Hawk looked at Solomon and held up his glass. "This brandy is worth about as much as everything you've been paid thus far in my service, and you know how generous I am. If I wasn't, you'd be in a considerably different position, you know, with both hands across your chest and your eyes closed. "
"As for Cora, don't disregard her. I've trained her well, and she has a not inconsiderable talent of her own. You'd be wise to listen to what she has to say in the future. That being said, she's nowhere near ready to take my job. I'm still the best at what I do. Anyway, I'll tell you why you're here the same time as I tell everyone else, so be a good little murderer and sit tight until everyone is present and accounted for."
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Gregory Hawk walked though the early morning fog of the capital streets. He had never taken his current route before, but then, he never took the same route to anywhere twice, it made you hard to ambush. In any case, Hawk was confident that he could handle most anything likely to happen on his way to the safehouse. This was proven correct when he was accosted by a couple of young thugs while taking a shortcut though an ally. He strode out a few minutes later with a small bloodstain on his coat, which while irritating, wasn't a real problem. It wasn't his blood, after all.
The rest of the walk went without incident and when he got to his destination he stopped for a moment, taking in the battered facade of the building. He rather liked this one, a shame it would have to be destroyed within the next couple months, but a new place would be found, made suitable for it's purpose, and used for a while until it too was demolished. That was the thing about secret hideouts, if you left them in the same place for too long, some drunk bastard was libel to mistake the place for abandoned and try to move in, and then he had to be either bribed or silenced, and either way you still couldn't keep using the place. No, it was better this way, a bit more costly perhaps, but being spymaster had the perk of an almost unlimited budget. Sometimes Hawk liked to imagine the look on the kings accountant's faces if they were to see some of the stranger expenses that been seen to under his command.
Hawk entered the house via a door in the rear that only he knew about, walked to the kitchen and after pressing an unexceptional tile in the wall, opened up a cabinet built to his precise specifications. Inside was an aged looking bottle and a glass. He took both and walked into the main room. In one corner, a rope hung from the ceiling. He pulled it, and grinned as a series of bells went rang in the sleeping rooms, designed to be as loud and annoying as possible.
"That ought to get their attention." He thought as he opened the bottle and poured himself a glass of some of the finest, and most expensive brandy that could be found in the kingdom. Being a spymaster was a difficult, bloody, and for the most part thankless task. There was no lordship or lands that came with it, several of his predecessors had been killed while doing the job, one or two had been hanged for treason. Even the king thought he was mad for doing the job. But he did it for one reason that trumped all the downsides:
He was damned good at it.
And as he sat back in a chair and sipped his drink, and heard the groaning of the recently awakened he grinned again. For all the shit that came with it, there were times when he loved his job.
The rest of the walk went without incident and when he got to his destination he stopped for a moment, taking in the battered facade of the building. He rather liked this one, a shame it would have to be destroyed within the next couple months, but a new place would be found, made suitable for it's purpose, and used for a while until it too was demolished. That was the thing about secret hideouts, if you left them in the same place for too long, some drunk bastard was libel to mistake the place for abandoned and try to move in, and then he had to be either bribed or silenced, and either way you still couldn't keep using the place. No, it was better this way, a bit more costly perhaps, but being spymaster had the perk of an almost unlimited budget. Sometimes Hawk liked to imagine the look on the kings accountant's faces if they were to see some of the stranger expenses that been seen to under his command.
Hawk entered the house via a door in the rear that only he knew about, walked to the kitchen and after pressing an unexceptional tile in the wall, opened up a cabinet built to his precise specifications. Inside was an aged looking bottle and a glass. He took both and walked into the main room. In one corner, a rope hung from the ceiling. He pulled it, and grinned as a series of bells went rang in the sleeping rooms, designed to be as loud and annoying as possible.
"That ought to get their attention." He thought as he opened the bottle and poured himself a glass of some of the finest, and most expensive brandy that could be found in the kingdom. Being a spymaster was a difficult, bloody, and for the most part thankless task. There was no lordship or lands that came with it, several of his predecessors had been killed while doing the job, one or two had been hanged for treason. Even the king thought he was mad for doing the job. But he did it for one reason that trumped all the downsides:
He was damned good at it.
And as he sat back in a chair and sipped his drink, and heard the groaning of the recently awakened he grinned again. For all the shit that came with it, there were times when he loved his job.
Very sorry to keep you guys hanging, some unexpected things came up. Anyway, working on the mission briefing post right now, should be up tonight or early tomorrow at the latest.
I actually have read the night angel books, but I rather agree with schradinger. A little subtlety will go a long way in this RP.
Heh, the ongoing thing about Solomon carrying so much gear reminds me of this bit concerning an assassin from one of Terry Pratchett's books:
“He sighed and opened the black box and took out his rings and slipped them on. Another box held a set of knives and Klatchian steel, their blades darkened with lamp black. Various cunning and intricate devices were taken from velvet bags and dropped into pockets. A couple of long-bladed throwing tlingas were slipped into their sheaths inside his boots. A thin silk line and folding grapnel were wound around his waist, over the chain-mail shirt. A blowpipe was attached to its leather thong and dropped down the back of his cloak; Teppic picked a slim tin container with an assortment of darts, their tips corked and their stems braille-coded for ease of selection in the dark.
He winced, checked the blade of his rapier and slung the baldric over his right shoulder, to balance the bag of lead slingshot ammunition. As an afterthought he opened his sock drawer and took a pistol crossbow, a flask of oil, a roll of lockpicks and, after some consideration, a punch dagger, a bag of assorted caltrops and a set of brass knuckles.
Teppic picked up his hat and checked it's lining for the coil of cheesewire. He placed it on his head at a jaunty angle, took a last satisfied look at himself in the mirror, turned on his heel and, very slowly, fell over.”
“He sighed and opened the black box and took out his rings and slipped them on. Another box held a set of knives and Klatchian steel, their blades darkened with lamp black. Various cunning and intricate devices were taken from velvet bags and dropped into pockets. A couple of long-bladed throwing tlingas were slipped into their sheaths inside his boots. A thin silk line and folding grapnel were wound around his waist, over the chain-mail shirt. A blowpipe was attached to its leather thong and dropped down the back of his cloak; Teppic picked a slim tin container with an assortment of darts, their tips corked and their stems braille-coded for ease of selection in the dark.
He winced, checked the blade of his rapier and slung the baldric over his right shoulder, to balance the bag of lead slingshot ammunition. As an afterthought he opened his sock drawer and took a pistol crossbow, a flask of oil, a roll of lockpicks and, after some consideration, a punch dagger, a bag of assorted caltrops and a set of brass knuckles.
Teppic picked up his hat and checked it's lining for the coil of cheesewire. He placed it on his head at a jaunty angle, took a last satisfied look at himself in the mirror, turned on his heel and, very slowly, fell over.”
As the parchment was brought close to the fire, a very strange thing began to happen. Rows of handwriting began to appear on the previously blank back side of the letter, very faint at first, but within a few seconds darkening to legibility.
The newly revealed text read thus:
Now you didn't think I'd leave all of you alone and without supervision did you? If you're reading this then my apprentice has done her job well kept an eye on you just as I instructed her to. Gathering data unseen and making observations are an integral part of the spymaster's craft, something I'm trying to teach her. What is not part of a spymaster's craft is the quip's I'm sure she made upon revealing this. Yes Cora that is something you need to learn.
In any case I'm sure you'll indulge me this little training exercise, especially seeing as by the time you'll be reading this you'll have had no choice in the matter.
I only have this else to say, I would suggest that you all get your sleep this night, because tomorrow I will be expecting your undivided attention for the mission briefing. You'll need to need to listen well because I won't have time to explain anything twice.
-Hawk
The newly revealed text read thus:
Now you didn't think I'd leave all of you alone and without supervision did you? If you're reading this then my apprentice has done her job well kept an eye on you just as I instructed her to. Gathering data unseen and making observations are an integral part of the spymaster's craft, something I'm trying to teach her. What is not part of a spymaster's craft is the quip's I'm sure she made upon revealing this. Yes Cora that is something you need to learn.
In any case I'm sure you'll indulge me this little training exercise, especially seeing as by the time you'll be reading this you'll have had no choice in the matter.
I only have this else to say, I would suggest that you all get your sleep this night, because tomorrow I will be expecting your undivided attention for the mission briefing. You'll need to need to listen well because I won't have time to explain anything twice.
-Hawk
(I'm posting as his character for now, until he gets back, as he suggested.)
Vestiago pondered Ilario's words for a moment. He held up a hand to wait, and walked into the larder. When he came back out, he was carrying an onion and a large knife, as well as a slab of granite used as a cutting board. He set the slab on one of the smaller tables in the room and set to dicing the onion. His huge hands held the knife with surprising delicacy, and he moved it with the skill of a master, in seconds the onion was minced more finely than even the head palace chef could manage.
After that was done, he brushed the chopped onion onto a platter then set the knife aside, and before anyone could blink, slammed his massive fist onto the table top. There was a sound of splintering wood as the table collapsed, also on the floor was the thick slab of polished granite, in pieces.
He said nothing, but looked pointedly at Ilario, before breaking into a broad smile.
Vestiago pondered Ilario's words for a moment. He held up a hand to wait, and walked into the larder. When he came back out, he was carrying an onion and a large knife, as well as a slab of granite used as a cutting board. He set the slab on one of the smaller tables in the room and set to dicing the onion. His huge hands held the knife with surprising delicacy, and he moved it with the skill of a master, in seconds the onion was minced more finely than even the head palace chef could manage.
After that was done, he brushed the chopped onion onto a platter then set the knife aside, and before anyone could blink, slammed his massive fist onto the table top. There was a sound of splintering wood as the table collapsed, also on the floor was the thick slab of polished granite, in pieces.
He said nothing, but looked pointedly at Ilario, before breaking into a broad smile.
Almeiden's AI partner registered the vibrations a split second before the quake hit. In that time, it managed to locate it's epicenter, and alert Almeiden to the the danger. Creating what he needed at the speed of thought, a dozens of small, grappling hook like spikes shot out of his armor and into the ground and surrounding trees, trailing lines of a silvery looking fiber. When the shockwave reached him, all of the lines grew taut and thrummed like guitar strings whilst absorbing the vibrations and dissipating them harmlessly.
He then retracted the lines back into his armor and focused on the origin of the quake, quickly locating the being who had propagated it. Almeiden then switched his armor into stealth mode, absorbing the vibrations of his movement, and the heat his body gave off, while simultaneously redirecting visible light spectrum and electromagnetic waves around him to render him invisible to sight and radar. Almeiden began moving slowly toward the strange being who gave off no life signs.
He then retracted the lines back into his armor and focused on the origin of the quake, quickly locating the being who had propagated it. Almeiden then switched his armor into stealth mode, absorbing the vibrations of his movement, and the heat his body gave off, while simultaneously redirecting visible light spectrum and electromagnetic waves around him to render him invisible to sight and radar. Almeiden began moving slowly toward the strange being who gave off no life signs.
Okay, we're still doing this? Great.
Right, well that's fine, but the story will be continuing whenever all the characters go to bed, or whenever the next day starts, if everyone else does that then it will be assumed your character has as well.
I'd also like to put it out there that unless there are circumstances that prevent it, like Hagura's camping trip, I'd like to see everyone try to post at least once a day, even if it is just a brief one. This will help move the story along, and help me be aware if somebody just decides to quit. And of course if anyone has any questions or suggestions about the story or setting, you are welcome to ask via the OC, or a private PM.
I'd also like to put it out there that unless there are circumstances that prevent it, like Hagura's camping trip, I'd like to see everyone try to post at least once a day, even if it is just a brief one. This will help move the story along, and help me be aware if somebody just decides to quit. And of course if anyone has any questions or suggestions about the story or setting, you are welcome to ask via the OC, or a private PM.
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