LadyRunic

The Prince's Royal Guard

Zatana gripped the package as it was passed to her, her eyes glinting in interest. The parcel slipping into her leather armor as she disappeared deeper into the alley the beggar was sitting in front of. No need to waste such a potentially easy route to the rooftops. Though as she repeated the memorized spell and became wrapped about in shadows, she hoisted herself up onto a high fence and then a roof. The way back would be easy enough, rooftop walking was one of her favorite things to do after all. But Zatana was all too aware of the parcel as it pressed against her ribs. Slowing her pace for a minute, she fished out the paper and examined the seal. It was possible, she reasoned to get the seal off without ruining it. The downside was that it would take time, something she was not certain they could afford. There was always the risk of magic. Yet, she was an information gatherer and this packet held information she wanted to know. Balthazar was of the same Great Game as she and the motto 'two can keep a secret if one of them is dead' made sharing a tad bit difficult if you did not trust the person explicitly. Zatana, a known dark elf, had no belief that the wizard found her trustworthy.

Pausing by a merchant's shop, she drew one of her thin throwing daggers and slid it between the shutters. Catching the latch, she flicked it out of the eye that held it and slowly opened one window. Finding a bedroom with valuables missing, she noted clothing scattered from frantic owners gathering the best of what they had. Stepping carefully she shut the window slowly behind her and closed the latch. Padding over to the door, she peered into the hall and her lips curved into a cat in the cream smile. One door was a jar and a small trail of papers led out of it. Plucking a receipt from one, she saw the ingredients needed to make soap and a seal on the letter. Good, they might have left some supplies. Shutting the door softly as she stepped into the study, she eyed the window and nodded in satisfaction. A way right at hand, that was good.

Searching the desk, she plucked a small tube of wax and smiled. Luck was with her. Grabbing a candle, she stirred the small brazier that seemed to be favored by the merchant in place of a hearth. Letting the wick catch on a small spark, Zatana placed the candle on the desk, pinning the wax above with another knife and paper below to catch any drippings. Carefully she slid the knife between the wax seal and the envelope, working it free. Taking a few shavings from the bottom of the original wax seal, it wouldn't fool the wizard if he was using magic. A grim and probably true prospect, but Zatana saw no reason not to use this as a test to see if that was idea the case. There was also the added bonus Balthazar might think less of her skill which would give her an advantage.

Pulling the papers out, the dark elf quickly scanned each page. If she had the time, she would have copied them out in her shorthand. But there was no time. Looking over them a second time she tried to commit a report to Balthazar himself. Ever detail was important to remember, and she took pride in getting that information fully and correctly. Nothing else was acceptable. The rogue melted the scrappings of wax from the original seal with the newer wax and allowed a dab of it on the back of the seal. Grabbing her knives and sheathing them, Zatana was about to curse. Setting things in order, blowing out the candle, pocketing the used wax and drippings in a pouch within her armor and letting the wax find it's grip, she grimance at the time she had lost. Flicking the latch open, she jumped onto a nearby lower roof and shot off at an almost reckless place. Careful to be aware of the envelope tucked away within her breastplate.

To Claim a Starting World

@Blizz@Cyrania Giving a slight nudge here, to make sure all is well?

The Prince's Royal Guard

Were these people simply foolish? Zatana watched as a small family slowly gathering their things, to the dark elf's eye it appeared as though they had no understanding of the danger that was coming. Were they so foolishly sure in their gate against a horde of creatures that would carve them to pieces? Turning away from the scene, Zatana continued to scan the small open space. If all went well the orcs and goblins would be routed or slain one and all. Which meant she needed the package she had been sent for, and to get back over the rooftops to Faira. Seeing one beggar more on his own, she approached the pewter bowl.

A contact would remain in position until the last moment. Their duty was thus and most all of them had the good sense to know multiple paths out of a dangerous situation. Those that failed to understand the meaning of an exit? They did not stay in business long. It had been one of her first jobs when her grandfather had wanted her trained to the shadow and dagger. 'First you listen and you learn. Then you strike with the tool the enemy hands you.' The old adage was useful, but it was a slight bit more complex than surface value. If someone was waiting for a message, then why group up? It would only deter any attempt of contact, and you would only join a group if you were trying to blend or avoid someone. That this beggar was not cringing away gave her a bit of hope as she adjusted her leather breastplate.

"A token of value." Two coins fell into the bowl. Their clamor covering the thunk as the wooden token was dropped right after the first but before the second. Zatana had fished it out but moments before. "Gods, deliver us from this horde." Though the words would signal fear in a plea to the gods, Zatana was more interested if this beggar would pick out what she wanted.

The Prince's Royal Guard

"I'm sorry, I didn't know the Prince would be sending anyone ahead, Are his forces almost here? What can we do for you?"

Zatana merely gave a direct nod to the talking soldier, her eyes sharp as she studied the streets crowded with more fights. Well, that was excellent. "Which way is the Westgate?" As the guard began to explain then simply pointed, the cloaked woman twisted in the saddle to give Faira a sharp hiss of annoyance at the situation. "Horses can get to our destination quickly, but this crowd will risk someone getting hurt and us slowing our pace. I can go over the rooftops faster, return here and you can get parcel back." It was hardly a question of if she could do it. To Zatana it was simple. She had been given a task and her goal was to see that task done one way or the other. Between the two of them, Faira was faster on open ground and she would be faster on the rooftops.

Jerking her feet out of the stirrups, Zatana tossed the reins to Faira and stood on the mare's back. The horse shifted for a second then stood still, it was not the first time she had been used as a perch for the dark elf to reach something and it was doubtful it would be the last time. Though her nearness to Steak made the sour tempered mare think about perhaps taking a sharp nip at the other horse for the indignities she suffered. "Keep my horse here, if you would? And be warned, she has a foul temper." With those words Zatana boosted herself up onto a balcony as if the plan was already agreed upon. It hadn't been and if Faira found annoyance with it as Zatana moved to swing up onto the roof, the dark elf was already gaining her rhythm of roof walking. To anyone watching it would look utterly odd in the crab like gait to scurry across the rooftops. Tuning out the chatter from the streets below, Zatana jump the small gaps heading west. It took some concentration and she had little worry about being seen. In fact, she paused for a minute in a nook out of sight of Faira or anyone else and recited the spell she knew by heart. Shadows spun about her, making her harder to see. Just another bit of soot or shadow from a bird crossing the rooftops. It was a minor precaution. Just in case someone got the idea to shoot at the odd woman hopping roofs.

Spying one of the five-foot gaps, Zatana swung herself up onto the peak of the roof and thanked the luck that guided her whoever built it had not liked the studded iron wrought tops. Picking up speed, she sprung from the end that overlooked the street and landed heavily on the lower balcony of the building across the way. A minor issue those streets, she thought with annoyance as she flipped up onto the roof and continued on her way. A few more streets and a few gaps, Zatana was starting to think that all cities ought to just have their roofs be flat. The high roads were so much easier to take that way when you were in a hurry! Seeing the gate nearly before her, she slowed and kept an eye out for any beggar hovering near their pick up spot. Careful to plot her decent to the ground from an alley and to dispell the shadowy magic.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

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Arc I - Terreille in Trouble

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Location: Winton

Faeril sat listening carefully to Mikhail while the Dea Al Mon spoke. Her lips were thin and her skin pale. Whatever she had been expecting, hearing that they would be tangling with that one had not been a part of her plan. Oh, she knew sooner or later they would need to get the infamous Warlord Prince on her side. Closing her eyes slowly, she debated on what to tell Mikhail before giving a reluctant sigh. "We cannot afford to leave him. For all his violent nature- which I might remind you is a part of the caste he is from- he will feel the pull to Fatima just as she and I feel the pull to him." The Black Widow ran a hand through her dark locks.

"What pull? Ashke?" Gen's voice was sharp with worry as he narrowed his eyes. He did not like the tone of regret and reluctant defeat in Faeril's voice. She was not one to take news like she had already given into it.

The Black Widow tilted her head and nodded slightly. "It's complicated. I only know now, because I stumbled across it the tomes. Mikhail, seeing as you signed up for experimentation by some two-mark witch, let me explain a bit of the Hourglass to you." The woman gestured and the room filled with a shield of her own power. A risk, but one that was needed. "Black Widows are a natural phenomenon. Most are born so, but there are ways to create them. Something which should, and will be, lost to time if I have my way. The Hourglass is our coven, unlike any other. Most will be a group of relation and friends or a court centered about a Queen. The Hourglass is the Sisterhood of the Black Widows and it spans all the Realms."

"All the- You do not mean-?"

It seemed Gen could not help interrupting, Faeril gave her friend an annoyed look. "All the Realms. Terreille, Kaeleer and, yes Gennar, even Hell. The Dark Realm." While the living occupied both the Lighter Realms, Hell was the realm for the dead. Where the legends of demon-dead came from. Where the hell-hounds lived with harpies, those witches who died violent deaths. It was all in the tales children were told, but there was a subtle fear of it that resided in most people. The land of the dead was no place for the living. "But we're speaking on The pull and Black Widows, and why we are getting the Black to join us." Faeril continued, her tone clipped as though this wasn't a discussion she wanted to have. "Only women have even been part of the Hourglass, until we initiated one boy. A Black Jeweled, boy. No, I do not believe it was Saetan Sa Diablo. The book outdated even it's creator's hand so I would hazard it was his father. Either way, we had a High Priest of the Hourglass. Our loyalty was to him as his was to us. It was the same with Sa Diablo when he took the title. Which I will bet you my wings is the reason that bitch Queen wanted us gone. Our support and aid shrivelled up and unable to help him." Faeril pinched her nose. "Mikhail, we must take the Warlord Prince who is also a Black Widow with us. We have no choice, and only Fatima can hope to control him. If she wishes to control him at all. I am starting to be convinced things are not exactly as they seem with the Queen's pet."

The shop was a riot of movement as Fatima was piled high with dresses and different options. But there was something that could not just sit right with the little Queen. But Dareen saw a lucky break, just as Thom and Dunny disappeared into the shadows a young courtier came hurrying by, his face pale white as he rushed in the direction of the Queen's Residence. Jandar was having a good time of getting the information out of the young woman when she saw he wanted to chat to stave off the boredom. Light came into her eyes and her wary nature dropped considerably as she told him of the local exports of fish and pearls. The sea seemed to be the largest bounty in Winton, but as for imports? "Anything that doesn't come by sea. Honestly, we get more imports for paper, jewelry and such. The Aristo like it but a lot of the shops are struggling with all the gifts-" The young helper caught herself and blushed. "Ah, my apologies. We do export olives as well." She continued on the crops that were grown about Winton. Olive, grapes, anything that could be grown successfully so close to the coast.

It was right when they were getting ready to leave when a thread of sorts tapped against Sybl's mind "I do not suppose you would be able to slip away, Prince Syble? I am hardly in the mood to deal with that pompous, cruel bitch of a Queen and I believe one of her little psychopaths already saw me on the beach." The cool tone of Saetan slide against his mental walls, yet there was a weariness to that tone. "Laska was such a lovely darling, but I don't think I'd do well being shaved."

The Prince's Royal Guard

Zatana gave Balthazar a long, steady look as he answered her questions with an answer that spoke to what she suspected would be the case. Wizards, after all, were so very much the same when you got down to the bones of the debate. "So be it." The woman replied as Faira turned away to fetch the horse she rode. Turning as well, she put the problem of Balthazar and his wizarding ways to the side. They had no place in her current mission until they became relevant again. Now her mind turned to the mission at hand, learning information on the enemy and picking up a parcel from a contact within a besieged city. Walking quickly she gave a fluttering whistle, calling the dark mare that she had come into the Prince's service on. While not a warhorse, the mare was surefooted and fast with a temper as wicked as any Dark Elf matriarch. Traits that were far better than brute strength.

Gripping the saddle as the horse moved by, Zatana stepped into a stirrup and swung into the saddle. With the siege so close, there had been no reason not to saddle the mare as soon as the woman had gotten herself about. Turning the horse towards the road she joined with Faira and her Steak, the name of the horse confounded Zatana. Names were well and good, but they carried a potential attachment, and that wasn't something to give an animal you might need to kill one day. Which might come soon, Zatana thought with annoyance as the mare pinned her ears back and tried to sneak a sharp bite at the other horse. Gripping the reins tighter as she corrected the horse and sent the wicked beast into a plunging gallop, Zatana thought of Fiara's question.

"Running is well and good, but you cannot run through an army." The woman pointed out in her soft voice, raising it to be heard over the horses. "We will have more information when we reach the city. Though if there is an army, I might be able to slip through their ranks. Might. They might also decide they do not like that and try to kill me." Though Faira couldn't see, Zatana had a soft smile. Something she let show in her voice at least, the idea was that she was trustworthy after all."You are faster so perhaps you could slip in and out to the gate better than myself. But what of trying to find the beggar?" That was an added point of the problem. They didn't know exactly what they were looking for and they were on a time limit. "Only one, I think, should go into the city. The other one should report back, or wait to see if the parcel can be retrieved. That runs the risk of death, capture, or waiting within a city."

The Prince's Royal Guard

Zatana had just been about to dip a nod to the Prince when her head whipped about to peer in the direction of Bergkoff as a boom shook the ground. It would be far louder near the city, one of the few irritations the drow had with the dwarven technologic advances. In her profession, noise was kept to a minimum and her grandfather often noted that loud sound showed how uncivilized someone was. A statement that thus far rang true as far as Zatana could see. But there was little time for introspection as Leonidas barked several orders, though the ones concerning her was all she needed Zatana did hold an extra second to hear the rest of the battle plan. Knowledge was key to all things in life after all.

It was just as well she had held back as the robed form of the thorn in her side spoke. She had noted Balthazar's approach but pointedly pretended she had not. Zatana was not blind to the dangers the old wizard represented to her. He was often elbows deep in paper and one of the so very few that knew what she was. If he wasn't so competent and she so in need to stay where she was, she would have slipped out of town to fish in a different harbor so to speak. Zatana watched him detail out a plan with a grim smile. That was the problem with this wizard. He was so very dangerous because of the things he knew. If she had the ability and circumstance would she dispatch him? Would he do such to her in turn? Her eyes were flint as the wizard outlined his plan to her and Faira, a good plan to be sure.

Reaching out to pluck the wooden token from Balthazar, Zatana let her dark eyes soften to a wicked delight, letting the thrill of being able to do something show. Let wizard make of it what he would. Emotions that were shown was only another part of the grand game she had been born to. "Within the city, at the West Gate, contact with parcel." Her soft voice was the exact opposite of dangerous as she smiled behind the mask while she repeated the key pieces of information. For a chance to clarification and to make sure she would remember it herself. "Not a difficult task, though any information you might add on this contact? Flashing a token about a city under siege... Those as do not know its significance would find it a distraction. Impeding ourselves and their own efforts." It was not unreasonable and clarification in a city that would be fighting a coming siege would be useful. "It is reasonable to ask, is it not?" She asked in a conversational tone as she slipped the token into the breastplate of her leather armor where a pouch was for small trinkets. Zatana was curious if he would give more information, or if he was using this as a test to feel her out. It wouldn't be the first time nor would it be the last someone had tried to do so. The other option was that he sprung from the same cloth as Murdoc, she was going to be expected to figure it out, and getting the answer wrong would have all the consequences fall on her head.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876Your good, no need to worry about it. You can unload it without a problem.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Soldiers seemed to enjoy complaining and gambling in equal measure. Or so thought Zatana Aleana as she moved along the edge of the camp, her dark and worn cloak sweeping along the dew studded ground that warned ice and winter snows would soon take hold. Adjusting the slight mask of rough fabric to fit over her nose a bit more comfortably, Zatana watched as a few of the men who did notice her look pointedly away. They were wary of the strange woman who was a wraith amongst the trees, and she could only bring herself to be amused by the thought. Checking her gloves were on tight, she knew why they worried. What woman wrapped herself up in so many layers as if the sun's touch would be poison to her? Even those who looked under the hood and saw her black eyes would see the dark lining of kohl that rimmed them. The shading of ashy grey makeup that disguised even her skin. Alas, it was hardly makeup but her actual skin, not that Zatana wanted them to know that!

Seeing a slight commotion she was drawn from the path she had been walking to inquire as to the source. The battle-loving, Acrius was just having a tussle with two soldiers, and it seemed they were the ones worse of wear as the mud-spattered men passed her and deeper into the camp. Her lips twitched under the mask, had they really thought they could best the young man? From what she had found out over the last month Acrius had bested in the arena to join the Prince. Zatana dismissed the thought for the moment, while it was interesting it served no current purpose and she had more interest in making herself of use. Which was the crux of why she was heading to the now five people standing along the road, and she considered holding back a time.

The large grey form of Manald was intimidating and Zatana had little enough knowledge of beastmen culture and abilities that she was wary of the large man, and drawn to learn more. Her grandfather most likely knew, but in her hundred and twenty years Zatana had found little cause to remember the specifics of the race. The other two, aside from Acrius and the Prince, were human. One a trained soldier, the other was a tall women. Rudolph and Faira respectively. But the crux of why she was dressed so that her skin did not show was the impressive figure of the Prince to the Grand Empire of Man. Prince Leonidas Lionheart. She had saved him from an assassination attack and joined his guard in doing so. While that would be cause of celebration, Zatana sincerely doubted there would be welcoming cheers to find the Prince had been saved by a Dark Elf, 'Drow', who just happened to be very well trained at sneaking around and stabbing people. It wasn't that her people did not do that, they did. Her people- or rather her grandfather- had exacting opinions on whom to stab where and when that person should be stabbed, if they should be stabbed at all. There were other ways to deal with someone that were far more tasteful. Still, that reputation went before her. For the sake of sanity, and not incitng a mob of angry nobles and commoners alike, Zatana chose to hide what she was. Allowing tales of vicious scars and deformities to float about. There was one rumor that even suspected she was a ghost!

Stepping up behind the group, she spoke in a soft and oddly young voice. While her age could be counted beyond the age most humans would call 'old', in truth she was still soft-featured and fair. Elven advantages. "Perhaps, Your Highness, I should go ahead of the company and see the state of Bergkoff. If the fighting is finished, or not yet started, the information would be valuable, yes?" There was a slight accent to her words, a few of the 'r's finding themselves rolled.

The Prince's Royal Guard

My Hider

Name: Zatana Aleana
Race: Drow
Gender: Female
Age: 120
Appearance:

My Hider

Zatana stands at a fairly average height, her form being well-muscled from the climbing and acrobatics that are part of her vocation. Wiry and flexible, but there is the hard muscle of someone having to fight for survival. With high cheekbones and delicate features, she keeps her long pale hair pinned to the back of her head in a braid to use in combination with her charms when it is needed. But that is if she allows anyone to see the ashy grey skin or get so close to determine her eyes are truly black. Keeping herself wrapped in leather armor head to toe and helped by a ragged cloak of dark material when she can be a bit more relaxed. When she does not feel the need to reveal herself, any possibility of showing skin or hair is wrapped in bandages.

Bio: Her grandfather, Murdoc Do'ana, was the reason her life became even possible. A mage who tested the idea of what was possible and not, he was held in high regard in the Drowish side of the Dread Coast, though he is well known. Sly, kind, cunning and all too aware of just how to manipulate others. He does have an odd sense of justice that is strangely hard to argue against. Her mother had no want or desire to raise a child and Zatana's father only mentioned her existence to his father, Murdoc, in passing years after her birth. In all essentiality, Zartana makes no bones that her grandfather paid her mother to relinquish her claim and give the grandchild over. It happened, life moved on and at the tender age of seven, Zartana began studying the ways of shadows and secrets, and not just how to pick a pocket.

She was her grandfather's left hand, the sleight of hand he needed to pass messages and arrange things and listen at street corners. She transcribed his notes later on and helped him with his experiments, learning how to draw secrets from people from talking or force. Zatana loved the mage, adored him. Finding out about a plot to kill her beloved grandfather, Zatana acted without hesitation. Killing the two assassins, using the knowledge of the body she gained studying under Murdoc.

Now with a bodyguard as well as an assistant. Murdoc found himself rather pleased with the turn of events. If only for his own ends and his experiments being able to continue without interruption by the petty games his rivals played. He used his granddaughter's skill with the blade and honed it. Refusing any imperfection. Yet, he was a man who was rarely ever content. But Murdoc Do'ana was dissatisfied with the news he got from outside the Dread Coast and having the perfect person to be his eyes, he sent Zatana. Traveling for years, she finally moved to intercept an assassin her own grandfather had sent after the Prince and joined the guard.

Then again, that was exactly as her grandfather had planned and ordered.

Personality quirks:
Traits: - Loyalty is everything to her, just as her business at gathering intel and carrying out her job. And her race makes that harder, as well as a love for cute things.
Ideal - "I must survive and pay the debt of life I owe."

Bond: Murdoc Do'ana; Her grandfather and the one she came to the Empire under the orders of. He raised, trained and set her out into the world. If he asks anything of her? How could she refuse?
- Relon Vaugh; The lover of the assassin she killed to join the Prince's Guard.

Flaw: Divided loyalties and she finds herself rather obsessed with perfection in what she does. Itchy fingers that like to slip away items.

Fighting Style: She uses daggers as if she was born to them. The throwing, and stabbing kind. Zatana is decent with a bow, taking it up to get a range as getting close to the enemy is not a good idea if she isn't getting the drop on them.

Equipment: She wears hardened leather armor, along with a cloak or cloth to hide her skin. She has ten daggers on her. Two in each armpit, wrist, boot, and each side of the waist as well as one on the back of the neck and one behind her back. The daggers at her waist and behind her back are heavy fighting daggers, while the one in her boots are stilettos. She has a bow and a full quiver of arrows varying from barbed headed to sleeker arrows. The last item is a small book carefully hidden usually under her armor, Zatana's Grimoire. Filled more with notes on the Empire in her meandering code than of spells.

Skills/Abilities:
Shadow Step - The ability to disappear into shadow, blending in and being hard to see.
Poison: A good understanding of poisons and applying them to her weapons.
Experienced thief/Spy- Skilled at eavesdropping, slight of hand, picking pockets, lockpicking.
Assassin: Understanding the art of killing people by stabbing them from behind.
Forgery: She can forge notes, or quickly transcribe information.

Other Information:

My Hider

1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it.
2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules
3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC
4. Be civilized and polite please
5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed.
6. The story isn't exactly set, if you have an idea for a mission feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in.
7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them.
8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts.
9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC