Walking the Black Rose

[Shadowsong]

Floorboards creaked under steel-shod boots just the same as the door had. Thankfully the door did not recieve a steel-shod boot. Innkeepers tend to get upset about that sort of thing.

Checking the list in his hand yet again. Krevster had done this many times on his way through the woods. At the moment, he had removed his gauntlets to better handle the paper. Paper was still mildly new to him. Parchment still felt more usual to him. All his information led him to the village cemetary, but he wanted information that would lead him out again.

The tavern was busier then expected. More tables were occupied than not. This was not what Krevster had heard about the place. Part of him, the cynical and paranoid part...which made all of him, wondered if there was something out of place about the whole situation.

Finding a table, and a waitress, Krevster ordered a meal, a drink, a room, and that a message be left.

"There is a warrior seeking some very significant information about the village, and that those who listen to these things can find me here."

'Quote it, word for word. Let me remember your face. There will be some Bishan for you if I get the right contacts from this.'

With that Krevster dragged himself up to his room, where he laid down his stuff. He would wait. That was how these things happen. Announce your interest and it soon reaches the right ears.

[Alalia Morrigan]

A cloaked figure sat in the corner of the inn, appearing to be merely staring at the table in front of it. From the form’s comparatively small height and slight shoulders it was probably a woman, but anything other than that was nearly impossible to discern. Her back was slightly arched and her stance seemed stiff, rather resembling a cat with its hackles raised. Her small hands were covered by sturdy leather gloves that were worn and pliable with age. The rest of her form was covered in a simple shirt and pants of nondescript colors and styles. All and all, she seemed a relatively easy figure to overlook.

Except for her eyes. Every now and again the figure moved her head, and some of the dim light inside the inn caught her face. It caused her irises to flash a brilliant green, and unnatural green for a split second, revealing large eyes and narrow slits of black for pupils. None of the usual patrons of the inn noticed this strange occurrence; in fact, they paid little attention to the silent stranger. A waitress had approached once, but was frightened off by those glowing eyes and unrelenting stare.

The same eyes followed the guard from the moment her entered the little inn, marking his every motion. When he began to speak to the waitress, something under her hood moved slightly, a sharp, jerking motion that was almost undetectable. Her lip twitched slightly as she listened to him speak, revealing a single glistening fang. This one was up to something, it seemed. Most guards didn’t bother with bribery and messages, at least, not the common soldiers.

With a lithe, predatory grace, the figure rose from her seat, her cape swishing slightly as it dragged over the chair. For a second, it seemed as though she had a tail, but the fabric quickly fell back into place, hiding such an appendage, if it was really there, from view. Making her way to the door the soldier had entered, she contemplated it for a moment, then knocked. She personally didn’t believe that curiosity killed the cat.

[Shadowsong]

Thump-thump.

Well. That was quick. It certainly was not what he was expecting. And like any methodical, cynical, paranoid maniac, Krevster viewed everything unexpected with suspiscion.

The message to the waitress was hardly bribery, with tavern work it was part of the job description. Admittedly Thar Shaddin was not a place that encouraged generosity but surely tipping must have been heard of.

Still armoured, Krevster left his relative relaxation. Reluctantly. The time was being used to clear his thoughts. There had been so much chaos in his mind at times. So much turmoil. While the when was unknown to him, he was increasingly sure that once he had been mad.

Oh well.

Now to answering the door. The sword nearby was snatched up and unsheathed quickly, some thought was given to taking the shield, but it would hinder answering the door. Stepping over, he reached for the handle, ready to unlock the door. Then a thought so simple struck that a smack to the forehead would be fitting.

With the door still locked he called out 'Who is it?'

[Alalia Morrigan]

Another smirk curved the woman's mouth when she heard the commotion of the man moving about in his room. There was the distinct ring of a blade being drawn from it's scabbard, and heavy footsteps approaching the door. Soon the occupent called out, inquiring as to her identity.

"Someone who simply wishes to know what sort of information you require," she answered. If there had been any doubt as to the figure's gender, her voice settled it. It was decidedly female, with a slight lilt and a hint of a purr underneath that made its owner seem subtly, but undeniably, dangerous.

It was quite likely that she had no information to give the guard, but her interest had been piqued. Casually, she reached inside of her cape, resting a gloved hand on the pommel of her rapier. If the man wanted a fight, then she would certainly oblige, but she didn’t particularly want to kill a guard. The law-makers of Thar Shaddin tended to frown upon the killing of their enforcers.

[Shadowsong]

There was a purr in that voice, a purr!

Women had purred at Krevster before, and it never led to good results. Now was too soon to disturb him...he was disturbed enough at the moment anyway. Using the locked door to shield his own confusion, he stepped lightly back and to the side of the door.

Sheer willpower took over, and those swirling thoughts were forced solidly into place. The was a moment of pain, then triumph, then back to irritation. The next response came through the door less forcefully, but the voice was still strong nontheless.

'That answers the wrong question. You have told me your wish, now be so good as to tell me who you are.'

This conversation would go so much better if Krevster's thoughts were in order.

[Alalia Morrigan]

“Demanding, aren’t we?” the figure asked, as if musing to herself out loud. “But then again, guards have never been terribly tactful, at least, not in my dealings with them.” It would have been much quicker to simply tell the man who she was, but there was no sport in that. She liked to toy with people, prying through their minds and breaking their will, much like a cat playing with a mouse. This man was no different, even though it wasn’t necessary.

After allowing the person on the other side of the door time to absorb what she had said, the woman continued. “Somehow, I don’t believe my name is the information you are looking for,” she said. “Besides, what would you do with such knowledge if I were to impart it upon you? I’ve encountered mages and sorceresses who could curse someone with only their name. What have you done that would cause me to trust you with mine?”

“Stop hiding behind this door and face me, and I shall answer your question,” the figure said finally, tiring of her game. “I don’t enjoy talking to planks of wood.”

[Shadowsong]

Now this was very amusing. A deep, rich laugh could not be suppressed.

'Even when the planks talk back?' he wondered, 'And I am no sorceress.' he answered in an indisputably male voice. If only he could bring himself to care for the game right now.

'As you will. Give me two minutes and then you'll receive my full attention. Thank you.'

Not waiting for a response, the warrior slumped back in the armchair. Disruptions like this could bother him more than he liked to admit, this was really the wrong time for a visitor, and he was damn well getting the moment he needed to recover his trademark focus.

[Alalia Morrigan]

“Very well, then, two minutes,” the figure replied. There was an edge of impatience in her voice as she said it the betrayed her irritation. It was all she could do to keep her obsessive compulsive tendencies in check and prevent herself from counting the seconds as they went by. Instead, she focused her mind on musing about what the man on the other side of the door required the time for.

It could be he was putting on armor and weapons in order to make an intimidating first impression. The woman sincerely hoped he was not doing that, as she was not one to be intimidated and the attempt would simply be wasting her time. Maybe he was applying poison to his blade and planning to kill her for disturbing him. No, it would be unwise for someone seeking information to slay a possible informant. Perhaps he was, heaven forbid, taking a moment to compose himself and think the matter through. That option seemed the most likely, and the most dangerous.

“Time’s up,” the figure called after she was sure the allotted time had passed. Reaching into her cloak again, she lifted her rapier up a few inches out of it’s scabbard, making sure the blade was clear in its sheath.

[Shadowsong]

Yup. The most dangerous option was the right one. It always bloody is with Krevster.

Eerie silence came from the room. By that he would not be donning armour and weapons. Anyway, he already had them in place. And while many had considered Krevster bad tempered, off-handedly murdering someone for merely knocking on the door would be a bit much.

Running thoughts through his mind, they gradually narrowed down on the present situation. Conflicting memories of the same day, the same moment, subsided. What was she watching for? She was waiting downstairs for something.

None of this was truly important. But it was something to think about. Something other than the chaos of his mind. With those thoughts locked in place, Krevster hauled himself from his chair and strode purposefully to the door.

Click, click-click. Click.

'Thank you for your patience.' he called out as the heavy bolts fell out of place. 'Allow me to guide you in before you try and enter.'

The door opened slightly, only slightly. Prevented from opening further by Krevster's armoured boot braced just behind the door. The bulk of Krevster's body was held back from the door, and his sword was held low, ready for a quick parry.

With but an instant, information about weapons had been taken in. A rapier could be seen, a more nimble weapon than a long sword but little threat to Marn standard-issue body armour. That was enough to have him at his ease.

Now it was her move.

[Alalia Morrigan]

The figure allowed her sword to drop back into its sheath, making a faint clicking noise as the hilt hit the metal rim of the scabbard. She withdrew her gloved hand from her cloak and dropped it to her side. If it was necessary, she would fight the guard, but had no interest in doing it when he was most of the way behind a door with a sword in his hand. She would rather do it in the dead of night when his back was turned. She was a formidable opponent, but she didn’t take chances.

“If I wanted to cause you harm, I would have done it while you were walking up here,” she said simply. “There’s enough noise down there that no one would have heard your dying gasps.” With that, she lowered her hood. Her strange slit pupils stared out from the midst of green irises that glinted and reflected light oddly. Pointed cat ears stuck up from auburn waves that were pulled out of her face into a ponytail. Her lips were curled in a slight smirk, revealing pointed canines.

“So, are you going to allow me in, or will you make me stand out in the hall all night?”

[Shadowsong]

Click, click. Click.

The door opened further and the point of the broadsword poked the edge of the doorframe and withdrew quickly. There was a whoosh as a steel blade scythed down the opposite edge of the doorway. And hit nothing, that was the idea.

'No one would hear my dying gasps, or yours for that matter. And it seems you are approaching this as cautiously as I am.' The soldier had yet to change expression at the cat-woman's appearance. 'Come in. Take a seat.' instructed the warrior hospitably, stepping back from the door. 'You can call me Darkheart.'

'I wanted to know about the cemetary. Specifically the old battlemages tombs.' For some reason a chessboard came to mind at this moment. What followed was a gentle reminder that his sword was still out. Aware of how undiplomatic that could be, Darkheart slid the sword back in it's sheath.

[Alalia Morrigan]

The cat-girl didn’t even flinch as the guard’s sword sliced through the air in front of her. In fact, she simply looked bored by the threat. Her tail slipped out from her cloak, moving back and forth lazily as though it had a mind of its own and was also unimpressed. Stepping into the room, she turned slowly as she did so she would be facing Darkheart, as she was to call him, at all times. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the man, well, no, yes it was.

“As promised, my name is Alalia Morrigan,” she said, remaining standing despite the offer of a chair. Her strange eyes flicked about the room, but she always kept the guard in her peripheral vision. She had no intention of being attacked unawares, especially in a room with little chance of escape. She knew her blade wouldn’t pierce his armor, and the only way to get through to flesh would be to slide her blade into the gaps between the plates when he attacked. She didn’t like those chances.

“Does the government know one of its own is toying with magic?” she asked, slightly surprised by the sort of information Darkheart wanted. “I would think they would generally frown on that sort of thing, what with all the mage raids and anti-magic laws.”

[Shadowsong]

OOC: it wasn't my sword that slashed down the doorway...it was a blade trap set on the door, I triggered so it wouldn't accidently eviscerate you on the way in.

Progress. At last.

'Pleased to meet you, Alalia Morrigan.' It was a shame she ignored the chair. Little courtesies could be nice sometimes, and it was pleasant when they were appreciated. The fact that she was always keeping him in sight was noted as well. Granted he was doing the same but he would still have preferred a more relaxed conversation.

'And what makes you think this isn't to do with that?' Darkheart asked, referring to the mage raids and anti-magic laws. 'Officially we know the cemetary is a hot point for magic. It would make sense for a guard to make checks for signs of necromancy, would it not?' Chances are she wouldn't believe a word of it. She didn't need to. It wasn't meant to decieve her.

The chessboard came to mind once more. The balance of power in the room would shift if he could not justify his interest. As it was he had managed to defend a piece.

'So what help can you be and do you much care about my reasons?'

[Alalia Morrigan]

Alalia gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. “So, if you already know that it’s a hot point, why don’t you guards just charge in and haul everyone off?” she asked, her voice low and seemingly uninterested. “I’ve watched how the city handles illegal mages. They send a bunch of men with all the firearms they can carry, surround the place, then yell until the mages surrender or blast them until there’s nothing left but a pile of rubble. They don’t send a single guard to check for signs of magic, especially not an ancient magic like necromancy. Most guards wouldn’t know magical residue from dustbunnies.”

The cat-girl flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder. “I’d just like to know what you’d do with any information I could give you,” she added innocently. “I don’t intend on being arrested for telling someone the wrong thing for the wrong reasons. They’d probably hand me over to the government mages for experimentation.”

Alalia knew that she was a rarity. She was a construct, a combination of raw materials and black magic created to move about and act like a living thing. It took a great deal of power to animate one, and even more to make sure it would retain its life force. She was sure if the battle mages got a hold of her they would be eager to find out what made her work.

[Shadowsong]

In return was a look that stated she was not expected to believe him. 'One, who is there to haul off? Two, it is a hot point of magic that hasn't done anything yet. Three, don't worry about being arrested for saying the wrong thing for the wrong reasons, no one needs an excuse to hand you over to the battlemages; your mere existance as a magical creation is enough.' Maybe the point was made. No need to push it into intimidation.

Stepping back surruptitiously (out of stabbing distance), Darkheart pulled his arms back and stretched. When the stretch was over, he stepped back to his usual distance, fairly mindful of personal space.

'As you well know, sometimes we get orders for no better reason than someone important wishes it. Apparantly I am to search the cemetary. I have only guidelines of what to look for. These I will not share in case you get ideas concerning the black market.'

That sounded reasonable, and was a none-too-subtle reminder that she had yet to convince anyone of her good faith. It was entirely possible that she was just wasting his time. Of course, in the past few minutes she had given him plenty of leverage to use, but the cat-girl obviously (very obviously) had her pride and there was no reason in taking that from her.

A moment later, quickly, he glanced towards her tail, 'Are you ok?' he asked, eyes returning to meet hers.