Walking the Black Rose

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia’s lip curled upwards slightly as Darkheart spoke, revealing a pointed eyetooth in a silent snarl. “It would be unwise to threaten me, human,” she growled, her voice quiet with understated menace. “I’ve eaten the hearts of men far braver and stronger than you will ever be, but don’t think I won’t stoop to devouring yours.” After a moment, however, she composed herself. She wasn’t a fool; she knew when there was a power shift. She wasn’t playing a game anymore. Now, what she said could have her strapped onto a dissection table, ready to be examined by government mages.

Against her better judgment, she sank into one of the previously offered chairs. Licking her lips, as they had suddenly grown rather dry, she looked up at the man who had just asked her if she was alright. She gave no response, wondering why he would do such a thing and what his motive behind it was. Finally, she reached behind her under her cape, as if to pull out a concealed weapon. Instead, her gloved hand emerged clutching a small book. It was nothing special to look at, rather worn and plain looking, with a leather cover and parchment pages.

“This is my creator’s journal,” the cat-girl said, holding the book out to the guard. “Well, one of them, at least. In this one, he kept notes as to how he went about making an animated construct without using the soul of a deceased to possess it. Apparently, he based his method on some of those of the ancient battle mages, which meant he did some tomb robbing to get the information he needed. Almost a third of the information in this book is on their tombs. I’ll let you read it if-“ she paused briefly, looking down, “If you promise not to hand it or me over to the government mages.”

[Shadowsong]

A long breath was let out forcefully after that. Darkheart waited for her to finish speaking, offer and all. The pauses settled in. No sense in pushing harder while her nerves were still frayed.

'It is not my intent to hand you to the government mages. Nor do I mean to threaten you. I merely wished to cut through the pretenses of innocence.' The next part was said slowly for effect, 'I'll not hand you or the book to the city mages.' Said looking her straight in the eye. 'If you wish to ask something more of me, do so.' Only then did he extend a mailed hand to accept the book.

Alalia's threat seemingly forgotten, the warrior added, 'We may meet in the future, you and I. I would prefer that you not fear me.'

Her tension was obvious, as was her shame. It would be better not to press that further. 'Let me have the journal now, I'll use some of the day to read it. Do you already have a room booked for the night?'

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia slowly raised her eyes to meet his as Darkheart spoke. When he finished, she shook her head, keeping her hold on the book. “I have no more reason to trust you than you have to trust me,” she said simply. “I’m not letting you out of my sight while you have the journal.” With that said, she released her grip on the book, then settled back into the chair, crossing her arms as she watched him.

The cat-girl knew that the journal now in the guard’s possession was the source of her being, the key to her very essence. She doubted the man would run off with it now, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. If that meant staying in his room and watching him turn each and every page, than she would do it.

“Some of the later notes concern rather complicated magical theory,” Alalia added as an afterthought. “However, I believe the parts about the tombs are fairly easy to understand.

[Shadowsong]

Inconvenient, really.

Darkheart had done alot of reading, he could completely absorb a large book in the space of a few hours. But as he absorbed books, so did books absorb him. Having his attention so thoroughly diverted with someone quite so dangerous in the room would not be good...espescially when a surprise attack would be her best way out of a difficult situation.

'As you said, we don't trust each other. And I cannot think of a better time to attack then when I am reading. If I betray you I lose any further knowledge you can give me, if you betray me you cover your tracks.'

'And you didn't ask me for anything in exchange.'

Then a compromise came to mind. 'Let's go back to the tavern room. You can watch me in there and I have the relative safety of being somewhere public. How is that?' A hand was offered to settle the deal.

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia scowled when Darkheart came dangerously close to refusing her. However, when he offered a compromise, she nodded. Her leather covered hand met his mail covered one as she shook, saying simply, “Fine.” Standing, she pulled her hood up and adjusted her cape carefully to hide her tail. Darkheart had promised not to turn her in, but the patrons of the inn had not.

The cat-girl gave the man a side-long look, trying to figure out how to escape the entire situation. However, she soon gave up on the notion. The idea of examination and dissection still loomed in her mind, despite his claim that he had no intention of handing her over to the city mages.

Walking over to the door, she gestured with her arm mockingly. “After you, sir,” she said.

[Shadowsong]

Now she was becoming a pain.

It was time to point out the obvious, 'Who is the one with the key?' It was only practical that he be the last to leave, since he was the one who could lock the door behind them both. Of course, there was also no way in hell he was letting her behind him until he had some insurance that a backstab was not coming his way.

Manners seemed the most appropriate tactic. 'On an educated guess, you would be a lady. I insist.' Then he gestured for her to go on.

The mocking gesture on her part was noticed. Obviously kindness was not the way to deal with her. Only with Alalia clear of the doorway did Darkheart even begin to move.

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia allowed her hand to drop back to her side when Darkheart commented. She knew that his show of manners was no more sincere than her own, but she did what he said nonetheless. Once she was out of the door, she turned so she was facing him, not trusting him with her back anymore than he trusted her with his. A pity, really. A well placed thrust could have solved all her problems quite neatly.

The cat-girl wrinkled her nose as the smells of alcohol and numerous humans in close proximity drifted up the staircase from the common room. The whole race disgusted her, and it thoroughly exasperated her that she was having to compromise with one. They were creatures of waste and excess, and she was glad her animal side balanced all that out with instinct and bare need to survive.

Walking towards the stairs, Alalia glanced over her shoulder when she reached the banister. “Coming?” she asked, wanting the man to hurry so she could be done with the whole situation.

[Shadowsong]

A hint of contrariness struck in reaction to the cat-girl's attitude, and for a long moment it seemed like a really good idea, now she was out the room, to just lock the door behind her and read the book inside.

A very long moment. It delayed him leaving. Just in time he remembered to bring his shield as well. Chances are he would be needing it.

In truth, this strange creature was starting to be viewed with contempt. It, not she, it...was an animal. An animal constantly seeking to assert dominance. Although regrettably intelligent the thing probably had no understanding of cooperation, or loyalty. It was as if the creature had first sought to break him, but after learning where the balance of power lay, tried to salvage it's pride by undermining him constantly. It was pathetic really, this desperate scrambling for an advantage.

It was such a shame he gave his word. Going back on promises was not him really, even promises to one such as this. Even knowing that she would go back on her word.

Of course, he knew exactly what he promised, and where that promise ended. He agreed not to hand her to the city battlemages, nothing more.

Keeping the treacherous beast in front of him, he finally made his way to the common room. The fact that it would still not turn her back on him told him more about how it thought. It would not think twice about plunging a blade into his back.

Once in the common room, he did something unexpected...he handed the journal back. 'There is something I have just remembered. Keep hold of this and wait for me here a moment. It is no cause for concern.'

Drawing the situation out would be an option. One the arrogant little wench deserved to endure. But that behaviour was more her nature than his. And there was little room for arguement, since she had yet to fulfill her end of the bargain.

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia growled at Darkheart when he left his room after a short delay, unhappy about the wait. She wanted him to read the journal, take what information he need, then return it and let her go. She wasn’t sure that that was how the whole situation would play out, but even if that was what he was planning to do, he was certainly taking his time about it.

However, despite her determination to be ready for whatever the guard might do, she was surprised when he handed the book back to her. Too stunned to do anything but watch him leave the room, she said nothing. However, once he was gone, a sly smirk crept across her face. Did he honestly expect her to stay, now that he was gone and she had the journal back? Slipping the book back into the bag she had drawn it from, she slunk through the crowd and left through the back door.

Once she was outside, the cat-girl was briefly unable to decide what to do. Her animal side was telling her to flee, but her human part wanted revenge. The human part won. Leaping at the outside wall of the inn, she dug her fingers and toes into the cracks in the mortar and bricks. Using those cracks as hands and foot holds, she climbed up to the roof, where she sat and waited. Pulling on one of the fingers of her leather glove, she removed the garment, then flexed her fingers. From where fingernails should have been sprung retractable claws, sliding out of her flesh with a satisfying scraping feeling. Removing her other glove, she did the same with her other hand, and then waited. It was a possibility that the guard would come out looking for her, and if he did, she was going to kill him.

[Shadowsong]

Who needed the journal? As considered earlier, she hadn't kept her end of the bargain. A few well-placed words and the name and face of Alalia Morrigan would be on wanted posters all over the realm. A hooded cloak would be easily grounds for investigation... and who would even consider helping her out?

Of course, ripping out a few pages of the journal helped as well.

It cost a few Bishani and writing notes of credit, but messages were sent off. Communication was one advantage the City Guard cultivated. Four messages, to four different people in Marn. A longer term sense of security.

Finding the creature gone when he got back was a mild surprise, he kept expecting more foresight on her part. Did she not see how easily he took the power in the room above? He even allowed her to ask something more in exchange for the information. Dealing with him in good faith would have saved her a lot of problems.

Something about the situation just screamed trap. He was expected to go looking for her. No way she would gain that victory. He had given her every chance, every consideration. Now it serves her bloody right.

'Barkeep! The woman in the hooded cloak, do you know her? She introduced herself by the name Alalia Morrigan and has revealed herself to be involved in the illegal use of magic. Has she a room here? If so I'd like to see it.'

Part of the embittered soldier feared that the messengers would be picked off on the way out. But they had been instructed to be discreet; she would have no way of telling them apart from other travellers. He watched as they leaved. Making sure they were on their journeys...by different routes. A few more people were pulled into this, their job was to provide a small crowd to mask the messengers.

Her arrogance would go against her. It already had. If there was no sign of her soon then every member of the village would be out looking for her. And she had already established that she could do without the attention...

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia sat waiting on the roof, watching people leave the inn. However, none were the man that she was waiting for. Growling softly in frustration, she contemplated the situation she had previously been in. Why had the guard left her alone? Surely he should have known that she would flee; he didn’t seem stupid. Puzzled, she pulled her gloves back on, then removed the book from its bag. Flipping through it, she noticed a few ragged edges near the binding. With a hiss, she slammed the journal shut.

Once again Darkheart had managed to get the upper hand. However, she could hardly go back into the inn, not at the present moment, in any case. Then something clicked. If he had paid for a room, he must have planned on staying for a little while. Going through a mental map of the inside of the Red Chalice, she managed to figure out which window led to his room. At night, she could climb down, break into the room, and if nothing else steal the pages of the journal back. She would much prefer to kill him at the same time, but at the moment she would take what she could get.

Looking around, Alalia observed that she was on top of the highest building for a good distance. If she was still, the likelihood of anyone finding her was slim. Laying flat on the roof, she froze, not moving a muscle as night began to fall. Once it was completely dark, she began to slither along the roof, moving silently as a shadow. Dropping down with a cat’s grace and balancing on the sill of Darkheart’s room, she pulled out a small dagger. Moving slowly and carefully, she cut a small circle in the glass. Putting the knife away, she pulled out a cloth with a sticky substance on it. Placing it against the glass, she peeled it back off, the circle coming out with it. Reaching in with a gloved finger, she undid the latch and slowly crept inside.

[Shadowsong]

Even if you are part cat, it is never fun going up against a rat-bastard.

Back in the tavern, these were some interesting notes. It keyed in which of the tombs he was after. There was also a little bit about a cat construct. Three guess who that was. The notes were diligently copied or at least summarized. After all, the originals held incrimination value should the infuriating little wench continued to be troublesome.

Unfortunate really, because he never planned to hold the girl to ransom. Part of why he kept offering her the chance to ask something more for her information. But no, she had to make a problem out of things.

A short while later, leaving seemed a good idea. Those messages could only be counted on so far, and if he had to deal with the cat-girl again, without hitting her on the head, stuffing her in a crate, and carting her all the way to the battlemages, then his life could depend on where that knowledge reached.

What could be left here? There were rations for example, but it was generally more convenient to just take the saddlebags with him.

Trying to avoid notice when in blackened plate armour is an exercise in futility. While fairly confident that he could defeat her in open battle, he was just as much confident that she would keep retreating every time she failed to catch him off-guard.

And she only had to manage it once.

Dense woodland is very difficult for horses, but the road to Marn was more or less cleared. There would be stretches safe to gallop, and the rough ground would not truly prevent him from covering the distance quickly.

Realising the danger, well, she asked for it. There was every chance to be honest. Now the bitch could suffer.

The sharp bang of a bastard sword on a shield commanded all attention in the barroom. 'Good folk of Shim!' he called out, addressing everyone present. 'There is a criminal hiding among you. Her name is Alalia Morrigan. She can be identified by a hooded black cloak worn to hide her features, for she is a blend of human and cat, a magical construct of proven hostile intent. The creature is armed and considered dangerous. All bearing hooded cloaks or such obvious methods of disguise are subject to searches. If discovered, notify the city guard and everyone else possible. Do not approach the subject alone, for she is willing to kill villagers given opportunity. Warn your friends and families. For everyone who assists in this matter, I will negotiate a reward from the city battlemages.'

'Thank you.'

Lets see how the treacherous bitch handles that.

OOC; in his room will be perhaps some rations, a change of clothes, soap, just travel things really. Maybe a couple of tools. One bottle of something I really don't want you to get but I I don't have much choice.

[Alalia Morrigan]

((OOC: She’s mostly just looking for the pages. She might grab one of his bags, though, just in a last ditch attempt at revenge or having something to trade for her life.))

Alalia quickly searched the room, careful to place everything back where she found it. Unfortunately, it seemed the pages were not there. About to slip out the way she had come, her sensitive feline ears picked up the sound of shouting. Opening the door a crack, she listened to what Darkheart was saying. When he finished his speech, she slowly closed the door again.

Once the door was shut, the cat-girl went into a passionate, although quiet, stream of curses. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of the mess she had gotten herself into. Before morning her name and description would be all over the town. With a snarl, she sank into the chair she had sat in earlier. She briefly considered just going downstairs and turning herself in without a fight. However, her animal instinct to survive refused to accept that.

“Black cloak, hmm?” she muttered quietly. Rummaging through the guard’s spare clothes, she pulled out a hooded cape from his pack. It was simply made of grey wool, probably for his search of the graveyard, she realized. Leaving her old cloak on his bed, she pulled his on. When she did, something hard fell on the floor. Looking down, she saw a bottle rolling slowly across the floor and picked it up. She was about to put it back when she heard something outside the door. Shoving the bottle into her bag, she jumped out of the window and climbed back onto the roof again.

((Sorry if I did something wrong. I can change it if you like.))

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

((OOC: If I misread anything and messed up, let me know, I'll modify it to work))

"Some time ago earlier this evening, a man checked in to the Red Chalice Inn, looking for important information regarding the city," The messenger looked at Morsereg through his doorway, hardening blue eyes gazing at the Vampire before him, "We do not currently know what it is that he is looking for, but I had orders to relay this message directly to you, sir."

Morsereg nodded, "Very well. I'll look into it myself." He tossed a few Bishan to the messenger boy, who he then watched scramble off into the night as if the very fire of Hell was at his feet. The Thieves Guild did not quite know what he was, but they knew if you got on Morsereg Dindaedel's bad side, you were not certain to stay there, or anywhere for that matter, for long. As soon as the messenger was atleast far off, Morsereg had lent himself to the night, traveling to the Red Chalice.

He slowed his pace as he entered the more populated areas, once again lending himself to the spell that diverted attention from his supernatural characteristics. Green orbs stared through the night, finding at once the Inn. In silence he strode towards it, merely another face in the crowd to all around him.

He heard the bang of the bastard sword from outside, slowly opening the door and stepping in to hear the guard's speech. He was only half interested until the description of this Alalia Morrigan came into public knowledge. He had met her before...she had seen him kill. Tricky situation. He could aid the guard capture Alalia for a sum of money, and dispose of the one person in existence besides Belatucadrus who knew him for what he really was. Yet there was a risk to that, a risk far too great for him to take just now. When giving Alalia over to the guards, she could herself reveal him.

What a mess this could be. But, Alalia was not his concern just yet. He slowly moved through the barroom, talking to each waitress in turn, asking if they knew who the fellow was that was looking for information. He finally approached one, the one which had been given the message. With a quickly muttered word she pointed to the guard which had just announced the bounty on Alalia's head, and that was where Morsereg set his sights.

As the bar patrons resumed their idle chat with one another, Morsereg approached the guard, giving only a passing glance to the sword he bore. He himself was not armed, not by anything visibly seen in the least. Long-fingered, narrow hands rested upon the tabletop as he leaned on it, strands of black hair falling infront of his face as he spoke. "I hear you are looking for information. About what?" His lips slithered into the form of a smirk as he looked upon the guard.

[Shadowsong]

The sword went back in it's sheath. Waving around a bastard sword in the midst of polite conversation was known more often than not to make others nervous.

'Have a seat.' offered the warrior, 'And tell me your name.'

With that he reached to pull up a chair and then stopped. Then motioned with his head, finding a chair near to a corner. Conversations could be so rudely interrupted by a blade in one's back.

The warrior sat down, motioning for the stranger to do the same. Mostly this was to stall for time. A presence like Krevster's was an asset, an asset to command and in dealings. But when trying to have a private conversation, being the most noticable person in the room tends to create difficulties...espescially just after making a speech announcing an unholy monster lurking in town.

'Well, I'd like to know more about this town. What kind of information could you provide? And now that it has came up, do you know anything about Alalia Morrigan?'