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Post by Donovan on Jan 25, 2017 10:23:55 GMT -6
Kemper walked slowly. He was nervous. He knew someone was out there. Waiting for him. Ready to attack him. Ready to kill him. He was with his 2 most trusted guardsmen and he knew that there was Donovan’s team in the wings, but you never could trust a mercenary, could you. What if they were on his rival’s payroll? What if they were the assassins hired to put an end to his life? What if he was walking into a trap? The alleyway to his business’s office were always so dark.
There wasn’t a noise as the shadow stepped out of his building’s doorframe. Steel glistened white as it reflected the moonlight. Kemper’s guard took position in front of him. Either man, adorned in heavy armor, carrying torches in one hand and lances in the other. There was a distinctive noise. A whir and a whoosh. Followed by a distinctive, sickening thunk and an arrow struck out from the eye socket of one of the guardsmen. The poor solider fell like a sack of potatoes. Dead before he hit the ground.
Donovan watched as the Sniper on Morrigan’s side of the alley slew one of the guards. Hidden behind a chimney, he didn’t think that he’d been seen as of yet. The mercenary expected to be fighting some knife wielding killers who used speed to get in close, he hadn’t expected a skilled archer to be their foe as well. The torches. It must’ve made them a clearer target. He looked over toward Morrigan and hoped that she had figured the Sniper’s location, though he gestured forward wildly just in case.
Someone stepped into the alleyway behind Kemper. But it wasn’t Doogan. This man wielded a long, razor sharp claymore — not a silver lance. There wasn’t time to waste. Kemper was a dead man if that guard on the ground was to defend him all alone. Don leapt off the roof and pointed Frag at the ground. Holding the sword with both hands, he sent a stream of air at the ground and his decent slowed some. He rolled as he landed, and it hadn’t been quite as soft a fall as he’d hoped, but he hadn’t crashed into any walls this time, so that was a plus.
Raising his shield into a defensive position he squared off in front of the assassin before giving an order. “Take the swordsman. This son of a b*tch is mine.”
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Jan 25, 2017 16:32:49 GMT -6
The sound had been faint. Morrigan had barely even caught it, but by the time she figured out what it was...the deed was done. One of the guards that walked with Kemper fell do the ground, an arrow embedded into his eye. Morrigan had to stifle a gasp at just how quick it had happened...but she didn't have time to grieve for the fallen soldier. No, she had a job to do: an assassin to locate.
Morrigan's eyes first shot to Donovan, to make sure he had seen the same thing she had. When she spotted the mercenary she saw him giving a hurried, wild gesture over to her opposite side. Morrigan's head snapped around and, sure enough, there he was. A marksman, clad in a hood and cloak, had just begun to retreat into the shadows of an alleyway.
The druid didn't hesitate to make a run for the nearest building, eager to catch up to the archer before he repositioned. Wind gathering around her hands once again, she jumped from her current rooftop to one a bit lower, throwing a hand back to let loose a gust of air for some extra momentum. In her haste the gust had been a bit more powerful than Morrigan intended, and she slid across the stoney, but flat rooftop once she landed.
However she was far closer to the alleyway now. Even through the dark of night Morrigan could lean forward and see the marksman. He'd turned and began to ran, the alley running far longer and deeper than Morrigan could have anticipated. Away from the advantageous rooftops Morrigan currently stood atop.
Yet before she could make anything of her current advantage the sniper rounded a corner, out of Morrigan's sight. She cursed beneath her breath and leaped down from the rooftop, magic channeled to her feet this time rather than her hands. With some concentration, and silent communal with the spirits of air, wind rushed from the soles of Morrigan's boots, helping to slow her jump that she may land softly.
Opting to keep her magic focused there, the Druid began to sprint down the alleyway. Each step was enhanced by a slight burst of air, just enough to ensure she caught up to her target.
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Post by Donovan on Jan 26, 2017 17:33:29 GMT -6
Doogan watched as Kemper rounded the corner and slowed down. His chainmail and leathers left him feeling much lighter on his feet than his usual sturdy armor. The only visible marks of his profession was the former soldier’s tower shield and his lance.
But someone else entered the alley before he had the chance to, a tall man with a long, two handed sword. This stranger’s hands were heavily gloved despite it not being particularly cold that night, and when he reached up and slowly pulled the sword from it’s enormous scabbard, Doogan had a faint idea why. The gloves became encased in thin layer of frost.
"More f***ing magic." The Halberdier cracked his neck, and then, despite him being more than a block away he moved, with impossible speed and placed himself between the guardsmen and the Swordsman. “Where was the lightning? Brandon’s not going to know to get help?”
“Well I think we might’ve fallen into a trap, Mr. Doog.”
“I think you might be right, Mr. Vulpen.”
The Sniper ran as fast as it could. It had been sloppy, not seeing the man on the rooftop. This should have been a quick job, but no, she had to take the bait. The crossbow she carried in her arms was designed for long range, powerful shots. but in close combat itd be useless. casting it aside, she drew her short bow. The sniper took a deep breath and suddenly, it was as if she was one with the wall she hid behind. [Sniper use Shade] She’d wait for her moment and get her shot off at the target when she was good and ready.
When Donovan landed, he hadn’t expected the assassin to be showing his face. There was no attempt to conceal who he was or hide any distinguishable figures. They weren’t planning on taking witnesses, it seemed. He had seen Morrigan follow the Sniper away, but she’d forget something pretty important before she left.
“MORRIGAN! LIGHTNING!”
That’s not a normal knife. Frag was right. Now that he was unclose he could see that it wasn’t reflecting the torchlight like it should have been. And Don couldn’t see his face in the broad dagger’s casing. But he couldn’t make out exactly what it was reflecting back. Suddenly, Don heard a thunderous clatter of footsteps, and suddenly Doogan’s gruff voice was merely feet away.
“Where was the lightning? Brandon’s not going to know to get help.”
“Well I think we might’ve fallen into a trap, Mr. Kannin.”
“I think you might be right, Mr. Vulpen.”
Mr. Vulpen, the assassin had a strange and hollow voice, it almost sounded like he wasn’t in the same space as them all, like it was both right beside you and at the end of a very long tunnel. Mr. Doog, the Swordsman, sounded like a block of ice being slowly split in two. Cold and fierce and calculating. They were both exceedingly calm.
The mercenary couldn’t help but imitate Vulpen’s strange, high voice, “Do you think they think we think that they’ve trapped us in our own trap, Mr. Doogan?”
Doogan’s head snapped back to Don with a confused look on his face. “What did that mean? That was a lot of thinking.”
“It was a bit, Doog. My god.” And suddenly Don recognize what the knife was reflecting. It wasn’t his face in the knife. It was Kemper’s.
Without another word, the Assassin disappeared.
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Post by Morrigan Reid on Feb 1, 2017 14:30:47 GMT -6
As Morrigan landed in the darkness of the alleyway, a shout beckoned out to her. The sorceress' eyes opened wide as she came to a halt: she'd forgotten to send the signal. Hastily she threw a hand up to the sky, spirits of electricity silently gathering 'round her hand before she let loose twin arcs of bright lightning up into the sky. She hoped that signal would at least make up for it, even if it was a little late. Gah, she really wasn't cut out for missions such as this...
That said Morrigan's attention returned to her surroundings. She'd been worried that the archer would have gained far too much distance from her during that moment she took to send the signal. Yet Morrigan no longer heard any footsteps, and she couldn't make out anything down the darkness of the alleyway
...Morrigan may have been forgetful, hasty, and clumsy at times, but she wasn't a fool. If she couldn't hear the assassin running away, nor could she make out any sign of them...then they were hiding. Waiting for her somewhere down the alley. Morrigan's problem was that she couldn't be certain WHERE they were hiding exactly. But if she walked blind down the alley then she was at a great risk. Perhaps her earlier forgetfulness had been a blessing, if it had given her the time to think like this. Otherwise she may very well have rushed into her death.
So if Morrigan couldn't progress, but also couldn't afford to simply wait, then she would have to flush the assassin out. Confuse them or startle them into giving their position away. Maintaining her communion with the spirits of lightning, she decided anima would be best suited for it. Elder magic would do far more damage to the assassin, but anima could be used to disrupt their surroundings instead.
Lightning crackled around Morrigan's finger tips before several thin arcs shot forth down the alley. Small pebbles and bits of debris were launched against the walls as the lightning struck the stoney ground beneath Morrigan. Steadily she began to progress down the alley, continuing to assail the area with her magic. The lightning also served to light the alley up, allowing Morrigan to actually see the area clearly. Still, there was no sign of her target...
At least until Morrigan began to approach the corner of the alley. Pivoting from around the wall, fading into view as if she had been made of shadow herself, the assassin let loose an arrow from her bow. Morrigan's eyes went wide as she attempted to pivot, a shot aimed for her heart instead digging into her elbow.
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