It's technology... although perhaps not as smart as what we'd like it to be, unfortunately.
At least it gives me, as the GM, plenty of time to set up all the little nooks and crannies for our upcoming little crime epoch. Though I'm not sure how much support we can rely on from Serphia's warband in our forensic search.
I don't think it's within their field of qualifications.
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Aye, and so morning has come.
Just adding that Sherpa & Sharon aren't necessarily on the same timeline. I believe Sherpa might have more reasons to be tired than Sharon ;)
Just adding that Sherpa & Sharon aren't necessarily on the same timeline. I believe Sherpa might have more reasons to be tired than Sharon ;)
"Waaakie... "
Sherpa opened his eyes to the voice of Rithrynn from up above, his eyes quickly finding the Night Elf sleeping on top of him.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart." He smiled handsomely back up at her, before his eyes passed over to the bronze clock hanging and ticking on the wall between the windows. The clock showed 11:23 AM, and the High Elf let out a sigh. He had planned to get up earlier, but it seemed as if his little play with Rithrynn had drained him of more energy than he had anticipated.
The Night Elf, on the other hand, at least seemed rather pleased by the whole ordeal.
Rising up, Sherpa reached for his white shirt as he looked over to Rithrynn.
"It's a busy day today, and I don't think I can stay for long. Can I tempt you enough to stay for breakfast, or will you have to leave at once?"
Back in Sharon's mansion, Sharon appeared on the balcony above the atrium. The High Elf was wearing a darker colored silk bathrobe with turquoise fauna embroidery adorning it.
He gazed down over the railing towards the front door, as though he was looking for something. But alas, the elf didn't seem to spot anything of signifiance or interest down on the first level, other than a pair of slumbering Night Elves; one halfway hiding under a curtain, the other one sleeping up-side-down on an a wide leather chair by the entrance, with her butt in the air and wearing nothing but an undersized thong.
Continuing to scan the room, Sharon suddenly spotted a black coated and white haired butler walking along, masterfully balancing a large plate of empty plates and goblets in one hand while supporting himself on his cane.
Yet despite the speed at which Sharon had detected Fredrick, the butler had become aware of his presence first, and turned his head around to look up at Sharon.
"Good morning, Master Sharon. Had a good night rest, I hope?" Friedrick asked courtly, taking a short pause in his walk to the kitchen and miss Collins.
"Hm, yes... " Sharon answered, though seemed slightly unfocused as he continued to look around.
"You haven't by any chance seen Liaena, have you?"
"Not since yesturday, Master Sharon, when she left the house in the dark of night on another one of her secret missions. Goodness only knows when she will be back."
"Just what I hoped to hear... " Sharon replied as the elf rolled his eyes, while drumming his fingers on the dark oak banister.
Friedrick's report seemed plausible enough, given what Sharon knew of Liaena. Not to mention that he had never once suspected the man of ever lying to him. Liaena had a sense of adventure after all that only seemed to increase the more dangerous her surroundings became.
"I really hope she hasn't gotten herself into trouble this time.... even though she probably has. Well then, I just hope she's still alive at the very least."
Sherpa opened his eyes to the voice of Rithrynn from up above, his eyes quickly finding the Night Elf sleeping on top of him.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart." He smiled handsomely back up at her, before his eyes passed over to the bronze clock hanging and ticking on the wall between the windows. The clock showed 11:23 AM, and the High Elf let out a sigh. He had planned to get up earlier, but it seemed as if his little play with Rithrynn had drained him of more energy than he had anticipated.
The Night Elf, on the other hand, at least seemed rather pleased by the whole ordeal.
Rising up, Sherpa reached for his white shirt as he looked over to Rithrynn.
"It's a busy day today, and I don't think I can stay for long. Can I tempt you enough to stay for breakfast, or will you have to leave at once?"
Back in Sharon's mansion, Sharon appeared on the balcony above the atrium. The High Elf was wearing a darker colored silk bathrobe with turquoise fauna embroidery adorning it.
He gazed down over the railing towards the front door, as though he was looking for something. But alas, the elf didn't seem to spot anything of signifiance or interest down on the first level, other than a pair of slumbering Night Elves; one halfway hiding under a curtain, the other one sleeping up-side-down on an a wide leather chair by the entrance, with her butt in the air and wearing nothing but an undersized thong.
Continuing to scan the room, Sharon suddenly spotted a black coated and white haired butler walking along, masterfully balancing a large plate of empty plates and goblets in one hand while supporting himself on his cane.
Yet despite the speed at which Sharon had detected Fredrick, the butler had become aware of his presence first, and turned his head around to look up at Sharon.
"Good morning, Master Sharon. Had a good night rest, I hope?" Friedrick asked courtly, taking a short pause in his walk to the kitchen and miss Collins.
"Hm, yes... " Sharon answered, though seemed slightly unfocused as he continued to look around.
"You haven't by any chance seen Liaena, have you?"
"Not since yesturday, Master Sharon, when she left the house in the dark of night on another one of her secret missions. Goodness only knows when she will be back."
"Just what I hoped to hear... " Sharon replied as the elf rolled his eyes, while drumming his fingers on the dark oak banister.
Friedrick's report seemed plausible enough, given what Sharon knew of Liaena. Not to mention that he had never once suspected the man of ever lying to him. Liaena had a sense of adventure after all that only seemed to increase the more dangerous her surroundings became.
"I really hope she hasn't gotten herself into trouble this time.... even though she probably has. Well then, I just hope she's still alive at the very least."
Who knows?
Maybe she has entered some kind of state of cerebral hibernation in order to survive?
Or is just writing the continuation between Rithrynn and Sherpa's little private play in secret?
Maybe she has entered some kind of state of cerebral hibernation in order to survive?
Or is just writing the continuation between Rithrynn and Sherpa's little private play in secret?
"Yes, she told me that already." Donald said with a small smile on his face.
"It's good to know that she is still watching my back - as I am hers. It's a precious and invaluable thing in a profession where nothing is otherwise true and everything is permitted."
Donald explained. Although he loved Astrid, the more professional part of him had always carried the smallest of inkling that Astrid might one day decide to betray him; a story that unfortunately had tragically been retold too many times among the villains of Stormwind. He had met enough people, and even had colleagues who were as emotionless and soulless as even the most depraved minion of the Scourge; only differentiated by the fact that their skin wasn't rotting and their blood was still warm.
"You have my word that we will not interfere with you again. I will make sure to tell my lovely colleague about it. As long as I'm safe and in one piece, she will let it go."
Donald took a couple of steps across the table, in the direction of the main door; when the assassin suddenly stopped, as though he had forgotten something that he just remembered.
"Ohh, yes; by the way." Donald said as he turned around and looked back up at Liaena.
"Since I am not too keen on having to battle every cat I come across in the city; an experience that would surely become more epic than it'd normally been what with me in my current state; if you could revert this shrink spell on us, it would be great. If you are worried that we will turn our blades on you, then you can also call your Vanguard friends to be sure."
"It's good to know that she is still watching my back - as I am hers. It's a precious and invaluable thing in a profession where nothing is otherwise true and everything is permitted."
Donald explained. Although he loved Astrid, the more professional part of him had always carried the smallest of inkling that Astrid might one day decide to betray him; a story that unfortunately had tragically been retold too many times among the villains of Stormwind. He had met enough people, and even had colleagues who were as emotionless and soulless as even the most depraved minion of the Scourge; only differentiated by the fact that their skin wasn't rotting and their blood was still warm.
"You have my word that we will not interfere with you again. I will make sure to tell my lovely colleague about it. As long as I'm safe and in one piece, she will let it go."
Donald took a couple of steps across the table, in the direction of the main door; when the assassin suddenly stopped, as though he had forgotten something that he just remembered.
"Ohh, yes; by the way." Donald said as he turned around and looked back up at Liaena.
"Since I am not too keen on having to battle every cat I come across in the city; an experience that would surely become more epic than it'd normally been what with me in my current state; if you could revert this shrink spell on us, it would be great. If you are worried that we will turn our blades on you, then you can also call your Vanguard friends to be sure."
“Although she probably wishes she wasn’t”
"Understandable. Few dungeons are really any comfortable, whatever one she is in. Though she has a real knack for getting through locked doors." Donald smirked. The assassin had seen his fair share of dungeons, even a few times been stuck in one. Stormwind was a city that did not spend much money on the welfare of their criminals, although it was more than could be said for other cultures. Still, the man couldn't help but notice the slightly sinister tone to Liaena's rather few words on the subject of Esmeralda.
However, upon Liaena's question whether Esmeralda was his boss, Donald found himself unable to restrain himself as he let out a soft laughter at the idea.
"My boss is a man who goes by the nickname of 'Steel Snake', though his name is Arnoff. He did not participate personally, however. Esmeralda was more of a team leader in the whole project, as Arnoff was searching for someone who could fill his role in the field. He is becoming an old man now, and this profession does not take kindly to their kind. Though she has a few skills here and there, Esmeralda was never capable of running a gang." The assassin explained with a soft smile, using his arms as he talked.
"And if you are wondering where my old tutor might be, then he is either dead or gone to ground."
Donald lowered his arms as he finished talking, but when he noticed the slightly confused furrow of Liaena's brows at his last sentence, he opened his mouth again.
"Ahhh well, the reason being that if this Sherpa fellow tried to kill me, he might be doing what we in the business like to call a 'purging'. Killing off and eliminating all hired associates and related material and evidence, making a clean slate. And that would make Arnoff one of the targets." Folding his fingers together, Donald moved his eyes away from Liaena to study the room before continuing to talk.
"It would appear that this Sherpa is not very appreciative of botched assassination attempts, to put it lightly. If he considered us expendable before, then I don't think his attitude towards us has improved much since then...."
"Understandable. Few dungeons are really any comfortable, whatever one she is in. Though she has a real knack for getting through locked doors." Donald smirked. The assassin had seen his fair share of dungeons, even a few times been stuck in one. Stormwind was a city that did not spend much money on the welfare of their criminals, although it was more than could be said for other cultures. Still, the man couldn't help but notice the slightly sinister tone to Liaena's rather few words on the subject of Esmeralda.
However, upon Liaena's question whether Esmeralda was his boss, Donald found himself unable to restrain himself as he let out a soft laughter at the idea.
"My boss is a man who goes by the nickname of 'Steel Snake', though his name is Arnoff. He did not participate personally, however. Esmeralda was more of a team leader in the whole project, as Arnoff was searching for someone who could fill his role in the field. He is becoming an old man now, and this profession does not take kindly to their kind. Though she has a few skills here and there, Esmeralda was never capable of running a gang." The assassin explained with a soft smile, using his arms as he talked.
"And if you are wondering where my old tutor might be, then he is either dead or gone to ground."
Donald lowered his arms as he finished talking, but when he noticed the slightly confused furrow of Liaena's brows at his last sentence, he opened his mouth again.
"Ahhh well, the reason being that if this Sherpa fellow tried to kill me, he might be doing what we in the business like to call a 'purging'. Killing off and eliminating all hired associates and related material and evidence, making a clean slate. And that would make Arnoff one of the targets." Folding his fingers together, Donald moved his eyes away from Liaena to study the room before continuing to talk.
"It would appear that this Sherpa is not very appreciative of botched assassination attempts, to put it lightly. If he considered us expendable before, then I don't think his attitude towards us has improved much since then...."
"Where is Sherpa staying? Where did you normally meet him?”
"I do not know where your friend lives, whether it be a house, hotel or even a giant underground castle." Donald explained as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I only saw him in person at predetermined meeting spots and rendezvous points, such as the bar... which you trashed."
Donald scoffed, before smiling.
" ... not that I ever miss that place. It was a run down mess anyhow and little more than firewood, if even could be used for that without poisoning the entire neighborhood."
Taking a few steps to the side, the rogue casually leaned against one of the empty beer bottles and tankards littering Doin's table, folding his hands as he gazed back up at Liaena. Though his face seemed calm, his gaze was still sharp the way it tracked Liaena.
"But since I like you, I'll tell you another thing: I do not think that he resides in the Trade District, despite his... or at least his official occupation; as a merchant. He always comes from north and north west. Although I've never followed him to any of the districts, the two most likely districts are the Dwarven District and the Cathedral District. And, since he is a rather proper fellow and his clothes are too clean for the grease and sot filled streets of the Dwarven District, I would wager that your friend is staying somewhere in the Cathedral District, among the pious and wealthy, but mostly just the wealthy."
At the question about Esmeralda, Donald's eyes lighted slightly up as the mini assassin chuckled a little bit to himself.
"Oh yes, she was our 'Great Leader' and official 'Know-it-all'. An aspiring disciple and adherent of the shadowy crafts and mystic. She was an eager girl who was full of grand ideas and plans that, unfortunately, were doomed from the start. And of course we were assigned to her... " Donald made a melodramatic frown at the end of the sentence, before he resumed a more natural look again as he peeked up at Liaena.
"From what I hear, I am to direct my gratitude for removing her to you and your allies? How is she anyway?"
"I do not know where your friend lives, whether it be a house, hotel or even a giant underground castle." Donald explained as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I only saw him in person at predetermined meeting spots and rendezvous points, such as the bar... which you trashed."
Donald scoffed, before smiling.
" ... not that I ever miss that place. It was a run down mess anyhow and little more than firewood, if even could be used for that without poisoning the entire neighborhood."
Taking a few steps to the side, the rogue casually leaned against one of the empty beer bottles and tankards littering Doin's table, folding his hands as he gazed back up at Liaena. Though his face seemed calm, his gaze was still sharp the way it tracked Liaena.
"But since I like you, I'll tell you another thing: I do not think that he resides in the Trade District, despite his... or at least his official occupation; as a merchant. He always comes from north and north west. Although I've never followed him to any of the districts, the two most likely districts are the Dwarven District and the Cathedral District. And, since he is a rather proper fellow and his clothes are too clean for the grease and sot filled streets of the Dwarven District, I would wager that your friend is staying somewhere in the Cathedral District, among the pious and wealthy, but mostly just the wealthy."
At the question about Esmeralda, Donald's eyes lighted slightly up as the mini assassin chuckled a little bit to himself.
"Oh yes, she was our 'Great Leader' and official 'Know-it-all'. An aspiring disciple and adherent of the shadowy crafts and mystic. She was an eager girl who was full of grand ideas and plans that, unfortunately, were doomed from the start. And of course we were assigned to her... " Donald made a melodramatic frown at the end of the sentence, before he resumed a more natural look again as he peeked up at Liaena.
"From what I hear, I am to direct my gratitude for removing her to you and your allies? How is she anyway?"
Double post.
“Hired to do what, exactly? Kill Sharon? Is that it?”
"Indeed. Quite frankly, it was a really simple task really. We weren't given many specific rules as to how it should have been done. Just to see it through... oh, and we were encouraged to set the house on fire once we were done. No hard feelings intended."
At Liaena's last question, the girl leaned forward over the assassin; to the point the assassin instinctively took a subtle step back as if he was afraid she'd accidentally fall on him at any moment.
"You seem to know this 'Sherpa' far more than I do. I did not even know him by that nickname until you used it." Donald explained, holding his right hand up as he explained.
"In the business, it is often the norm to give as little information as possible. Needless curiosity is often frowned upon by our clients, and thus we only ask for the information required to get the job done. This is a precautionary measure from the client's side to reduce potential harm done in case the handler; which in this case would include me, the hired blade; is caught and interrogated, or were to switch sides."
Donald spoke in a calm and organized manner, albeit with the occasional case of glibness in his voice.
"My only knowledge about this Sherpa is that he often surrounds himself with merchants in the maritime trade, and some gentlemen from the new White Hand outfit; whom I might say are as well mannered as they are devious. They get my admiration there." Donald paused, seemingly thinking a bit.
"Ohh, and the fact that he has magical powers of some sort, which I was not prepared for when he intercepted me. I am no mage, let alone a student of the mystical arcane or believe me, it'd been a part of my romance strategies; but I'd say that it is may have been kinetic, or some invisible force that he used against me. Maybe it was ghosts as you said? But I saw nothing but him."
Smiling, Donald gazed up at Liaena, his head slightly tilted to the side.
"Now as I have answered your questions, my lady, will you let us go?" He asked, holding out his arms.
"Do not worry about thoughts of vengeance. I have had enough of Stormwind as it is, and wish to travel to the tropical warmth of the Southseas. It would probably be best until you have dealt with this 'Sherpa' fellow of yours. Oh, and when you get to him; do send him my regards. Hopefully it will hit a nerve."
"Indeed. Quite frankly, it was a really simple task really. We weren't given many specific rules as to how it should have been done. Just to see it through... oh, and we were encouraged to set the house on fire once we were done. No hard feelings intended."
At Liaena's last question, the girl leaned forward over the assassin; to the point the assassin instinctively took a subtle step back as if he was afraid she'd accidentally fall on him at any moment.
"You seem to know this 'Sherpa' far more than I do. I did not even know him by that nickname until you used it." Donald explained, holding his right hand up as he explained.
"In the business, it is often the norm to give as little information as possible. Needless curiosity is often frowned upon by our clients, and thus we only ask for the information required to get the job done. This is a precautionary measure from the client's side to reduce potential harm done in case the handler; which in this case would include me, the hired blade; is caught and interrogated, or were to switch sides."
Donald spoke in a calm and organized manner, albeit with the occasional case of glibness in his voice.
"My only knowledge about this Sherpa is that he often surrounds himself with merchants in the maritime trade, and some gentlemen from the new White Hand outfit; whom I might say are as well mannered as they are devious. They get my admiration there." Donald paused, seemingly thinking a bit.
"Ohh, and the fact that he has magical powers of some sort, which I was not prepared for when he intercepted me. I am no mage, let alone a student of the mystical arcane or believe me, it'd been a part of my romance strategies; but I'd say that it is may have been kinetic, or some invisible force that he used against me. Maybe it was ghosts as you said? But I saw nothing but him."
Smiling, Donald gazed up at Liaena, his head slightly tilted to the side.
"Now as I have answered your questions, my lady, will you let us go?" He asked, holding out his arms.
"Do not worry about thoughts of vengeance. I have had enough of Stormwind as it is, and wish to travel to the tropical warmth of the Southseas. It would probably be best until you have dealt with this 'Sherpa' fellow of yours. Oh, and when you get to him; do send him my regards. Hopefully it will hit a nerve."
"It is not as much of a grudge as it is more of a precautionary measure. Some people are willing to kill to hide their agenda, and I have little interest in dying for someone's personal interests." Donald answered Liaena's assertion about him keeping grudges with a small smile.
"He tried once. What's stopping him from finishing his job sometime in the future?"
Although Donald's dealings were done with the High Elf, he doubted the High Elf was done with him for as long as he lived. It was not the first time someone had tried to kill their hired blades to hide the truth of their own plots, and it would certainly not be the last time either. Through his career, Donald had met with all sorts of people, including nobles and rich men. No matter how pretty their cloth, their intentions were seldom any more noble than that of a common street thug.
"A ghost?" Donald asked, slightly raising his one eyebrow as he looked up at Liaena; seemingly a little surprised. The assassin raised a finger up to his chin, as he seemed to be searching through his memory.
"I know the assassin you speak of, even though I never saw his face, he smelled like a corpse anyway. But the ghost you mentioned... I don't think I ever saw anything like that. That is not to say though that I have no idea what attacked me when Silverlion intercepted me. Something invisible, it tossed me around like a ragdoll... "
Donald paused for a moment, looking to the side before his gaze returned to Liaena.
"Oh yes, his last name was Silverlion. A Sherraine Silverlion, or something like that, weird elven first name. A merchant who's a wannabe lord, supposedly having a history with the noble Greymoon as well as some ties to the Scourge. He hired me through a friend of mine, for whom me and my... well, I wouldn't call them teammates but they were supposed to be a team nonetheless. I'm sure you've met them all by now."
"He tried once. What's stopping him from finishing his job sometime in the future?"
Although Donald's dealings were done with the High Elf, he doubted the High Elf was done with him for as long as he lived. It was not the first time someone had tried to kill their hired blades to hide the truth of their own plots, and it would certainly not be the last time either. Through his career, Donald had met with all sorts of people, including nobles and rich men. No matter how pretty their cloth, their intentions were seldom any more noble than that of a common street thug.
"A ghost?" Donald asked, slightly raising his one eyebrow as he looked up at Liaena; seemingly a little surprised. The assassin raised a finger up to his chin, as he seemed to be searching through his memory.
"I know the assassin you speak of, even though I never saw his face, he smelled like a corpse anyway. But the ghost you mentioned... I don't think I ever saw anything like that. That is not to say though that I have no idea what attacked me when Silverlion intercepted me. Something invisible, it tossed me around like a ragdoll... "
Donald paused for a moment, looking to the side before his gaze returned to Liaena.
"Oh yes, his last name was Silverlion. A Sherraine Silverlion, or something like that, weird elven first name. A merchant who's a wannabe lord, supposedly having a history with the noble Greymoon as well as some ties to the Scourge. He hired me through a friend of mine, for whom me and my... well, I wouldn't call them teammates but they were supposed to be a team nonetheless. I'm sure you've met them all by now."
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