even longer to gain any of their trust, but eventually she told her story and desire for revenge to the assassin Fengir, and he took her in and trained her. 
Rosa wiped the crimson blood off her blade and looked at the crumpled body before her with disgust. “Someone paid a pretty price to have you killed today,” she informed the corpse, green eyes glaring. “I see why. You’ve been selling children into slavery. If I had known that a little earlier, your death would have been slower.” With a shrug, Rosa moved away from the dead slaver.


What to do now? Her job was complete and her salary was collected, but Rosa couldn’t just leave. Who knew if the man had a partner? It would be cruel to save the children from one terrible fate, only to deliver them to the next.


Rosa gave a heavy sigh and opened up her coin purse. She counted her gold, sighed again, looked at the cadaver, sighed once more, and pulled a small copper coin out. Then she paused, put the copper back, and pulled out a silver coin. She retrieved out a cloth from her pocket and wrapped it around her face to hide her features. Rosa walked over to the slaver, pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and proceeded to the iron door at the back of the room. The second key she tried clicked into the lock perfectly and Rosa swung the door open to reveal two children.


The urchins were cowered against the far wall, fear and confusion on their face. Their clothes were ragged and they had amassed such a layer of grime that it was impossible to tell what colour their hair or skin was. It was a sight beyond pitiful.


Rosa went to move towards them and they immediately hid their faces. She stopped, pulled out the silver coined and pleaded, “I’m not here to hurt you. Please listen to me.” Two pairs of eyes lifted up and grew wide with excitement at the silver coin. She had their attention. “The man who captured you is dead. You’re free! But I need you to do something for me.” The children narrowed their eyes in suspicion. Rosa slowly inched forward. “I will give you this silver if you go to the guards and tell them what’s going on here. Slavery is illegal, and a man is dead. I don’t know how many other children he has captured. You two would be heroes. And make a little coin,” she added slyly.


The two kids put their heads together and began to whisper furiously. They kept glancing back to Rosa and the silver coin. Rosa was glad she had decided on the silver instead of copper. It was definitely quite the incentive. After a couple minutes the larger, and Rosa assumed older, child finally spoke. “We might be able to help you, lady. That man was mean and you done gone and saved us. But we don’t want to get tangled with them guards. They beat us too, on the street.”


Rosa growled, “You get the coin if you tell the guards and save the other children. And I’m an assassin, so you better bet your asses I’ll know if you don’t. Or maybe I should give the coin to someone else with the courage to do it?”


Panic set in on their faces. “Sorry ma’am! Not trying to offend, we do swear! We’ll take that there coin and tell them guards, you can be counting on us!” They scurried forward desperately.


Rosa rolled her eyes and passed them the coin. “Remember you two; I’ll be watching.”


Finally, with a clear conscience, Rosa was finished. She slid a window open, dropped to the ground below and removed her mask. She sauntered down the street, looking like any other woman on an evening stroll, excepting her slightly unfashionable clothes. It was time for a goddamn drink. She turned herself towards the nearest tavern.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

Rivv awoke the same as any other day. Alone in a cheap inn, piecing together the day before. But unbeknownst to him, this day would be different. He staggered out of his room ,weary and droopy eyed, through the lobby and into the harsh light of morning. The streets of Bleakburn were alive and bustling. As much as you would expect from the capital city. Rivv takes in the crowd for a moment before deciding his next course of action. This thought is interrupted by the clashing of steel and gasps of nearby civilians as two men engage in combat. Rivv, not one to miss a good fight, walks toward the scrum. Two men, both muscled and clearly trained in combat, match each other blow for blow. They continue to a seeming stalemate before Rivv blurts out tactlessly, "Why are you fighting?" to no response.


Before long the two men, now exhausted, stand in front of one another breathing heavily, waiting for the other to make the next move. Rivv asks again, "Why are you fighting?" the taller of the two blurts out, "This man owes a debt!". The other, a slightly shorter, younger man, turns his head and immediately responds, " My debt has been paid! I beg of you!". As soon as his head is turned the taller man lunges his sword forward. The blow is precise, piercing his targets neck with trained accuracy. Blood gushes from the younger mans neck as the sword still penetrates him. He is dead in a matter of seconds. "You are a coward.", Rivv says calmly, disappointed by how this fight ended. He glares at the man in front of him. "A coward murderer to be precise.", stretching and twisting the tension out of his neck. The tall man, still full of rage, responds, "You'll taste his blood as my sword slides through your throat as well!". "A yellow coward. I can see the color drip off of you." Rivv taunts, as calm as a statue. In a fit of rage the tall man rushes forward, with sword overhead, towards Rivv, he swings. In one swift motion Rivv ducks, pulls a dagger, and rakes at the inner thigh of his aggressor. The cut is deep and clean. The tall man falls to his side holding his thigh, "What have you done?!" he shrieks. "Your femoral artery.", Rivv explains..."What?!" , the tall man interrupts. "I severed it." Rivv adds, "You'll bleed out soon.". "But?!?!", the tall man pleads. "I need a drink." , Rivv mumbles with eyes on the nearest tavern. He heads towards it.

 

[Chi Chi]

The Trotting Mare was a cozy tavern, filled with the scents of cloves and ale. The tables were nearly all full, yet it maintained the feeling of not being overcrowded. People chatted merrily, bar maidens danced between tables to deliver drinks, and a few people gambled on dice in the back.


Rosa nestled herself at a table off to the side and made a motion towards the serving girls. One of them made her way over almost immediately, parting her pretty red lips in a smile. “Yes, my lady? What will it be for you today?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.


“A mug of your strongest ale and a meat pie won’t you,” Rosa responded handing over some coin for payment. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was before. Killing was hungry work. She was grateful that it was work that could afford to pay for that hunger. It was also work that had managed to feed her hunger for revenge over the past six years.


Rosa lost herself in memory. It had taken her three years, but she had finally tracked down the bandits who had burnt down her village and killed her family. She followed them day and night, killing them off one by one until only the leader remained. He was a complete wreck by then, alone and afraid, but nowhere to go since he also had a bounty on his head. Rosa came in the night and dragged him from his tent. She told him stories of her strong Papa, her reckless brothers and her darling sister. Then she told him of the death and fire his group of bandits had brought upon her happy family. When that was complete, Rosa tied the leader to a pyre of wood. She burned him alive that night, and shed many tears for her lost family.


The serving girl placed a large frothy mug of ale and a steaming meat pie before Rosa, jostling her out of her memories. Before the girl could leave, Rosa grabbed her arm and pulled out three extra coppers. “For a moment of your time,” she said, gesturing to the seat across from her. The busty, red-lipped girl looked around nervously for a second before taking a seat.


“If it pleases you, my lady, we have girls upstairs for your pleasure. I am only here to serve the food and ale. I wouldn’t know much else,” the bar maiden looked down at her hands sheepishly.


It took Rosa a moment to figure out what the silly girl was talking about. When the knowledge hit her, Rosa’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Oh, to the gods, no! No, that’s not what I meant at all! I, uh, I just wanted to see if you had any gossip or rumours you could share with me. That coin is for information! No other, uh, favours required!”


With a sigh of relief, the girl looked up. “Forgive me! I’ve just gotten the request before. I do indeed have some news to share with you. Two men were killed. One was killed in a duel.” This news was common to Rosa; men fought every day. “And one was killed by a random man, who walked into the duel. He left the second man to bleed to death on the walkway. Useless rouge if you ask me.” Well, that was definitely a little more exciting. The girl carried on with her gossip, “And two street urchins revealed a giant underground child slavery port! The man who was said to be the lead slaver, Ulmer, used to come in here to gamble at dice sometimes! He’s dead now, and his henchmen are in cuffs. The guards have all the children at the courthouse, waiting for parents to pick them up. The young homeless ones will probably be sent to an orphanage, but who knows about the older ones. Quite the scandal, quite the scandal.”


Well, that solved that issue. The children had turned the information over to the guards. Rosa nodded her head in thanks and slid the coppers over to the girl. Then she took a gulp of her ale and dug into the hearty pie.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

As distress and commotion fills the air over the two fallen men in the street, Rivv slowly walks to The Trotting Mare tavern. A place he knows all too well. The pleading cries for help of the unnamed , defenselessly bleeding man gradually fade from earshot.


Rivv soon reaches the entrance to the tavern. His worn leather boots squeak with each step up the stairs to the tavern doors. He steps inside, eyes squinting to adjust to the darker , candlelit atmosphere of the tavern. Rivv scans the room for an empty seat. His eyes rest upon a single unoccupied seat at the table of a pale, meek man.


"Durgan" Rivv muttered under his breath. He was familiar with Durgan...and his addictions. Durgan was a peddler at worst and swindler at best. Selling supposed invaluable trinkets to any poor sap willing to buy them. They were all worthless of course. Rivv makes his way to Durgan's table and begins to sit down. "Durgan. Buy me an ale." Rivv says quickly even before being fully seated. Durgan jolts up, caught off guard by his new company, "ohh! ahh. Rivv. Didn't see you there. You know i can't aff....". Rivv cuts him off abruptly, " Your swindling ways not paying off as well as before Durgan?". "Well ahh. You know uhh. I sell trinkets of umm varying value and..." Durgan trails off as Rivv gives him a cold, dead stare.


Durgan motions to the nearest barmaid, "an ale for my friend here." his tone is solemn and defeated. The barmaid waves in acknowledgment and soon has a tall, foamy ale in hand as she makes her way towards the table. Rivv grabs the ale from the girls hand and tilts his head back as he gulps it down in seconds. The barmaid looks on in astonishment as Rivv, in one movement, belches and says "keep them coming". Durgan nods his head towards the girl and she walks back behind the bar.


A few hours of drinks and chatter in the tavern goes by. "So Durgan. What are the issues of today?" Rivv facetiously asks with a smirk on his face, clearly feeling the numerous ales. "Oh just the usual. Politicians politicing. Assassins assassinating". "Anything specific worth mentioning?" Rivv inquires, "Well there was talk of a slavery racket being discovered. They say Ulmer was running it. He's dead." Durgan and Rivv both knew of Ulmer well. He frequented The Trotting Mare often. A vile, loud, obnoxious man only interested in whores, gambling and ale. "His time was coming", Rivv smirks at the thought of the world being rid of such a worthless person.


Rivv and Durgan continue to converse and drink into the evening. Soon an oddly familiar face catches Rivv's eye. "Its...no it can't be," He hesitates. "It can't be her," Rivv shakes the thought out of his head and motions for another ale. Durgan notices this and quietly asks the barmaid, "Who is that woman in the corner?" The barmaid shrugs, " First time I've seen her in here hon. Couldn't tell you". Nothing more is said and it remains silent at the table for a while.


Night creeps upon The Trotting Mare with its occupants carefree and joyfull, besides the vexed few with troubled minds unable to break free from the burdens of the day.

 

[Chi Chi]

The crescent moon had risen high and the stars were sparkling bright in the clear sky by the time Rosa had drained her final ale. She hadn’t planned on staying after the first one, but she was in a very good mood after her successful job today. It wasn’t very often that Rosa could take legitimate joy in one of her killings. Often times she was simply sent in to settle a score, or be the lethal messenger of someone’s spurned spouse or lover. Today, however, she had done some good in the world.


She waved over her new informant, the pretty bar maiden, Talia. The young girl smiled and came over immediately. “Another ale for you, Miss Rosa? I reckon that’s about five now,” Talia cautioned.


Five? Already? “Uh, maybe I’ll be done here for the night. Here’s something a little extra for watching out for me tonight,” Rosa slurred, flipping a coin at Talia, though she wasn’t exactly sure if it was copper, silver, or gold. It didn’t really matter. Informants were invaluable either way. They could mean the difference between life and death during some jobs.


Rosa stood up and suddenly felt the effects of the ale. It had definitely been their strongest ale, she was sure of that much. Hopefully the cool night air would clear her head some. Unsurely, she made her way to the tavern exit and into the night.


The air was crisp and the night was beautiful. It was perfect outside. Rosa took a deep breath of midnight air and began the trek home. She wasn’t far from the tavern when she took a turn down an alleyway. The faster she could get home the better. Rosa was exhausted.


She was halfway through the alley when a man slid out of the shadows and blocked off her path. “Where you going, sweetheart? Come play with me over here,” the man sneered at Rosa. She turned around quickly to run away, but another man had snuck up behind her. As she tried to slip past the second man, he grabbed at her braid. It would have worked if there hadn’t been a spike woven into it. The man yelped with pain and withdrew his hand.


Yes! It worked! Rosa scrambled for the end of the alley, only to be smacked down by the first assailant. She unhooked her hidden wrist blade, and was about to retaliate, when the man stepped down on her hand hard. Rosa screamed in pain. She was way too drunk for this. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was stupid to let her guard down this way. Now it might cost her the most precious thing she owned – her life.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

It was nearing midnight in The Trotting Mare tavern. The atmosphere was changing from boisterous and joyful to hushed and pensive. The smiling faces of before turned emotionless as they stared at the glasses in front of them reflecting upon the worries of the day. Those whom remained; gamblers, miscreants and thieves, conspired quietly amongst themselves and spoke of shady dealings past and future.


Rivv and Durgan still sat at a table near the corner of the tavern. "You're boring Durgan", Rivv said as his eyes scanned around the tavern. Durgan looked up, somewhat annoyed, "Why do you give me so much shit Rivv?" "Because you deserve it" Rivv responded quickly as though he had known exactly what Durgan would say. Durgan almost smiled at Rivv's candidness but held back. Durgan knew what he was. He couldn't deny it.


Rivv's head turned to the door as the unmistakable clinking and tinging of platemail grew louder. Two guardsmen stood in the doorway of the tavern. The captain of the guard, a formidable man in his late forties, with a nearly shaved head and hardened face was the first through the door. Another man entered the tavern right behind the captain. He was much larger in stature but quite young, with a fresh face and unsure look that betrayed his intimidating frame. The tavern owner, a short, husky fellow by the name of Ricbert, took notice of the two men and greeted them at the door.


"It had to happen eventually." Rivv thought to himself as he started scheming ways to leave before the right questions were asked and fingers started to point. Killing a man on the street in broad daylight with more witnesses than he could count wouldn't just blow over unnoticed. He wondered why he even did it. No matter now. It was time to go.


With his head slightly turned away, Rivv leaned in towards Durgan and discreetly said, "Durgan. I'm going to need a gold piece". "What?!" "Have you gone mad?!" Durgan exclaimed, shocked by this request. "A few silvers then. Need I remind you of a particular day in the square not so long ago?" Durgan's expression lightened. He remembered that day well. An unsatisfied customer with a shortsword pressed to his throat flashed in his mind. Durgan opened a pouch on his waste and pulled out 3 silvers. He slid them under his hand across the table to Rivv.


Silver in hand Rivv looked around for a barmaid. He soon spotted Talia near the middle of the room and motioned her over. "Another ale Rivv?" she asked with a smile. "Not this time Talia. I must ask a favor of you. There's coin in it for your trouble." Rivv's expression was serious and calm. Talia gave a slightly concerned look and asked "what would this favor require?" "I need you to take me by the hand and lead me up the staircase as though you are bedding me." Rivv explained.


The young bar maid began to turn red and said "You know I don't do that Rivv , I just serve the drinks." Rivv looked the girl in the eyes with a slight smile and clarified, " It's nothing like that. It's all for show. Trust me." Talia smiled back and softly repeated him, "Just for show". She grabbed his hand and began playfully walking him towards the staircase with a little extra sway in her hips than normal. Either Talia was a great actor or she actually enjoyed this.


Back at the entrance of the tavern Ricbert greeted the two guardsmen, "Captain Trenton! What brings you to my humble establishment this time of night?" "Hello Ricbert." the captain said dryly. He continued, "We are looking for a man here accused of murder". It wasn't unfamiliar for Ricbert to have guardsmen inquire of crimes given the sort of scene his normally cheerful tavern took on at night. "Do you have a description?",Ricbert asked. The captain sighed at the question and replied, "Tall. Slender build. Brown hair. Quick with a dagger by the look of it."


Ricbert knew exactly of the man in question. He frequented the tavern often. In fact he knew he was there right now. But Ricbert hadn't built his tavern to where it was by being a snitch. He knew exactly the class of person his establishment attracted late into the night and he embraced it. "I can't say I have seen a man of that description today, Captain." Ricbert said convincingly. "Feel free to look around as you wish", he added. The captain nodded and began to look around the room.

 

[Chi Chi]

The burly man laughed at Rosa’s pain, clearly enjoying this new cat and mouse game. “Sorry ‘bout that. Don’t know my own strength,” the man chortled again, an ugly gurgling sound. He released Rosa’s hand from under his foot and picked up her knife. “This isn’t the kind of thing a polite lady carries. Let me take it off your hand.”


Rosa gritted her teeth in pain and frustration as her black-haired attacker backed up, still blocking her path to freedom. The second assailant behind her seemed to have recovered from her bladed braid, but he was a lot more wary. He didn’t seem to be enjoying her assault as much as the black-haired man did.


“Qiir, grab the stupid bitch,” the first man commanded, clearly the leader. Rosa blundered to her feet immediately, adrenaline finally starting to eat away at the fuzzy drunkenness of her mind. There was no way she was going down without a fight. Now that Rosa was thinking more clearly, she began to formulate a plan. Should she take out the leader and hope Qiir would run away? Or perhaps she should knock out the weakest link and run.


Slowly, she turned away from the advancing Qiir and towards the lead attacker. She let a small whimper escape her lips as she pleaded, “Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.” The pathetic show caused the coal-haired man to laugh, harder and harder. He thrived on her desperation.


While he laughed, his associate paused, looking for instruction. In that moment of hesitation, Rosa saw her opportunity. Quickly, before either of the men could react, Rosa crouched down, grabbed a knife from each of the slits in her boots, and somersaulted towards Qiir. As she reached him and came out of her roll, Rosa dragged her daggers across the back of his knees, dropping the man to the ground. With her new height advantage she drove the double blades deep into his chest, twice, three times, and then turned her attention to the leader.


The gigantic man wasted no time mourning the loss of his friend. He was already charging Rosa, with no fear of her killing blades. Rosa backed up, preparing to make her escape, and tripped over Qiir’s lifeless body. The man was on her in an instant, crushing the knives out of her hands, and the air from her lungs. It was to be a close-combat fight to the death.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

With each guardsmen headed to opposite ends of the room, examining every person they approached, Talia and Rivv reached the bottom of the staircase at the northern end of tavern, near the bar. The younger guardsman, still methodically inspecting each patron he came upon, noticed movement in the corner of his eye. He glanced towards the stairs. The hair on Rivv's neck stood as he sensed he was being watched. "Hurry", Rivv said in an urgent tone. Talia's pace quickened and soon they were on the second floor of the tavern.


The young guardsman's eyes followed their every step. He found something oddly peculiar of the pair traversing the staircase and started walking in that direction. "Where you going Aelik?" Captain Trenton yelled across the room. "Checking the upper rooms , Sir." Aelik continued towards the stairs."Carry on," the captain added with a nod.


Once on the second floor of the tavern Rivv and Talia headed for the nearest vacant room. At the end of the hall on the left they found one facing the back streets behind the tavern. They went inside and locked the door. Rivv grabbed Talia's hand "for your trouble." He placed the three silvers into it and then closed her hand around them.


"It was no trouble. But what is this all about?" Talia asked with worry in her voice. Just as she finished her question there was a knock at the door followed by a loud voice.


"I am Aelik Orlebar of the city guard. Open this door immediately!"


Rivv turned to Talia and whispered, "I have to go. Tell him you are cleaning the room."


"He will never believe me! I'm sure he watched us come up together!" Talia was visibly shaken by the situation. Rivv knew she was right. He regretted getting her involved in this.


"Then I hope you can climb," Rivv said bluntly. He had grown impatient despite the guilt he felt.


Rivv headed to the window, opened it, and looked down. Twenty-five feet separated him and Talia from the concealment of night below. Rivv was an experienced climber but he wasn't sure if Talia would be up to it.


"Follow my lead," Rivv exited the window and put a foot on the narrow ledge underneath him. He then dropped down and caught the ledge with his hands letting his feet rest on the base of an awning of the first floor windows. It was just a short jump to the ground from there.


"My patience grows thin!" Aelik yells from behind the door. "I will enter by force!" The young guard wasn't bluffing. He could break the door down at his leisure.


Talia worriedly looked down at Rivv, now on the ground, then hesitantly stepped out on the ledge just as he had earlier. With both feet on the tapered ledge she attempted to drop down and catch it. Her fingers felt the sun aged wood of the tavern walls only briefly before she fell toward the stone alley below.


Rivv muttered an unheard obscenity under his breath before he positioned himself under Talia and reached out to catch her. She landed in his arms bringing him to the ground and knocking the breath out of his lungs.


"I'm so sorry Rivv!", Talia exclaimed as she sat on top of his chest.


"Can't...breathe", Rivv monotonously said, barely audible. Talia stood up and helped Rivv to his feet. A loud crash was heard above them as Aelik bashed through the door.


"We have to go." Rivv runs for the corner of the alley, Talia right behind him.


Aelik entered the now empty room and upon seeing the open window, peered outside. Nothing but empty streets and dim candlelight from the surrounding houses and businesses. He sighed and went back downstairs to report to Captain Trenton.


Once Rivv and Talia were a safe distance from the tavern he turned to her, "You should go home."


"I can't just go home." Talia seemed shaken but excited by the recent events. "I should be working."


"Go home. Don't worry about The Trotting Mare. I've brought Ricbert more coin than he could count in business and ale. I'll make sure he understands," Rivv assured her.


Talia smiled and went in to kiss him on the cheek. Rivv stopped her midway and brought out a small concealed blade from his waist. "You might need this." Talia stared unsurely at the blade for a moment before grasping it from his hand. Rivv turned and began to fade into the darkness of the back alley streets.


Alone and in the shadows Rivv breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He had always enjoyed seeing Talia but she was too sweet and innocent for his corruptions. He regretted even motioning her over earlier. It changed nothing. He should have went upstairs himself and never involved her.


He crept through the alleys and contemplated the day. Rivv was at home in the dim backstreets of Bleakburn. He felt invisible here, unseen.


He turned another corner and noticed something at far end of the street. He lurked forward and noted a motionless body. He could now hear the sounds of an obvious struggle. As he silently continued to the sound he could see the two participants, a giant of a man on top of a smaller figure. He stealthily pulled one of his daggers and moved in closer. Once within a few feet of the conflict he took another quick step placing his dagger to the throat of the large assailant.


"So what's all of this about then?" Rivv said cheekily with his dagger just shy of penetrating flesh.

 

[Chi Chi]

Rosa struggled under the unnamed man’s immense weight. She could feel his grimy nails digging deep into her wrists, immobilizing her. She hadn’t felt this helpless since before she was trained as an assassin. His face pressed closely to hers and she gagged at the putrid stench.


“You’ll pay for this. It could have all been so easy,” the man huffed. Rosa tried to push him away with her free arm, but it seemed to not even faze him. He was a wall.


He looked up at her, malice in her eyes. He would kill her; she could read it in his face. Rosa glared back at him and spit in his eyes. The man roared in rage, wound back his free hand and back-handed Rosa in the head. “That’ll teach you to disrespect me,” he grunted, wiping the spit from his face. Rosa was reeling from the smack. Her vision had gone black for a moment and now there was a pounding ache behind her eyes. She felt the warm trickle of blood make its way down her face. Her only success had been to make him even more enraged.


Her clothes were torn now, and her already feeble struggles were growing weaker. The adrenaline burst she had felt earlier was draining, but she couldn’t tell if the fuzzy feeling in her head was from being hit, or if it was the remaining effects of the alcohol. She was entirely overpowered. She felt his bear-like hands wrap around her throat, crushing her windpipe. Rosa gasped, straining to pull oxygen into her lungs.


Just as the lack of air was about to cause her to pass out, the weight was removed. Rosa gasped, and the rush of air was almost painful in its suddenness. “Oh!” she exclaimed, dragging in another breath. Then, Rosa rolled onto her stomach and proceeded to throw up.


Only when she heard a new voice say, “So what's all of this about then?” did she realize that her attacker had not stopped of his own free will. Rosa wiped her mouth with her shredded sleeve. Painfully, she pulled her cloth mask out of her pocket and wrapped it around her face. She was going to finish this.


Pulling her final hidden blade from a sheath on her back, Rosa sprang towards her now restrained assailant, and swiped her dagger across his throat. For a second nothing happened. Then, a bubbling red stream of blood flowed from the man’s neck. He gurgled in surprised, choking on his own blood. It was a satisfying sound.


Rosa moved backwards quickly, taking in the newcomer. He was handsome; tall and lean with a good face. He was clearly strong - enough so to pull back such an enormous man, though he did have the element of surprise. Only the gods knew his reasoning for entering the fight.


Straightening herself up Rosa warned, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now. Otherwise you’ll end up like these other two men.” She was trying her hardest to look formidable, though she knew how she must truly look. Blood was trickling from her forehead and into her eyes, her clothes where dusty and ragged. Various scrapes and bruises covered her body, and her hand throbbed from where it had been stomped on.


Still, she was unsure of this new man. She would rather be rid of any witnesses. Even though the lower half of her face was covered by the mask, he could have gotten a look at her features when he pulled the black-haired man off of her. Rosa had committed two murders here, and was unlikely to get away with a plea of self-defence. There was no way she was letting herself get caught.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

Rivv continued to subdue the large, dark haired man as he watched the previously overwhelmed figure in front of him jump up, procure a hidden blade and adeptly slash at the attacker's throat. The sound of gasping blood-filled breathes enveloped the alley streets while the remaining life in the recently lacerated man faded into nothingness.


Rivv released the now lifeless body and it slumped over sideways onto the cold stone street of the silent alleyway. He starred at the masked person in front of him, clearly female, and sized her up. She seemed oddly familiar to him but he couldn't place the memory. She was tall for a woman, slender and evidently worse for wear from the struggle that had transpired before he arrived. The crescent moon reflected off of the trickling blood rolling down her face. Her clothes were tattered and she was obviously exhausted but still maintaining a formidable pose.


“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now. Otherwise you’ll end up like these other two men.” Her words were sharp, as well as her eyes as she delivered her warning.


Rivv weighed the situation and took on a relaxed demeanor before replying, "Rethnor and Qiir. Can't say I'm surprised they ended up like this or that it didn't happen sooner." He continued, "The city guards knew of these men well. They won't be missed. Predators. Most of their victims weren't so lucky."


He looked the woman over again, "You..." he stopped. He wanted to say she reminded him of Triksy. Instead he lightly sighed, "I have no fight with you. I'll be on my way."


Rivv started back down the moonlit alleyway, contemplating the events of the day.

 

[Chi Chi]

Rosa stood her ground as the bizarre man talked; only half listening as her head swam. Was she going to pass out? The ground was swaying and she could hear her breaths come out like creaking branches. Maybe she was going to faint. Should she ask the stranger for help?


Looking up, Rosa saw the man’s blurry figure sauntering off into the night. She blinked, slowly, and he was gone. Rosa stood there for another minute, dumbfounded, until she began to cough. The terrible ache in her ribs snapped her fuzzy mind back to reality.


She was in shock. That much was apparent, and now that she was aware of that fact, Rosa could fight it. Think… think… She needed a healer. The assassins had their own healer, an elder woman named Bianca, who was well-versed in curative magic and ancient medicines. She lived alone in a loft above her herbal shop. The shop would be closed now, but there was a back entrance for assassins in need of dire healing.


With a firm plan in her mind Rosa gathered her scattered blades and stumbled out of the alley, leaving the two bleeding corpses of Rethnor and Qirr behind. She was grateful for the cover of night, which protected her from any inquiries about her dubious state. There was no one to notice her now.


Rosa had no idea how long it took, but she finally found herself in front of a rundown shop with “Miss B’s Remedies” scrawled on the windows. She didn’t bother with the front door. Instead, she went around the back. There stood an unkempt bush of witch hazel. Rosa squeezed herself between it and the wall, and slid back the secret panel. Behind the panel were three different handles. She turned the first one up, second up, and third one sideways. The door slid open.


The assassin’s entrance opened up into Miss B’s herb storage. The heady scents of the herbs were almost overwhelming. There were various roots and leaves overflowing on every shelf. Rosa could only name a few; comfrey, burdock, peppermint, gingko, and feverfew.


She pushed the storage door open and entered the main shop. Sitting in a large plush chair behind the counter was Miss B herself. Miss B was a small lady, with a beak-like nose and small birdy eyes to match. Her hair was salt-and-pepper and her hands were rough leather, permanently dyed by herbs.


Almost expectantly, Miss B rose from her chair and huffed, fixing her sharp eyes upon Rosa. “Come here, girl. What have you gotten yourself into? You stink like an alehouse!” Without waiting for an answer the crooked old woman shuffled forward and grabbed Rosa by the wrist, dragging her to a seat. She poked and prodded at Rosa, all the while muttering and clucking under her breath. Then, without a word, she made her way to the storage room.


After a few minutes Bianca emerged again, mixing bowls and herbs in hand. She shoved a handful of herbs at Rosa, looking expectantly down at her. Rosa sighed and reluctantly put them in her mouth. They tasted gritty and strong, but she dared not to spit them out. She swallowed the herbs without any assistance from water.


As Rosa endured the herbs, Miss B began to crush more in her bowls and muttering simple spells. When the mixture was wet and pulpy, the lady smeared it onto Rosa’s wounds. Only when she was satisfied with the thick layer did she speak again. “So Rosa, what brings you here tonight?”


Rosa looked at the floor, ashamed. “I… I made a mistake, Miss B.”


Thwack!


Rosa recoiled, her left hand smarting and swollen. Bianca held the herb crusher in her hand, her beady eyes burning into Rosa’s emerald ones. “Child! You don’t get to make mistakes! That’s how you end up dead on the side of the road. I haven’t seen you this beat up since Fengir first made you his apprentice, but at least then you had an excuse. Next time, I’ll leave you to bleed out. Hear me, child?”


Rosa sighed heavily. She had been expecting this. “Yes. I will be more careful, Madam Bianca. I am very sorry to impose on you. It will not happen again.”


“It better not. Now, child, let’s get you into a cot. You will need at least two days’ rest. Your ribs are broken.”


The two of them trudged upstairs, Rosa leaning heavily on the aged woman who was much stronger than she appeared. When Miss B laid Rosa on the empty cot, she murmured a few magic words of healing and sleep, and touched Rosa lightly on the forehead. Rosa let the sweet, spell-tinged sleep pull her under. In her sleep, she let a rare smile escape.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

As Rivv reached the opposite end of the now deathly silent alley he heard the pained coughs of the peculiar woman behind him. He stopped, debating whether he should turn back and aid her or continue into the shadows. His mind flooded with memories, a past life flashed before his eyes in an instant. Shaking his head and gritting his teeth he turned the corner. Surrounded by nothingness, Rivv let out a sigh of relief...hell of a day.


The city was quiet this time of night, especially in the narrow passageways of the back alleys. After half an hour of walking and clearing his head in the peacefulness of dark he decided it was time to find a bed. There was only one option. The Sepulcher, deep within the slums of town. Its name matched its hospitality, cold and unconditional. There, anyone with questions was met with fewer answers.


Destination set, Rivv trudged down the alleys toward The Sepulcher. He was already well within the slums on the edge of the city. He went on until only a few paths separated him from his haven.


Nearing the inn there was a figure posted up beside a wall close to the exit of the calm, dim lit back streets. Rivv studied the figure for a moment and while crouched, slowly made his way closer. As Rivv inched his way forward he noticed the figure was an armored man and that he appeared to be asleep. Once within fifteen feet of the man he could see the trademark garb of a city guardsman. A quick look over his face brought forth an even more surprising revelation.


Tork? alive? and a guard? Rivv hadn't seen Tork in over eight months. The two worked many jobs together over the years. Some thieving, others more sinister, nevertheless they had become well acquainted over that time. Tork was one of the few people Rivv could tolerate working with.


Rivv made his way to the stone wall, a few feet from Tork, and leaned against it. " I'd have assumed you dead instead of in a guard uniform."


"A welcomed thought to be sure. Death would be more forgiving." Tork replied, still tilting his head down with his eyes closed. "There is much worse than death in this world. I have seen it."


"You are speaking mighty profoundly. What happened after that botched job in Dawnshroud?" Rivv inquired.


"Dawnshroud...forget that place. It doesn't matter. The world is going to hell, Rivv. Surely you have noticed it?" Tork said, his voice was true and focused, as if there was no doubt to what he was saying.


"Of course...but what does it matter? We are helpless to what cannot be explained."


Tork raised his head and stared into the sky. "Maybe you are right...It took my wife Rivv...Nia. After Dawnshroud I knew the life i was living would be the end of me soon enough. We moved to Southbridge and built a home. We lived humbly but comfortably. I was a fisherman and farmer, selling what we didn't need to the markets and travelers throughout the town. Three months ago all of our crops slowly and inexplicably began to wilt. The cattle became ill and fish began floating upside down in the rivers. With no coin and our food stocks running low I was forced back into a life of thieving. This upset Nia greatly. I returned home one morning, after a long night, to find her lifeless body at the table with a half eaten fish in front of her..." Tork trailed off, shaken by his recollection. "What's happening isn't natural Rivv. Something or someone is behind it."


"I'm sorry to hear that Tork. But why join the city guard?" Rivv asked, still unsure what to make of what he had just heard.


Tork turned his attention toward Rivv, "I had nothing left in Southbridge. I couldn't bare to stay in the home Nia and I had built, so I traveled back to Bleakburn. I'm determined to find out what is behind all of this. I can't go back to thieving, Nia wouldn't have it. Joining the guard seemed the best way to survive and possibly see firsthand the boundless corruption of the city and provide some insight as to what's going on with this world."


"I see. What have you gathered so far?"


"Not much, I've been tasked with patrolling the slums since day one. Though i have learned of a meeting between Captain Trenton and some of the higher ranking officials of the city in a few days. I'm sure whatever is said during this meeting will prove very informative."


"So how do you plan on overhearing this meeting?" Rivv said almost condescendingly, growing tired and losing interest in Tork's grandiose way of speaking.


"Well I suppose I don't. I've only been with the guard a few weeks. I couldn't risk it." Tork tilted his head down again with discontent."Would you be willing to eavesdrop on this meeting for me? I don't have much in the way of coin, but I do have the last thing I stole before Nia passed." Tork pulled a large, radiant blue sapphire out of his pocket.


Rivv's eyes lit up, "That must be worth one hundred gold coins. I wouldn't expect that sort of payment for a job like this."


"It was appraised at one twenty-five. I can't stand to look at it anymore. It's yours for any help obtaining some understanding of what is happening and with that, perhaps some closure on Nia's death." Tork extended his open hand, with the sapphire in the middle of his palm, toward Rivv.


Staring at the sapphire briefly, Rivv grabbed it and said " Very well. Meet me at The Bloody Goat tomorrow morning. We can further catch up and discuss the details of the meeting. I'll be at The Sepulcher in the meantime."


Tork nodded, and with that Rivv made his way to The Sepulcher.

 

[Chi Chi]

Rosa awoke to the fading light of sunset pouring into the recovery room at Miss B’s Remedies. She knew it was nearing twilight only because the sole window in the room lay to the west. Without that knowledge, Rosa would be completely at a loss. She was groggy from the effects of the herbs and magic.


Oh gods, the magic, she groaned inwardly. As she regained consciousnessRosa began to feel nauseous, the way she always did when she came in contact with magic. With a reeling stomach she rolled sideways to hang her head over the bed. Rosa had just enough time to notice a bucket next to her bedside before she began retching. Of course Miss Bianca had been prepared. She knew the toll magical healing took on Rosa.


“Ahhh you’re awake, girl,” Miss B tittered, standing in the doorway. Somehow she always knew when her patients were in need of more care. Rosa opened her mouth to respond, but vomited into the bucket instead. Miss B shook her head, a half smile on her weathered face. “I’m surprised you have enough fluids left to do that. I’ll fetch you more herbs and some water. Don’t worry, you don’t need any more magic at this point,” she added, noticing the horrified look on Rosa’s face.


While Miss Bianca fetched her healing supplies, Rosa struggled to sit up in the cot. The process was painful and she was breathing heavily by the time she was in the sitting position. Once up she took an inventory of her injuries. Her bottom right ribs were broken, bruises were splotched across her pale skin, her face felt swollen and her left hand was throbbing. She’d been worse off, but it was embarrassing to be so beat up from only two men. And untrained ones at that.


Miss B returned, smelling of strong herbs. This time, instead of feeding Rosa the herbs, she had brewed a tea with them. Rosa was unsure which roots and leaves were in the tea, but she could smell the reassuring scent of peppermint. The concoction was indeed minty and left an agreeable numbing feeling in the back of her throat. Rosa hummed in pleasure.


“I’ve made you a package of herbs to brew your own tea. Have a cup of it every day for the next week, or your bones will break again. They’ll be mended by tomorrow night, but sensitive for the week. The healing magic I used on you yesterday will keep working over the next couple days. You shouldn’t feel sick from it though. The bruises and swelling will go away on their own. You don’t need me for that. That will be fifteen gold, child,” the beady-eyed woman commanded, glancing at her injured ward.


Already feeling rejuvenated from the tea Rosa got out of the cot and grabbed her coin purse from the side table. She pulled out fifteen gold plus an extra three silver. “Your work is always appreciated,” she said, bowing her head in thanks and passing her the payment. It was time to go home.


Rosa left Miss B’s Remedies the same way she entered; through the assassin’s door. Outside, she breathed in the fresh air and winced at the pain in her side. Right. Gentle movements, she reprimanded herself. She turned herself to the north and began the slow walk into the twilight.


The assassin’s headquarters was an inn by the name of the Muddy Hydra. Those without families or other attachments lived there. Anyone who was involved in the Black Market knew to find the assassins at the Muddy Hydra. Those who lived there divided jobs brought to them and gave a portion of their earnings to pay for room and board. They were like their own family of misfit killers. Even the inn owner was a retired assassin; a man with one eye named Mjuriil.


Rosa lurched through the door of the Muddy Hydra just as the last light was fading from the sky. She was weary and her stomach grumbled in protest of her recent tea-only diet. Tiredly, Rosa made her way to the kitchens, in hope that they still had some leftovers from the evening meal.


Upon seeing her, the cook laughed, his massive belly shaking. “Rosa, my girl! You’ve gotten in quite the tussle, no? You need old Hazfuh’s venison stew to get you back strong! Hazfuh will get you a big bowl and you will eat all,” the large man told her, eyes still laughing. He waddled away and came back a moment later, hot stew in hand.


Rosa took the bowl gratefully. Her stomach was still queasy from her magic encounter but she knew she would feel better with something inside it. She made her way into the dining hall, the stew’s hardy smell making her mouth water.


A few of Rosa’s comrades looked up with curiosity at her condition, though none approached. Rosa was grateful for that; she was in no hurry to explain her state. She was pitiful. Gulping down the stew at a ravenous speed, Rosa felt more of her strength return. Thanks to Miss Bianca, she would be back to health in no time.


Though Rosa had been awake for only a few short hours, her body was once again demanding rest. Rosa picked up her empty bowl and dropped in back off at the kitchen on her way to her living quarters. She entered her room, closed and locked her door, and had barely stripped out of her clothes before falling fast asleep in her bed.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

It was well into the night when Rivv finally reached the Sepulcher, he looked it over and started up the couple of steps separating the deck from the dirt covered walkway below. The inn itself had obviously been neglected for a while. Most of the planks were warped from age and sun making them twist and bend, even the foundation posts suffered. This caused the entire structure to lean ever so slightly to one side.


As Rivv opened the doors to the inn he was surprised by how well kempt the inside seemed in contrast to it's outside appearance. The floor was clean, no cobwebs on the ceiling or dust on the walls to be noticed, everything seemed in order.


Rivv continued to look around the room and he noticed to his right , behind a counter, stood a balding, white haired older man. He was hunched over the counter with an unamused look staring back at Rivv. The two met glances in silence for a moment before Rivv broke the tension, "room?"


The old man pointed to a small sign on the counter, all it read was 2 silvers. Rivv assumed the man was mute and began patting over his tunic hoping to find some sort of coin. His hand ran over a side pouch where he felt the hard, round shape of a coin. He dug into his pocket to retrieve it and opened his hand. One silver piece stared back at him. Rivv let out a light, frustrated sigh and looked back up at the innkeeper who was still staring at him with an impatient look.


The two briefly stared at each other once more before the innkeeper let out a guttural, unintelligible sound of displeasure and stuck his hand out to accept the coin. Rivv handed it to him and the innkeeper pointed to a room on the opposite side of the building. Rivv put his hands together and nodded graciously before performing an about-face spin and hurrying to his half priced room before the old man changed his mind.


Once in the room, Rivv snooped around for a moment, checking for anything unusual. A bed and a tiny end table were the only objects of note. Fair enough...he then collapsed face first onto the bed still fully clothed.


The morning sun came in fast and unforgiving as it beamed through the small window above the headrest like a magnifying glass onto Rivv's neck. "Stop..." Rivv murmured to himself as he tried to rub the heat from his neck. The events of the day before ran through his mind and he soon remembered he was to meet Tork at the Bloody Goat. He lumbered out of bed and stretched before noticing a glass of water on the end table beside the bed. This slightly unnerved him because he didn't remember it being there the night before. He shrugged it off and headed out to the lobby of the inn.


Back in the lobby Rivv could smell something that had the vague hint of food. There were two men sitting at a table on the edge of the room eating a bowl of questionable color, consistency, smell and textured slop. Rivv decided a breakfast ale with Tork seemed a more reasonable meal. He thanked the old innkeeper again as he made his way to the door to no response and headed for the Bloody Goat.


The roads of the slums were mainly dirt, with a few shanties and hovels dotted in between the ill-established businesses. At the very end of the same road the Sepulcher leaned on stood the Bloody Goat tavern. The Bloody Goat was more recently built and still had some color in it's wood, it sat at ground level and had a crudely drawn horned goat's head atop the doors in red paint.


Rivv pushed aside the batwing doors and took in the tavern. It was fairly quiet, even for this time of day. Of the dozen or so tables only four were occupied and the bar was empty aside from one lone woman with her head on the counter. With no sign of Tork, Rivv picked the table in the furthest corner of the room and sat down.


Once seated and with no coin, he leaned his chair back against the wall and waited for Tork.


Only a few minutes passed before Tork arrived. Tork rushed through the tavern doors in anxious, nervous manner. He quickly scanned across the room and upon noticing Rivv , he bolted over and sat down. "Where have you been? I thought you took the gem and bailed on me. I went to the Sepulcher and asked the innkeeper if he had seen you. He just stared at me."


"Yea he doesn't say much." Rivv waved his hand to motion over the young lad serving drinks and turned back to Tork, "How about some ales? Your treat."


Tork smirked and relaxed a bit before replying, "Yea. Sure. Never too early for an ale."


The boy, no older than thirteen, came back with two ales and placed them on the table, "hafta pay now." Rivv and Tork both shrugged, Tork produced a gold coin and handed it to the boy, his eyes grew wide and he went on his way. They both took a sip and in unison, winced and let out a long breath...slum ale.


After a few more drinks and light conversation Rivv inquired about the job at hand, "so have you learned anymore about this meeting?"


"It will take place in Alec Pinn's town home. Just off main street near the markets. The location alone raises my suspicions." Tork's voice lowered and he leaned in, "Most meetings like this would take place in the city hall. Fortunately this means there will be less security and possible better means of entry."


"I see." Rivv stroked his chin in thought, "we may need to find someone more practiced in this manner of work to provide more insight. I might still have a connection within the assassin's guild. Cyron. I've worked with him before. He would know someone in the guild with this set of skills."


"You know I have to distance myself from this so do whatever you think best." Tork said before looking around the room nervously, "I should go. Tell me what you decide. The meeting is in three days. You can find me on night patrol near the alley connecting to the middle of town where we spoke last night." Tork stood up without finishing his ale and made his way to the tavern doors.


Rivv leaned back in his chair again against the wall and thought upon the best course of action while sipping his ale.

 

[Chi Chi]

By the time Rosa awoke again, the sun was already high in the sky. She hated that she was wasting so much of her time sleeping, but she knew that was the price to pay to heal even broken bones in a matter of days. And the healing was working. As Rosa pulled herself out of bed she could already feel the difference. Breathing wasn’t a sharp pain; it had subsided to a dull ache. Rosa was merely sore, both in her body and her pride.


Knowing she wouldn’t be working for a few days now Rosa dressed in more casual clothing, trading her black for soft browns and deep greens. She still, however, strapped on her blades and braided the spike strip into her hair. It would be stupid to let her guard down, especially injured as she was.


The dining hall downstairs was mostly empty, though a couple people were lunching casually. Breakfast and dinner were the only meals that the assassin’s guild really shared together. Lunch was always available after high sun, though you had to retrieve it from the kitchens yourself – unless you were an actual guest at the inn. Those people were shown the utmost service. Though not very common, some people did come to stay at the Muddy Hydra. Mjuriil always kept his good eye out for those not of the guild, for he could not survive on a share of the assassins’ earnings alone.


Rosa made her way back to Hazfuh’s kitchen. The jovial man greeted her simply by shoving a plate of mutton and steamed greens in her hand and ushering her out with a smile. He and his staff were already in the beginning preparations of dinner and had no time for idle chat.


“Ah, Rosa!” Mjuriil called to her, sliding out from behind the dining hall entrance. “Fengir heard about your arrival home last night. He wishes to speak to you while you lunch. You’ll find him sitting at one of the left tables.” The inn owner squeezed Rosa’s shoulder in sympathy.


Rosa sighed heavily. She knew that her clumsy arrival would not go unnoticed by the sharp eyes of Fengir, though she had hoped to avoid him a little longer. Fengir was the assassin which had taken pity on Rosa as a small girl and with whom she had learned all of her skills as a killer and a spy. He was a short man at only 5’5’’ but his confidence demanded respect. Unknown to Rosa when she first appealed to him as a girl, Fengir was second-in-command to the assassin’s guild and only his status had convinced the others to accept such a waif of a child into their ranks. Rosa owed him everything.


Refusing to slink to him like a mutt whose master had scolded it, Rosa entered the dining hall with her bruised face held high. She located Fengir’s table and strode towards him. As she made eye contact with him, however, Rosa felt some of her assurance drain. Fengir’s eyes were as black and cold as a moonless night, set deep into his stoic brown face. Rosa knew he was angry, though there would be no shouting. Fengir’s anger was a quiet one, like the steady boiling of water.


Arriving at the table, Rosa set down her plate and then swept into a low bow of penitence. “Rí, you wish to talk to me?” Rosa inquired, using the assassin’s title for second-in-command. The leader of the assassins was formally called Ard Rí, meaning “high king”, while Fengir’s Rí simply meant “ruler”. These were not words of the language used in Bleakburn, and were used solely among the assassins.


There was a moment of silence before Fengir spoke. “Yes, I did. You may seat yourself and eat.” Rosa straightened out, her ribs protesting at their usage. She sat down and slowly began her meal. Fengir allowed her to finish half of it before speaking again.


“Miss Bianca informed me of your injuries,” he began.


Traitorous old bag, Rosa growled to herself.


“But failed to tell me exactly how you came across them. To my knowledge, your last assignment was to kill a child slaver. Word has gotten around that you were successful in your assignment, and even took down the slaver’s entire ring. Surely such clumsy and despicable men did not injure you so gravely before you completed the assignment. Am I correct?” he cocked his head to the side, still void of emotion.


Rosa swallowed her nervousness and wore the same expressionless face as her Rí. “Yes, you are correct. My injuries were not sustained from any of the slavers.” She offered no extra information, though she knew he would not let it rest there. His piercing stare confirmed that suspicion and Rosa was forced to continue. “After my assignment, I went to an alehouse. After consuming too many beverages I took a shortcut through an alley and was caught unaware by two men. They attacked me and I was too inebriated to properly defend myself. I killed one and was assisted by a civilian in killing the other. My face was covered, so I let the civilian live. I am sorry for my shameful behavior.” There was no point in lying to Fengir about any part. He could always see right through her.


“As you should be, Rosa. The assassin’s guild has no room for drunks or silly girls with nothing in their heads. Your actions were most unbecoming and you almost paid for it with your life. You will go to the goddess’s temple and pray for forgiveness and to clear your heart and mind. Then you will spend the rest of today and tomorrow cleaning it and helping with the daily sermons. I will find a new assignment for you, and you will regain your honour by completing it flawlessly,” Fengir told her. His clear disappointment in her was worse than the beating she received by Miss B.


“Of course, my Rí,” Rosa bowed her head respectfully. His punishment stung, but it was fair.


Fengir stood up and walked over to her. “I want you to take my place in this guild one day, Rosa. There is much potential in you; do not waste it,” he confided in her. Then, Fengir left Rosa to finish her meal in peace.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

The day lumbered on unaware and unforgiving of the matters of man and beast. Rivv still sat at his table in the Bloody Goat drinking on the generous credit of Tork's gold coin. In quiet contemplation and reflection he watched the tavern slowly fill with the mid-afternoon crowd while sipping his drink. The noise was soon more than he cared for and he stood, stretched and headed for the door.


The streets of the slums were busy this time of day, filled with all manner of person trying to make their way in life. Each held varied levels of honesty. Merchants, peddlers, beggars and sleight-of-hand artists were among some of whom could be found dotting the sides of the streets.


Bleakburn, being the capital city of Altin, had slums different than that of most cities. Any other slums of another town or city you would think of run down shanties and the residents struggling to survive. While this was still the case in some parts,the center hub of the slums was actually very similar to the main streets of Bleakburn itself. There were plenty of humble businesses to be found here aside from the random street merchants. Of course the quality of trade was lower, the clothes were ragged, more beggars and desperation. Still the ones who called it home knew it as such and made it so. The locals didn't know it as the slums rather as Bleakside. A play on the city's name itself.


Rivv wandered Bleakside eying the merchants for one whom might be able to offer him a decent price on his recently acquired payment for a job not yet finished. After nearly half an hour of meandering he spotted an attractive woman with a small table in front of her filled with various gemstones and jewelry spread out over a fine white satin cloth. She was fair skinned, medium height, a rubenesque figure, with auburn hair and dark eyes.


"A fine display." Rivv approached the table with a smile starring into the woman's eyes. She returned a peculiar sideways glance, "I'm afraid that won't get you near as far as coin."


"You mistake me. I was merely admiring your..." Rivv paused a moment for effect, "stones."


The woman let a brief curl of a smile come to the edge of her lips that quickly faded. "You're cute but I'm afraid it has been a long day. Speak business or leave me to mine."


Rivv maintained his smile, "Very well, to the point then. I have something you may be interested in. Do you have a name?"


The merchant's demeanor lightened, "On these streets I am known as Ciara. That will do for now. And you?"


"A pleasure Ciara. Rivv." He extended his hand. The two shook hands and Rivv said, "Now that we have exchanged pleasantries. I'm in possession of a gem of considerable value. I would rather not display it in the streets. Do you have a more private place to talk business?"


Ciara's face showed obvious intrigue, "I'll be the judge of that." She began to place her merchandise into a case on the edge of the table and folded the white cloth over her arm. With the jewelery case in tow she motioned to large tent a short distance behind her. "Follow me."


The two entered the tent. It was well lit with a brazier and numerous candles. A round table sat in the center with magnifying glasses of different strengths, crosslock tweezers and other assorted tools for examining fine jewelery.


Rivv was suprised by this level of professionalism and wondered whether this would be to his benefit or detriment.


Ciara sat at the table and pointed to the chair opposite of her. Rivv sat as well. Ciara rubbed her hands together slowly, "Well let's see it."


Fighting the urge to make a joke Rivv dug into his pocket, produced the sapphire and placed it in the center of the table. The flames from the candles and brazier licked at the stone, some penetrating and others reflecting off it's cut.


"Ah yes, you weren't lying. I could make some fine pieces out of this, " Ciara said, her eyes never lifting from the sapphire. "Let's take a closer look." With the gem in one hand and magnified eyeglass in the other Ciara meticulously turned the stone over and over examining every detail. Making barely audible sounds of approval all the while. After a thorough look at the stone she sat it back down in the center of the table and said "flawless. I haven't seen a sapphire of this color and quality in quite some time. The cut is impeccable. I can offer you fifty gold pieces for it right now."


Rivv sighed, "Fifty gold? We both know it is worth over twice that. I have it on good authority it was appraised at one twenty-five. You'll have to do better or I'll find someone that can."


"You mean Shaan? I'm afraid that will be a long walk for no reason. Times are changing. The vanity that ruled the world is becoming irrelevant. As someone that deals in vanity trust me." Ciara had a troubled hitch in her voice that showed her doubt and worry in whether she could maintain her business for much longer.


"There is truth in what you say. Still, I cannot take fifty. Seventy-five is as low as I will go. There will always be rich bastards with more money than they can spend and no worry as to anything but social status and who shines more than the other." Rivv reached for the sapphire. It's rich blue hues projecting onto the table from the surrounding light.


"Wait. Seventy-five is fair. Give me a moment." Ciara walked over to a large chest, unlocked it and brought out a bag of coins. She counted out seven stacks of ten and then five more and slid them towards Rivv.


Rivv smiled, "you seem honest enough and I'm sure whatever you end up making will be worthy of a goddess."


Ciara returned the smile. The two shook hands again and Rivv entered the streets with a bit more purpose and a lot more leverage than before. 
It was nearing night in Bleakburn. The perfect time for shady dealings and all other malicious and devious activity. Riding a line of vague moral ambiguity, Rivv had no problem with either side of the coin. As long as the coin existed.


With the universal leverage of gold in his pocket Rivv navigated the winding back alleys toward the center of town to revisit the Trotting Mare. He wondered of Talia and if she had made it home safely . He was also curious of what the rumor mill had churned out over the past few nights.


The sun had fully set and Rivv was halfway to the Trotting Mare when he noticed a strange figure walking towards towards him in the distance. It was fully cloaked and moved with a precise yet subtle grace that seemed almost inhuman. As if it were hovering.


Unsure how to approach the figure Rivv leaned against the wall ,in the shadows, and waited. A few minutes went by and it was now within ten feet.


Without slowing and it's hood still lowered, a deep, gristly, haunting voice seemed to come from nowhere except the direction of the figure, "you have much yet to learn in wearing the night."


Rivv remained silent and motionless until the figure was out of sight. Only then did he continue his way towards the tavern more alert and peering over his shoulder often.


After the strange encounter in the alley the lights of the Trotting Mare were a very welcomed sight. Rivv made his way around to the entrance where Ricbert greeted him at the door with his usual jovial smile, "Ahh Rivv. Surprised to see you back here so soon after that business with guards. Figured you would be laying low for a while."


"And deprive myself of the best ale in the city? Nonsense. Besides, the mare attracts a particular type of crowd this time of night that I can almost stand." Rivv's smile turned more tense with a hint of worry. "Is Talia working?"


"Afraid not. Haven't seen her since she disappeared on me the other night. What happened?"


"Let me buy you a drink for keeping the guards off my back and I'll tell you about it." They both walked to the bar.


Rivv summarized what happened that night during the time Ricbert spoke with the guards and after. Omitting a few details of course.


Ricbert stroked his chin a bit, "So it was you they were after. The description seemed to suit you but I wasn't sure. You should have left Talia out of it." He sighed, "what's done is done. If she doesn't turn up tomorrow we should start getting worried. She isn't a worldy girl. She might be held up in her house."


Rivv nodded, "I wasn't thinking. I regretted it the minute we entered the upstairs room. I'll stop by her place in the morning. If she isn't there...well, the only other thing would be to start asking around."


"As good of an idea as I could have." Ricbert said, taking a generous gulp of his drink.


"What of the guards? Have they been back?" ,Rivv asked.


"Just the usual rounds. No questions. Haven't seen the captain since that night. Can't say i miss him", Ricbert said with a glower. "He comes in here just to kill the atmosphere sometimes. To slip his veiled threats into small talk. It's obvious he is in on more takes than he can count."


"I don't doubt that. He will slip soon. I have a feeling he is just one of the clogged arteries choking the heart of this city". Rivv had little more fire in his voice than before.


"I'll drink to that." Ricbert held up his mug. They each took a drink in unison.


Rivv and Ric chatted a bit longer before Ricbert moved on to mingle with other patrons. Rivv sat at the bar and flirted with the barmaids and it wasn't long before he turned in for the night. The Trotting Mare was fairly quiet tonight and Ricbert let Rivv have a room on the second floor for free. Not that he couldn't pay but he wasn't used to this much gold in his pocket. Besides, anything free is better than not free.

 

[Chi Chi]

Rosa stood before the temple of Shar, the assassins’ goddess of choice. Shar was known as the goddess of moon and night, unrevealed secrets and loss; a goddess that Rosa had no problem worshipping. Her temple was comprised of dark grey limestone and had large walnut wood doors at the entrance.


Sighing heavily, Rosa pushed her way through the heavy doors. She had changed outfits once again; this time into proper worship attire. Her hair was pulled back tightly from her face and she wore a loose, long-sleeved dress. The dress itself was the colour of smudged charcoal and had intricate stitching around the hem in the script language of Shar, depicting the most basic prayers of her devout.


Rosa knew Shar’s language almost as well as her native tongue by this point. Fengir, being extremely fervent in his worship to the goddess, had made it a very strict requirement in Rosa’s assassin training. Often as a child Rosa was sent to the temple of the assassin goddess to repent for some sort of slight. Late to a lesson? Shar’s temple. Acting fussy towards one of Hazfuh’s meals? Shar’s temple. Taking too long to perfect a fighting manoeuvre? Better go to Shar’s temple and pray that she help you. Now here Rosa was again, to offer her service to her demanding goddess, and to appease her Rí.


Before she had wandered too far into the temple, Rosa was greeted by a familiar face. It was Lacey, one of the many men and women to devote their lives completely to Shar, upholding her temple and spreading her word. The hood of Lacey’s worship dress was drawn up, framing her soft face. As well, Lacey’s flowing sleeves were rolled up, revealing the tattooed words of prayer in Shar’s own language. Every man and woman who gave up their lives to the service of Shar was required to do a number of things. Firstly, they gave up every possession, including their clothes. They were to dress only in the soft grey worship clothes, both within and outside of the temple. They also were to shave their heads and forbidden from wearing face paint or jewellery of any sort. Lastly, but most importantly, they were tattooed with the prayers of Shar.


Receiving the tattoos of Shar was the most crucial part of devotion. When any person decided to join Shar’s temple, there was a long process of initiation. They perfected their knowledge of Shar’s language, learned to lead prayers that were open to public, were taught the proper upkeep of the temple, and went through extreme physical trials to prove their love to Shar. Every acolyte of Shar was trained in combat, often fighting members of the assassin’s guild to prove their competency. After all of that, the man or woman in question would receive their tattoos. Once they were tattooed with the words of Shar, they could never leave her service. Those people would live and die in the temples. Members who deserted after receiving Shar’s marks were sentenced to death, and the tattoos would mark them as a target for life. If someone had doubts in their desire to serve the night goddess, they were free to leave at any point before they received the tattoos - but never again after that.


The tattoos were passages from Shar’s book of prayers. More than that, they were passages unique to each member. Every person was to choose four passages from the book. Each passage went separately on the upper and lower parts of their arm. Even the placement of each passage was important. The prayers chosen to be tattooed on the upper arm were meant to be the prayers that would give the devotee strength, while the passages tattooed on the lower arm portrayed what the person hoped to give back to the temple as a pledge of Shar.


Rosa already knew what Lacey’s passages were. The prayers of strength were from passages about loss and anger, while her prayers of contribution were from passages of repentance and revenge. Despite the strong story those tattoos held, Rosa had never asked for the tale behind Lacey’s choices. Everyone had the secrets of their past, but Shar didn’t care where you came from, as long as you came to her absolute service. For the assassins, that included killing in her name so that Shar may reap their souls to her darkness. Blood sacrifice.


“Vhulir Rosa. It is a pleasure to see you, as always. How have you angered Fengir today, that he might send you to us on a non-worship day?” Lacey questioned with a playful sparkle in her eye, clearly taking in Rosa’s battered face. Lacey had often been the one to oversee Rosa’s punishments when she was younger. She addressed Rosa by the title Vhulir, meaning “child of blood”. It was the name all assassins were given in the temple of Shar, and was a rank of great respect. Rosa had often asked Lacey to not refer to her as such, but it had always been in vain.


There were a few titles within the temple of Shar, given to her worshippers in her own language. Aside from Vhulir, the titles were; Zhun, meaning “worshipper”, which was given to the general masses that prayed to Shar; Hyros, meaning “the one to give all praise”, which was the name of those who lived in Shar’s temple, such as Lacey; and Sharubyn, which translated loosely to “mouth of Shar” and was the highest title of all, given to the temple leader.


“Hyros Lacey,” Rose replied, sweeping into a polite curtsey. “Fengir has deemed that I use my head improperly. I should, as it seems, use it to think and not allow it to be used as a punching bag. I have come to devote two days to Shar’s temple, that she might remind me the proper use of the parts of my body, which I have given in her service.” Rosa spoke with extreme formality, mildly mocking the speaking patterns of the temple’s devout. Many of the temple’s residents would have given Rosa a proper whipping for such disrespect, but Lacey had been dealing with Rosa’s sarcastic wit for many years and Rosa knew she could get away with it.


Trying not to crack a smile, Lacey said, “May the dark goddess Shar correct your misuse of the gifts she has given you. You should be bringing honour to her name, not the shame of defeat. In your service to our goddess, you may spend today polishing her idol and then proceed to clean the living quarters of us remaining in the temple for a life of servitude to our most beautiful Shar. Tomorrow you will help lead three of the day’s worships.”


Argh… cleaning the living quarters, again? Rosa knew she was being gently reprimanded for her earlier mockery. She couldn’t really complain though. From anyone but Lacey, it would be two lashes and hard labour for her two days. Lacey had a soft spot for the orphan girl who had spent so much time in the temple. Rosa curtsied once again and took leave of Lacey to find a polishing cloth and begin her tasks.


Rosa knelt before the idol of Shar. It was a breathtaking image that never failed to leave Rosa in awe. The statue in the room depicted the image of the night goddess. She was draped in a death black robe, which covered her from head to foot. Where the robe ended, her bare white feet stood upon the dais. Shar’s arms were held in front of her, palms up. In one palm sat the moon, as perfect and white as Shar’s skin. In the other hand was a dagger, loosely grasped. The dagger’s hilt was carved bone, depicting images of sacrifice. Rosa brought her eyes up to gaze at the face of her goddess. Shar’s long, black hair blended in well with the robe’s hood upon her head. The goddess’s eyes were embedded sapphires, sparkling and cold blue. Shar’s perfect stone face was unsmiling, with lips red like blood and sharp teeth just poking between them. Teeth sharp enough to tear flesh. The statue was an overall striking figure. Rosa could hardly fathom the time it took to carve and colour such a realistic idol. It had to emulate the perfection that her goddess was.


After a quick prayer for forgiveness and strength Rosa set to her task. She brought out her cloth and polish, slipped the sacrificial dagger from the idol’s hand and began with that. It took over an hour, but when Rosa was finished she was proud of her work. The statue shined in all of Shar’s great glory and, Rosa imagined as sunlight splashed the idol, one of Shar’s sapphire eyes winked its approval.


Rosa reluctantly left the idol room and began one of her least favourite tasks – cleaning the living quarters. In general the rooms themselves were clean, considering none of the Hyros had any possessions of their own. It was only accumulation of dust and cobwebs that required attention. The thing that made it Rosa’s least favourite task was the people.


For the most part, the acolytes of Shar’s temple were stern and disciplined people. They moved quietly and spoke quietly. They all floated around in their identical worship clothing; women wore the grey long-sleeved dress, while men donned loose grey pants and tunic. And most of them disliked Rosa, even if they gave her the general respect her title of Vhulir demanded. To them she was too loud, too crass, too disrespectful, and not devoted enough to the all-powerful goddess, Shar.


All of these things made cleaning the living quarters extremely awkward for Rosa. Especially on a non-worship day, when many devout were allowed to stay in their rooms if they wished. Often, someone would silently enter a room Rosa was cleaning and stare at her with disapproving quiet. Oh, get over it already you pile of rotted apples, Rosa thought to yourself for the umpteenth as she turned around and met yet another gaze of disdain. Thankfully the room she had just finished was the last of the day. She was free to leave.


Returning her cleaning supplies to the store room, Rosa eagerly headed back to the Muddy Hydra. The deep ache in her bones reminded her to brew a cup of Miss B’s bone-healing tea. She wasn’t completely healed, even if she was getting there fast. Rosa sighed with mild annoyance. It would be good to get home.

 

[Jordan Murphy]

The next morning the Trotting Mare was bustling and alive with music. Rivv woke to the sound of a violin and singing. Which is to say, Rivv awoke as gracefully as he could have ever hoped. He stood, stretched and yawned, then hurried down the stairs to see who was responsible for this beautiful music.


Down in the main room of the Trotting Mare a short, tan-skinned, petite woman was dancing around the middle of the room. She had dark black hair and wore a sleek red dress. The tavern had no stage and wasn't known for its musical performances. An old ragged piano sat in the corner with noticeable signs of drunken abuse and neglect. Nevertheless there she was. Her hands moved deftly and her voice rang out soft and pure. She moved gracefully to the rhythm of the music.


Rivv didn't recognize the song but was entranced all the same. He stood at the edge of the tables that had been moved to create a circle in the center of the room. He watched in awe as she carefully glided around the space. Never dropping a note.


The performance had caught the attention of many passersby and the tavern had a full crowd. A rarity for the mare considering it couldn't be past noon at this point.


The current song was drawing to an end and after the last note faded there was an uproarious applause. The musician bowed and began to head off to grab her case on a table at the edge of the room. This was met with the chants for an encore. The chants grew and grew until she had no choice but to turn and smile. She made her way back to the center of the room with violin in hand.


The crowd cheered and she began the next song. Long hot summer day. It was a song Rivv knew well. A crowd pleaser. If you had ever heard a song in Bleakburn you knew this one. Rivv eagerly searched the room for a lute. He hadn't played in months but he knew this was a golden oppurtunity. After scouring the room he noticed a case leaning against a chair on a table near the stairs. He rushed towards it and unclasped its latches. He pulled out a worn lute but it would do just fine.


Rivv began walking to the center of the room. He tuned the lute in stride. Effortlessly he fell into the song. His tenor matching her alto. She smiled welcoming the accompanyment. They sang together:


For everyday I work on the crystal river


Get a half a day off with pay


Come home to a warm chicken dinner


On a long hot summer day


They finished the song to applause and amusement. They both walked to the bar where Ricbert was standing with a huge grin on his face. "Well Rivv, I see you have met my neice. I haven't seen you play in a while. Thought you had given it up."


"We haven't properly met. But a song is better than a handshake." Rivv said, still elated from the experience. "That being said I wouldn't be opposed to a proper introduction."


Ricbert let out a light chuckle, "of course. Rivv, meet my niece Andrea. Andrea, this is Rivv."


Rivv did his best to bow, it wasn't the most graceful bow as it wasn't in his nature but the message was conveyed. "A pleasure to meet you Andrea. You are the most welcomed of surprises. I'm insulted Ricbert didn't tell me about your coming last night. I would have made it a point to catch your whole performance."


Andrea maintained complete composure. You could tell she was used to being complimented. Though she found something intriguing about Rivv. A thief by look and a thief by trade. She had no idea of the latter. " You were a welcomed surprise as well. It's not often someone is able to match me so easily in song. Even more so with an instrument. I'm upset my uncle didn't tell me he was harboring such talent."


"Now, now. It's a rude to speak of me as though I'm not standing here." Ricbert said, flustered.


"We should be going if we are to visit your mother, Andrea." Andrea nodded. Ricbert and Andrea said their goodbyes and headed for the tavern door.


Rivv followed shortly after and decided it best to check on Talia. After all he may have been the last person to see her if something sinister did happen. So he walked the main streets of Bleakburn toward her house, scanning the faces of the crowd with the hope of seeing her or someone familiar with whom he might inquire about her.


The walk proved fruitless and soon he was a few side streets from the main and standing in front of Talia's modest one story home where she lived with her mother. The age of the house was obvious, the paint was beginning to flake and the edges of the windows were showing signs of mildew from leaks.


Rivv approached the house and rapped on the door, then waited. A moment later the door slowly opened to a sliver of a gap.


A soft, tired voice spoke, "yes?"


Trying to better see the person responsible for the voice, Rivv stepped to the side and peered through the crack but was only able to see the faintest outline of a face in the dark room.


"...could I speak with Talia?" Rivv asked cautiously.


The door swung open revealing a short, middle aged woman with long, black, messy hair and bags under her eyes.


"What do you want with Talia!?" Her tone was sharp and distressed.


"My name is Rivv. I am a friend of hers. I spoke with Ribert last night at the Trotting Mare. He said she hasn't been to work in a few days and is worried. I came here to check on her. But judging by your expression she hasn't been home."


Tears began to well in the woman's eyes, "I haven't seen her in two days. This isn't like her. She always checks in with me. I've told the guards. They said they would look into it. Please help me find her! She won't do well on her own..."


Feeling guilty for not making sure Talia made it home safely the night she disappeared, Rivv looked down and away and then back up at the woman, "I can't promise you anything. But I will ask around and do what I can." With that, he turned and walked back to the street.


Back in the busy streets of Bleakburn, Rivv was deep in thought, weighing the matters at hand. It was two days until the meeting he told Tork he would eavesdrop on. That meant he still had to find a representative of the assassin's guild and hire someone with the skills to assist him. On the other hand he felt responsible for Talia and was eager to continue the search for her.


As the sun was beginning to set and after much contemplation, he decided to enlist Tork in the search for Talia while he dealt with the meeting. He made his way back to Bleakside in hopes of finding Tork on night patrol.


A few hours later Rivv found Tork leaning against the wall where they were reacquainted two nights before.


"A bit predictable aren't you?" Rivv asked cheekily.


"It's quiet here." Tork said, without looking up.


Rivv sighed, "I need your help. A friend of mine went missing a few days ago. She works at the Trotting Mare. Her name is Talia. She is 5"6 , with shoulder length dark brown hair and deep brown eyes."


Tork looked up and focused on Rivv, "Sounds like the work of slavers. Maybe worse. I have a few sources that might have something useful to say. What about the meeting?"


"I'm looking for an extra set of skills to assist me. I have an in to the assassin's guild. I came to you first for this favor."


"Don't worry about Talia. I will find her. It's very important that we know what is said during this meeting."


"Then I should go." Rivv said, stepping into the shadows of the back alley.