Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Aug 27, 2009 11:44:51 GMT -5
The hooded figure wanders into Tully Village, glancing up at the looming clock tower as she steps through the town gates. Slung over her shoulder and suspended along her back is an item of impressive length - over five feet, including the generous cloth wrapping. Probably a sword, or something.
Nobody bothers to approach her. After all, she seems to be much like any of the other guildsmen who come this way. Except, she isn't necessarily so. Let me tell you something about this particular stranger. That thing on her back? That's no sword. It's something that, when used properly and backed with the proper magic, can be... shall we say, a thousand times more dangerous.
It is a weapon manufactured in the distant west, at a price that would bankrupt any lesser guild that would have ordered it. An advanced class of the weapon type known as the 'gun'. Specifically, a gun designed to fire at distances beyond what a normal human would be able to see at sea level. Additionally, a gun designed to have its second bullet on the way before the first strikes its target, an important factor, especially when attempting to maintain the element of surprise, or rather, kill a target before he realizes you missed the first time.
What what kind of person would carry such a dangerous, and, many would say, 'cowardly', weapon? A person who harbors the intent to kill, naturally. Otherwise, she wouldn't be carrying such an efficient murderous tool around. And why is it then, that nobody tries to approach her? Because she takes efforts to remain inconspicuous.
Let me tell you something else. Somebody in this town... is next on her list of people to kill. Who is it, exactly? A man named Partridge. A seemingly ordinary man, who in fact, has done many horrible things yesterday, does them today, and will do them tomorrow. A member of a dark guild that has been going around doing contract killings, assassinations, 'hits'. The business of spilling blood. And this stranger is in this town, to give this man, Partridge, a taste of his own medicine.
But now you ask me... why do I know so much about what's happening? The answer is really simple. That stranger is me. I am Hilde Møller Knag, and I'll be your hostess for this little incursion. Have a seat, and enjoy the following events. And please don't blink either. You might miss the action.
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Post by Lucy Heartphilia on Aug 27, 2009 11:56:28 GMT -5
Alas, but this man, "Third Eye" Partridge, as it were, was prepared. No, more than prepared. He wasn't sitting still, waiting to taunt his opponent, like some Bond villain who had prepared for his victory, far to early. No, in fact, he was playing it smart.
He wasn't alone. And he wasn't sitting. Well, he was. Just not out in the open, or still. At this moment, he was the driver of a carriage, pulling into the city, forcing the few crowds, that accumulated at various shops and corners, to split and allow for the two-horse drawn carriage to pass. He was alone, seemingly. But in the cabin behind him, were not one, not two, but three higher ranking mages, from his Dark Guild, Orphen Blood.
And he too, was a high ranking mage, but he wasn't taking any risks. This current mission was far to important. He was the driver, of the money carriage, carrying a very rare magical artifact. It's name, was unknown, to him, but all he knew, was he needed to get to the next village, to deliver it. The horses wouldn't stop, without his words.
His entourage was for the mission. But it seemed, as he entered the village, that it was going to come in handy for more than just that. He didn't have eyes in the back of his head...
Or did he?
[0/5 posts to either assassinate the target, or steal his treasure. Or let him escape. Your success or failure is all up to you!]
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Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Aug 27, 2009 12:37:22 GMT -5
Now, according to the plan an associate of mine had "replicated" from Orphen Blood's stash, he would be just starting to pass through this part of town. Said associate of mine, is a very useful asset. In fact, this associate is a key member of Crimson Lotus' intelligence branch. We are a rather purpose-minded group. Not everybody is an assassin. You have spies, logisticians, communications experts, trainers... for a guild commanded by such an... eccentric... man as the one with the sunglasses, it's surprisingly well organized, almost to a military level, you can say. But enough about us.
I flipped open my pocket watch. Yes, just about now. I glanced up at the clock tower once again, before stepping inside and beginning to climb up the spiral staircase at a hurried pace. You might be thinking, "she's going to climb to the highest point and use it to her advantage". And you know what? You're right. That's exactly what I intend to do. But what exactly are the advantages that can be had from getting to the top of this tower?
Exhibit A: The height makes for a perfectly measured angle. As bullets normally travel in a parabolic trajectory that eventually takes it downward, it's rather complicated to do so much work yourself. When you don't have a spotter to do the job for you, it becomes even more difficult. Getting a relatively measurable angle such as this, makes it much easier to do it by yourself. I don't use a spotter unless absolutely necessary. This is not one of those times.
Exhibit B: the height of the tower gives me a perfect view of the town and the surrounding area. Given the intelligence that had been provided of me, I would know exactly which carriage the target is riding. Furthermore, even if I missed the first time, I would still be able to keep him in sight long enough to make the hit. And I never miss twice. That said, the sooner I get to the top, the longer I'll be able to keep that monster in my sights. I'm not really one to say much, as I have done things in the past that might be worse than his crowning moment of vileness, though.
Upon reaching the top of the clock tower, I quickly undid the string wrapped around my dear tool. Joanna. I got that from a book I had read for my fifteenth birthday. Before then, this rifle was just a rifle. Now, she is an important element of my life. A handy tool with an endearing name. Joanna. Slipping the bipod into place, I drew my binoculars to check the route that had been printed on the plan Myles had replicated. Just as expected, a two-horse carriage was passing exactly through that path.
I put the bins away and peered at the target through Joanna's scope, adjusting for wind velocity and direction. Yes, I could see his face right there. I didn't particularly care for why he was driving a carriage, which attracted much attention. In my humble opinion, it would make him all the more vulnerable. A cold smirk stretched across my face. Considering Orphen Blood's reputation, this hit was going to be easy. Almost... too easy. I pulled the trigger.
[1/5]
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Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Aug 27, 2009 13:26:57 GMT -5
A crack resounded throughout the town. Less than a second later, a man's head exploded into a bloody mess, crimson mist spreading out along with fragmented bits of skull and tiny blobs of grey matter. People started to panic, running away from all this. The headless corpse fell out of the coach driver's seat and hit the street, the incident startling the horses into breaking out into a frantic rush.
They took separate directions as they neared a fork in the road, or at least tried to. The straps in between their harnesses kept them somewhat in place, and held out despite their strength. In the end, the lamp post standing at the fork caught the reins, tripping the horses and tossing the carriage up into the air. It crashed onto the road with a mighty noise, knocking the door open to reveal its lack of any particular content. Crowds soon began to gather around the site of the crash, the injured horses, and the headless body. Just what had happened, exactly?
On the other side of town, "Third Eye" Partridge produced a chilling smirk as he heard the sounds of the commotion and saw dust rise into the air. "Just as planned," he muttered confidently to himself as he continued to drive his own coach safely. Not only had the decoy worked, it had worked beautifully. As expected, a drafted plan could never be trusted. Things that were written down and were known to at least three people, tended to find themselves in the wrong hands so easily nowadays. It would be a shame if he had actually used that plan.
"Third Eye" Partridge didn't exactly have an eye at the back of his head. Nor could he see spirits, or into the future. Well, in the case of the latter, not literally. No, Partridge's magical talent was his ability to overclock his brain, creating a terrifying thinking ability that bordered on... that of a primitive computer, you could say. That is, if there were such things as computers here, but obviously, there weren't. In such a case, the closer, more existing analogue was that it pretty much effectively served as 'magical foresight'.
In this case, the decoy was really a simple measure. Not even one that could be considered a 'masterfully crafted plan'. After all, anybody who was careful would be smart enough to pull something off. But. A simple measure, combined with a series of other simple measures carefully thought out and interwoven properly, did in fact create a 'masterfully crafted plan'. The plan was intentionally left in a vulnerable position, as it was not the real route. Again, a decoy. Left in place at a time and under circumstances so well played out that it couldn't have been anything other than an accident. But it wasn't.
A second carriage had been commissioned. Through back channels, its driver was instructed to take a 'shortcut' through the town to fetch a certain girl at a certain address who would be going someplace at a certain time. Now, Partridge had no way of knowing who was going to attack him, or how. That was where these three other companions of his in the cabin were for. Astarte and her 'Backtrace' magic allowed her to look back through time. Combined with Kramer and his 'Projected Sight', which allowed him to, well, project his sight anywhere within a three-mile radius (as well as display what he was seeing to those nearby), they would be able to find out who killed the decoy, and how. Kramer would observe the decoy from multiple angles, and when the moment of truth arrived, Astarte would rewind the vision to observe the events.
That was where Fahren came in. Fahren, the Juggernaut, and his ability to pretty much shrug off most of the standard magical attacks that were around. Heavy armor protected this giant from those nasty physical attacks that he was however, quite vulnerable to (that is, while taking his powerful physique into account). With this setup, Fahren was Orphen Blood's tank, charging in to soak up the first salvo and take the unsuspecting targets by surprise, while the rest of the guild would take advantage of that small opening to quickly finish off their targets.
"A bullet... interesting." said Astarte after applying her spell to the carnage that had just been witnessed by Kramer's relatively all-seeing eyes. "It would appear that Crimson Lotus has sent a Gunman after you. It will take me some time to find the exact source of the shot, but from the angle I see here, it should have come from a relatively high place. A nearby building, perhaps?"
"Kramer would have seen him on a roof otherwise," Partridge answered, his Third Eye already kicking into gear. "No, it was from further away. I wouldn't be surprised if it came from the clock tower," he glanced momentarily at the tower at the center of the village. "If were a Gunman, that's where I would have positioned myself. An excellent view for miles around."
"Shall we crush him?" Fahren cracked his knuckles, eager for some action. Being a tank, gave him quite the bit of blood-lusting attitude you would expect from this kind of character.
"No." Partridge smirked. "Let the Lotus bud humiliate himself and return home, thinking that his job is done. That should be enough for me."
The Juggernaut stomped on the floor. "But I want to crush him! The gullible bug!"
"I said no."
"Who died and made you Guild Master!?" Agitated, Fahren stood up and stomped on the floor again.
"Nobody. I just happen to be in charge of the mission. Besides, the relic needs to be taken to the next town without de- Fahren, what are you doing!?"
The Juggernaut had punched a hole in the ceiling and climbed up onto the roof of the carriage. What an idiot! At this rate, the whole plan was at risk of being ruined. He shouted up at the tower. "Gunman! Your time is near! Prepare yourself!" As Fahren jumped off of the stage coach, another crack echoed throughout the town. The Juggernaut fell to the ground, lifeless, blood seeping out of one of the peepholes in his armor.
Somehow, "Third Eye" Partridge didn't see this coming... or did he?
[2/5]
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Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Sept 2, 2009 8:33:02 GMT -5
I commend you for your slick plotting and nigh-perfect execution of your brilliant scheme, Partridge. From scum to scum, take it as a congenial word of praise. But that's really not something you care about, is it? No, you just want to get away from me as fast as possible. I swung the rifle on the bipod at a certain arc length. When I sighted through the scope again, I smirked. Perfect. The horses would be running that way in about three seconds. This time, I won't miss.
Thinking back to earlier, I had already prepared to go home after hitting that first coachman. An unfortunate casualty resulting from the manipulative tentacles of the Partridge in a Pear Tree. Of course, I didn't quite realize that until I heard a faint voice in the distance. What I saw was a large man covered in gratuitous amounts of armor plates, standing atop another coach on the other side of town. Upon closer inspection, he was shouting at me.
It doesn't take much intelligence to put two and two together. I don't consider myself a genius, but I am an expert in my particular field. Upon closer inspection - my scope is adjustable, you know - I spotted a familiar decal on his exposed left backhand. It was a guild symbol, but more importantly, it was a guild symbol that I was very familiar with.
Orphen Blood.
A smirk crept stealthily onto my face. It was the kind of expression you would find on a general who was witnessing his plan executed perfectly, his troops routing the enemy according to plan. But this particular smirk wasn't a celebration of my intelligence and planning skills. No, it was amusement at how stupid this man was. Clearly, Partridge's plan had worked. I had taken the bait. And yet, here was his henchman, foolishly revealing their positions to me. There was nothing left to do but oblige them.
I took aim for that small opening in the helmet, where his eyes would be. Do not underestimate me, giant. Where I am right now, Taking you out that way is no challenge. None at all. With the pull of a trigger, a bullet shot down the barrel and out of the rifle, striking the bulls-eye without fail, just as the armored man was jumping off the carriage. One down, one more to go.
Which brings us to where I am right now.
Another shot rang out, and struck true. One horse tripped as I opened up a hole in its leg, starting a chain reaction that tripped the other horse and rendered the coach airborne for a short few seconds. People were knocked out of the cabin and driver's seat, one of whom I painted as my next victim. Her head exploded in midair, just as she stopped rising and began to fall back to the dirt. The other two had managed to take cover inside a building. That just won't do.
Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, I jumped over the railing, attaching a quick draw grapple to the balustrade and zipping down the side of the clock tower with an especially lengthy cord of rope. Dust clouds flew up as my feet hit the ground ten seconds later. Startled townspeople quickly got out of my way as I walked hurriedly through the streets. The path towards the crash was especially clean. No questions asked, people stepped out of my way as I went in the target's general direction. It wouldn't be long now.
You can run, Partridge, but you can't hide.
I stepped into one of the buildings near the one I spotted earlier. As it was a given that the enemy wasn't going to stop and wait for me while I caught up with them, then it shouldn't have been a surprise that a knife flew by in front of me from my left, mere inches from my face, as I stepped into the door. As the blade impaled the wall to my right, I pulled out the black handgun Alberto, and fired in the direction from whence the knife came from.
I heard a vase shatter. But I didn't hear what I wanted to, and that was a dead body falling to the ground. It was dark, you see. Very dark. Somebody had shut the curtains. I shut the door and ducked just as another knife flew my way. This time, it impaled the door. I quickly reacted and fired another shot. The bullet hit the wall. Whoever was in here with me was not going to be so quick as to let me out alive.
No, I was his prey, whoever he was. Either Partridge, or one of his associates. Myles had said nothing about Partridge's particular abilities, only that he had the moniker 'Third Eye'. This meant that he was either good at seeing things at a distances, or, from what I've seen of him so far, an excellent planner, with magically-derived foresight. Yes, that had to be it. But in that case, why was this knife-thrower aiming at me quite accurately even in near-complete darkness?
I cartwheeled to another side of the room, dodging another three knives. At this rate, I was gravely disadvantaged until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. But to be completely honest? I've had enough. As the next knife came my way, I dropped to the floor and rolled, to the opposite side and fired twice. The table collapsed. This was starting to irritate me, but I knew that I had to keep my cool. If I didn't, it would be over. At that particular thought, I made my move.
Light streamed in through broken glass as I shot at one window, at an odd angle. Curving the bullet so that it struck one that made the trajectory trace confusing as hell. And yet, it didn't work. I rolled out of the way of yet another knife. Was this the true power of Partridge? The ability to see you even in the dark? To see you even when you employed misdirection? If so, then I was truly up against a formidable opponent. A monster who could read my every move and use this knowledge to his advantage.
I smirked. This just makes it more interesting.
I pulled out the white handgun, Sophie, as I rolled deeper into the inky darkness of the room. With two guns, things were going to be dealt with more quickly. All this rolling around had a point, after all, and that was to find the curtains. Even now, the enemy was still hiding in the shadow, much like a phantom, I would imagine. Then the only way to beat him, was to use his own game against him, but with the addition of my own little minor adjustment to his rules.
You like hiding in the darkness, Partridge? Then fine. I'll hide in the darkness too. But along the way, I'll expose you to revealing light that will make killing you so much easier. I crossed my arms over my chest, guns angled like the crossbones of a jolly roger. Twin shots rang out and bullets curved to break open another two windows. More light began to stream into the room, just the allowance I was looking for.
In the distance, I thought I saw a shoe move out of sight as a knife flew at me. I rolled into one of the few remaining dark corners of the room, dodging the blade as I fired again. This time, I managed to catch a cloak before I rolled to the next checkpoint. Another two knives sped toward me, which I deflected with a shot from each pistol. As I rolled, the next two windows shattered. Yes, there it was. An outline of a cloaked entity. This time, there was no escape. I could clearly see his form now.
Median, almost normal. But you could tell his physique was stronger, more solidly built than the average mage. Was this Partridge? I frankly didn't care. He tried to kill me. That clearly marked him as Partridge, if not one of his henchmen, a murderer who worked for Orphen Blood. It didn't matter how he was able to do what he had been doing. It was all over for him now. In shock, my eyes widened as he threw a slew of blades, maybe seven of them. I rolled to a side, but I can't really say that I got out of that mess unscathed. One of the blades grazed my shoulder. That could be tended to later, however.
I maneuvered my roll into a cartwheel. In a snap, I was standing on two feet and firing at the apparition, who was moving in a way I could now understand. He was indeed fast. It was foolishness to think that he would fight me in close quarters without being skilled enough to fight back in such a manner. Out of five bullets, one began to curve. That was the idea of misdirection and confusion. Don't think that just because you dodged a bunch that tried to hit you before, you could dodge this one that was specially guided.
The slug pierced his back and exited through his chest just as he turned around in another attempt to skewer me with knives. Finally, I heard it. The satisfying sound of a body hitting the floor. I shot his hands for good measure before turning my attention to parting the curtains. He naturally screamed in agony at my treatment. There, laying on the floor taking his last few breaths, was a middle-aged man. Not Partridge. But that wasn't important. I could use him anyway. I grabbed his collar and picked the mage off the floor, pinning him to the wall. "Where is Partridge?"
The mage only snickered weakly at me, mocking my direct inquiry. "Well? Where is he?"
"Gunman. Do you really think I would betray my comrade? Especially now, that the last I can do is keep his whereabouts safe?"
My eyes narrowed at his claim. This was understandable. After all, he was likely a high-class member of Orphen Blood. Whatever his power was supposed to be, anyway. Still, you could never be too sure. He might have a code of loyalty to his rules or whatnot, but sometimes, there were things that could help loosen his tongue. I loaded a fresh clip into Alberto and shot off the big toe of his right foot. He screamed in pain once more. "Where is Partridge?"
"This pain is nothing. What makes you think you can get me to talk by- AGH!" I shot off his other big toe. I was answered by his spitting in my face. "You can keep this up all afternoon, wench. My lips are- AAAGHH!"
"You have seven toes left, Orphen Blood mage." I announced with a cold conviction. "You're right that I can keep this up all afternoon. And I do have the patience to do so. I will ask you again. Where is Partridge?"
At this the man started laughing maniacally. Clearly, my treatment was having an unintended effect. He was not supposed to react this way. But, well, other people did snap and go crazy after experiencing this much pain. I blew away another toe. "Talk!"
"What part of my lips are sealed do you not understand, wench? I have not, and will not, tell you- AAAH!"
"Fine then. If that is how you want it." I snorted. "I will ask you one last time. Where is Partridge?"
This mage resumed laughing. "You really are Helical Shughart's guildsman. Just like him, you're stubborn to no limit. Even after I tell you repeatedly that I won't talk, you- GAAAAHHHHH!!!" I released the man, allowing him to collapse to the floor and instinctively move the ruined remains of his hands to his now bleeding crotch. I mean this when I say it. If that doesn't get him to talk, then nothing will. He looked up at me in defiance. His lips moved. Words entered my ear. Words I did not like, or care to remember at all.
One last shot rang out as I turned around to go for the door on the side of the building opposite of the one I had come in through. Lying motionless in the corner was Partridge's guild mate, a bleeding hole in his skull, dead eyes glazed over. The hunt will continue. I shall find that Partridge, and knock him out of his comfortable little Pear tree.
As I stepped out into the street, I saw it. The carriage, ruined, and to its side, an expensive-looking chest. No doubt, whatever Partridge was meaning to deliver, that is, if the item really was still there. My eyebrow merely rose as I approached the wreckage to inspect it. No, I had no intention of taking his treasure. I have no other interests outside my mission. I am an assassin, a murderer. Taking an item possessed by another guild is outside my portfolio. That belongs to a thief.
To another side was the headless body of his other associate. A pity. Judging from her figure, she was likely a vixen when she was alive. Not that I care. Appearance made her no different from her colleagues. She was still a monster working for a guild that dealt in assassination and murder of the innocent. I slowly walked around the mess. There was no sign of Partridge. Was his comrade just stalling for time? To allow him to escape? How cowardly. This would not be allowed to pass.
I looked at the chest again. This made no sense. Why would he do such a thing as leaving his important item here? Did he not have to deliver it somewhere? There were at least two ways to look at this. Either he had taken the item out of the chest and left the latter here to serve as another decoy to confuse me, or, he left it here to pick it up later after he killed me. Of course, the second idea was conditional. At the back of my mind, however, there was a lingering sense of danger. Yes, the third possibility. It could have been a trap. Some sort of device rigged to do something very bad to whoever was nearby when it was opened.
Clever. Then, there was only one way to safely test whether the third possibility was true. I stepped back fifty feet and casually shot at the chest. It exploded, showering the surrounding area with what appeared to be miniature arrows. A flechette bomb. I quickly jumped out of the way, placing my legs in a way that made me spin in midair. This spin, I enhanced to boost the distance my jump went. In essence, I had become a human bullet, that broke through a window of a nearby building, landing on the wooden floor with a loud thud. The major danger had been averted. But I had injuries in several places from the broken glass.
Figures. That left two possibilities. Either he was waiting to see if his little trap killed me, or he threw caution to the wind and made off with his item, caring only about getting his treasure to its destination. I grunted as I stood up. There were small cuts and bruises from the glass, but they were manageable. It was only then that I realized there was a little boy hiding underneath the covers of his bed, along with his relatively young mother. Both were looking at me, terrified. "Shhhh..." I brought my finger to my lips, hushing the pair before I opened the door and stepped outside.
There, standing where the exploding box used to be, was a man in a cloak. A wide grin was on his face. Something told me... this was him. This was the man I was sent to kill. There couldn't be any mistake. Of all the townspeople who were hiding in their houses and mages who were out already performing repairs, he was neither. This was him. "'Third Eye' Partridge, I presume?"
"You presume correct."
I smirked at his response. That was all I needed to know. "Your life ends here."
[3/5]
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Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Sept 7, 2009 20:08:00 GMT -5
"Au Contraire, Gunman," I did tell you that he was wearing a relatively spacious cloak, right? No? Well I said he was wearing a cloak, I just didn't say it was relatively spacious until now. Right then. Take it from a professional murderer. When your enemy faces off against you with any sort of spacious garment, you can be one hundred percent sure that he's keeping something under that. "For you see, I've prepared. Just as everything else in this little excursion of yours, you've fallen right into my tra-"
He jumped to the side as I raised my gun - does it really matter which? - and shot at him. Don't you just hate it when a guy you're sent to kill talks too much? I mean, really. It's obvious that he's been planning stuff, and it wouldn't be surprising if he was planning the whole thing from the beginning, but jeez. Asshole doesn't have to rub it in. Before he could fully recover, I fired again, forcing him to roll further away. I could keep this up all day, really. Another shot nicked that lamp post, allowing him a brief moment to scurry away. The bastard.
I quickly followed him around the corner. Apparently, this guy has really good reflexes, as by the time I got to that lamp post, he already had a repeating crossbow drawn. I tucked and rolled aside as Partridge started shooting bolts in my direction. Annoying, to say the least. At most, a grave hindrance to my mission. Something that I can't stand idly by and let him casually get away with. More importantly, where was his treasure? Does he keep it under that cloak too? I went back around the corner, just out of sight, and curved the next few shots. If I'm lucky, one of those three shots would have hit him.
I rounded the corner again. The mark was gone, but I had a very useful consolation. Upon closer inspection of the ground, there was a distinct trail of blood leading from his spot, and into an alley. The fool. There was no escape for him now. I followed the blood trail into the limited space, keeping my attention to my surroundings. From what I've seen of this guy, he seems to have a knack for setting traps and pulling off sneaky plots. I wonder what he's planning now, leading me with this blood of his. Or maybe, I'm lucky, and he hasn't noticed? No, that would be stupid. How do you not notice that you're bleeding?
The trail was long, and the footprints were staggering. There was no doubt about it. I had hit him someplace where it hurt. I followed the sporadic drops until they led me into the back door of a house. Hoh. You're not gonna get me this time around, you slick bastard. I've been duped one too many times. Chances are, he was waiting for me on either side of the door, in a flanking maneuver. No, this time, I was playing it smart. I carefully passed by the door and followed the alley to the end, where it led to another main street. I checked either curb. Nope, no surprises on this end. Nevertheless, I still couldn't help but get the feeling that I was being watched. Yes... maybe that was his third eye?
I knocked on the front door of the house. No response. I knocked again. Still nothing. I tried the door. Unlocked. The door opened with a creek as I slowly pushed it in, raising my gun to shoot anything that happened to pop out and take me by surprise. It was quiet. Caution in mind, I first picked up a rock and threw it inside. Silence. What kind of game was Partridge playing, anyway? I stepped inside. The house was barren, empty save for a doll lying on the bed. As if nobody had lived in it for a while. In a sense, fortunate. Nobody would be getting in my way by accident today. Well, except that one coachman, but that's another story.
Bed, kitchen, restroom... Back door. And at the foot of the back door? An empty vial of blood... This brings two conclusions. First and most obviously, I didn't hit Partridge as I first thought. Second? It's entirely likely that this empty house was the kill zone for yet another of his annoying and 'brilliant' traps. Just as I thought that, the front door shut behind me. Oh, wow. What incredible timing you have, scum. Are you sure that you can't read my mind or something like that? I swiftly turned around and saw, well, that the door was closed.
What now? Well, let's see. My guess is, a bomb in the house might blow it up or something. Aside from that, it could be some other deadly implement, like gas. Who knows, really? I mean, there doesn't seem to be a clear indication of what "Third Eye" Partridge's true power really is. What I do know, is that he's a sneaky bastard who likes setting traps and whatnot. It doesn't take magical power to do that. I shot the doorknob out and kicked the door down, running outside as fast as I could - and almost got skewered by a hail of crossbow bolts.
That sly fox. The house wasn't even bait! But... how could he have calculated my moves so effectively? Shaking these puzzling thoughts aside, I traced the path the bolts had taken. They came in from the roof of a nearby house... Where that same cloaked figure continued to fire at me. Unbelievable. I returned fire, seeking cover inside the house. And that was when I smelled it. The unmistakable odor of brimstone. Or whatever you people call it nowadays. I looked behind me to see the doll smoking. "What is it, really!?"
I yelled out loud as I ran outside the house, firing back up at where I last saw that bastard. Just as I got to the center of the main street, that empty building exploded in a fiery blaze. Not so huge as to destroy an entire block, rather, merely incinerating the house itself, and not so fiery as to start a fire. Still, there was collateral damage. When I saw it, Partridge was gone. Once again, running and hiding from me, the dirty coward. Apparently, his idea of a good trap is to cover every possibility. How does he think ahead like that!?
Calm down, Hilde. If you give in to your anger, you'll only let him win out in the end. Be unpredictable. The more carefully planned a trap, the more factors it has to rely on. Don't act like you normally do. I'm honestly sick and tired of playing his underhanded little game. Only by sheer luck have I avoided getting killed so far. That cut from diving through the window earlier ached to remind me of this convenient little fact. I reloaded and approached the building. As I faced the door of the second house, I heard a click from behind me. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground and spun around in a sweeping kick.
And there, that was where I realized the mistake. My leg burned as a bolt scraped it. Partridge had again anticipated my move and instead of aiming it directly at me as I stood, had aimed it downward from the very beginning. Well to be honest, I don't really care anymore. Before he could fire again, I somersaulted backwards and landed on my good leg, in that time having drawn both guns.
CHANCE!
He was standing there, in a moment of weakness, while I was here, with perfect aim. Five bullets. Five curving bullets. It was a split second move, and yet I could play back its perfection in my mind repeatedly, for the sheer joy that I was feeling. I hadn't felt something like this in years. Only now have I come across such a sneaky opponent. Other targets were either killed before they even knew I was there, or were pompous idiots who underestimated me so much that it served as a very useful weakness that I could exploit to no end. But Partridge? Partridge was different. He played it smart. And even managed to do something that nobody had done to me - irritate me to frustration.
But it was over now. Time to give up, you bastard. Because there's no escape. Not for you, you've pulled enough vanishing tricks long enough. I saw the bullets make their impact. First in the shoulder, then the thigh, three square in the chest. Partridge dropped his crossbow and fell back. Coolly, I approached him and kicked the advanced contraption out of reach. Entering range, I stepped on his wounded thigh, eliciting a pained grunt as I trained Sophie at his head. "'Third Eye' Partridge. Your days of murder are over."
And yet for some reason, I only saw him grin widely, as if he had somehow won, despite all this. "Foolish, foolish child. I am but one of the members of the guild."
"Yes, and we shall hunt them down to the last man." His grin did not falter. Why? Did he have something else up his sleeve?
"You don't understand. You see, it was folly to chase after me. The relic that is now safely on the way to its destination is thousands of times more important than the life of one guildsman, no matter how highly-ranked." My eyebrow arched as he said this. "Mordecai's Axe is now beyond your-"
He stopped babbling after I put two bullets in his brain. As I said earlier, I hate it when people talk too much. Like I would care for something as vague as some ancient Axe. Granted, it might have been yet another tool powered by their ancient magics and technologies, but none of that really matters to me. Somebody else can worry about saving the world from whatever terrors a potentially dangerous artifact such as that can bring about. As to myself, I am Hilde Møller Knag, a simple assassin. A simple murderess. I take my aim, and play my game the way I should. Nothing else comes to mind.
Just to be certain, I pulled off his cloak. All three bullets to the chest had been absorbed by a sheet of thick, metal armor he was wearing. And up his right sleeve lay a concealed stiletto. Perhaps he intended to try and stab me when he finished talking. The idiot. When an opportunity opens itself to you, you take it. You don't blabber on incessantly and allow it to disappear like that. Was that his weakness? Did he talk too much? Or did he follow some convention that was beyond my understanding?
Whatever. I holstered my sidearms and wrapped my rifle back in the cloth that I had with me. My own cloak, I had put back on. And resumed my walk out into the now crowding main street, inconspicuous as ever. A carriage passed me by, heading in the same direction as both that I had shot down earlier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar-looking chest in the cabin. But that, that chest didn't matter to me. Orphen Blood can have their silly little magical ancient axe for all I care. As to myself? Simple killer Hilde Møller Knag of Crimson Lotus? The mission has been accomplished.
[4/5]
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Hilde Møller Knag
CRIMSON LOTUS
[M:2725]
By the time you see me... actually, you won't see me.[A1i:7]
Posts: 18
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Post by Hilde Møller Knag on Sept 8, 2009 7:51:24 GMT -5
"So, how'd it go?" The shady figure with the circular glasses reclined onto the tree. This tree wasn't too far outside of town. In the shade, it kind of looked like the figure with the cigarette had a couple of lamps in his - or her, I never really could tell - eyes. The voice could easily pass for either a that of a husky woman, or a light-voiced man. "I saw and heard a lot of things going on in there, and I didn't even need to be anywhere near it."
"Are you telling me that you have been watching the whole time?"
The figure drew a breath of smoke and puffed it out. "My business is intelligence, kid. Me, Raem, and a few others you've yet to meet. It's what we do. Don't act so surprised." You don't have to rub it in, you know. He's got a point, though. Myles always was that kind of person. No matter how much of a jerk he might seem, it doesn't change the fact that he's right in most cases. It may or may not have anything to do with the fact that he's from the original crew, a member of Crimson Lotus who saw its days as a part of Shrike Teppelin.
Which sort of makes me wonder, how he manages to keep looking young as he seems? I mean, I doubt he was a kid when he was in that guild, that makes no sense. He certainly doesn't look my age, but all this time I've known him, he seems to have remained in a period of biological stasis or something. "I would suppose." I pulled off my hood and shook my hair out. "Well, I knocked that Partridge out from his comfortable pear tree, for one."
"Uh-huh..."
"It is a certainty that his treasure has escaped," I shrugged, reclining onto the tree. Discussions like this? They didn't last for too long, but they weren't exactly short either. "But that was not part of the mission, was it?" I killed that man. I watched him die. With a slight feeling of accomplishment, I might add. Somebody like that, who could almost magically set up traps from nowhere was too dangerous to be kept alive, no matter what you said in his defense. "Civilians were killed, the plan you provided me with was the incorrect one, and he apparently had the whole incursion planned out in advance. I am most fortunate to still be around."
Myles smirked as he took another breath. "Nothing's stopping you from getting the job done, eh? At least one civilian is dead, over fifty more injured from various complications." I never could figure out how he got those numbers. Did he secretly follow me around and count the dead bodies I left behind? "That was probably the messiest job I've seen you do. Congratulations, kid. You just set a new record for collateral damage." Telling that joke with such a straight face... That's Myles for you.
I never got his last name. Presumably, Shrike Teppelin would have it, if they were still around. Last I heard, that old guild the man with the sunglasses kept talking about went under around two years ago. "As I have said. The Partridge was the trickiest bastard I have ever run into. If my testimony seems illegitimate, let me remind you he even managed to fool even you." I looked at the intelligence officer accusingly, one of the few times I showed something underneath this cheerful mask. Of course, knowing him, he probably knows about the mask anyway.
"About that," Undaunted by my gaze, Myles reached into his black coat and handed me a scroll. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a mirror image of the route I had studied. The spy blew out another ring of smoke. "Lisette gave you the wrong one. Decided to watch and see if you would be able to adapt to the mission with faulty intelligence, rather than correct the error. As it turns out, you did pretty well, all things considered."
"People died, suffered, because of that decision of yours." Myles was truly difficult to read. Though I can't expect any less of him. Even amongst murderers as such as ourselves, the spies have a level of distrust that we can't ignore. What kind of man would join an organization to provide information, to make plans, that would allow other people to commit murder, after all? That he was from Shrike Teppelin doesn't count. If he wasn't twisted to some degree or another, Myles would have remained with the main guild rather than go out with the rest of Crimson Lotus.
"What of it? People die everyday. This is nothing new." Myles removed the cigarette from his mouth and flicked it onto the ground, watching the cinders ignite the grass. He didn't even stop to put it out. "More importantly, I wanted to see how you would react to such a thing. I've no doubt that when you put your mind to it, not even civilians will get in the way of your desire to succeed. But accidentally killing somebody is another issue entirely, for one such as yourself, kid." He looked at me with those impenetrable glowing, circular spectacles.
I didn't respond, merely watched as he smirked.
"Well, the job's done. You can head back to the Guild Hall now."
"And what of you?"
Myles gazed over to the pillar of smoke rising from the town. "Me? I think I'll watch this town burn for a little bit longer. Maybe I'll catch up with Orphen Blood's secret courier, see if I can get a picture of that Axe they're delivering." Seeing me nod, the spy disappeared around the tree. There wouldn't be any use trying to go after him at this point. One thing I learned about this guy, is that once he's out of sight, you won't see him until he reveals himself.
Resigning myself to the consequences of my actions, I sighed. Only now was the dull aching of my wounds starting to get to me. Well, that wasn't something they could fix at the guild. I took the nearest street that led to the southern main road. Thank you for sticking around for this little incursion we've just presented for you. Justice was dealt out, rights were wronged, though at the cost of some mistakes, but we're all only human, after all. The town of Tully Village will eventually recover. There's no doubt of that. This is Hilde Møller Knag, your hostess for today, walking off into the afternoon sun.
[5/5]
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Post by Lucy Heartphilia on Sept 8, 2009 8:30:10 GMT -5
[MISSION COMPLETE]
Reward(s): 1,725 Jewels Bad reputation in Tully Village The stiletto from Partridge's cloak A new Technique
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