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Post by Landis d'Ames nó Mandrake on Apr 8, 2011 23:41:15 GMT -5
[continued from here: terredange.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=lagonie&action=display&thread=7250&page=1]In the end, it proved to be easier than I had imagined to find someone who was willing to take my message to the messenger boy, and from there, to follow him to the viper's nest. It was...well, I suppose one could say that it was typical for an edifice that occupied Night's Doorstep--unkempt, the sort of place where everyone looked askance and pretended that nothing untoward was happening in their midst. Somehow I had imagined Aleron would have chosen a location that was a tad more...luxurious...at least at first glance. Now that we had found the place, I parted with my two companions to seek out the guards, trusting that they would not make a mess of things in my absence. We--the costumed man and I, at least--had the same goal in mind: find Cosette and free her from the clutches of her captors, after that, well, we still had time to think about what we would do after that.
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 9, 2011 12:40:28 GMT -5
I walked with them, all the while wondering what it would be like to see Cosette in any condition. She wouldn't recognize me, and I couldn't let her know it was me.
We had to wait, and I grew inpatient, not that I would be hasty, but because I saw no sense in what we were doing.
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Post by Samael Basmala on Apr 9, 2011 14:35:56 GMT -5
Fresh trails were always easier to follow, and a messenger boy with a message in his hands and a coin already in his pocket has never failed to make a good, straight one.
The place was no different than any other within the slums. Messire Landis had opened the way, and now it was left to the masked stranger and I to follow through. In all, I was glad messire had left for safer endeavors.
I could feel the impatience bleeding off the stranger like fear-sweat off a foal; I did not acknowledge it, it was not my business to know the how of why of his involvement, and it was most certainly not my desire.
I watched the boy, and spoke softly once messire had gone to get the guards, to the masked stranger . "Once the door opens to welcome the boy, we can force our way in past him, but we have no way to know if there are guards to sound the alarm. Or we can go around the building, find the servants' door, and move in quietly, silencing them as we go. Decide."
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 14, 2011 10:52:29 GMT -5
"The latter seems best," I said. "Either way does gives us the element of surprise, but the latter will give us a bit more time to see what we need to do." In all honestly I wanted to rush in, but haste never benefitted any one.
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Post by Samael Basmala on Apr 14, 2011 21:47:58 GMT -5
The moment the man answered I was moving, jackal-quiet. The slums were always full of noise, as all such places are, and no one cared to look too closely at one or two more skulking shadows.
"Remember, then, that it is your choice to be patient."
If the house was anything like Messire Landis', there would be people coming in and going out, adding to the midden and emptying water buckets, the last preparations before bedtime. It would be nothing to find one such man or woman, disable them and use their way in as ours.
In truth, they might be safer waiting out whatever might happen in the midden.
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 16, 2011 17:22:50 GMT -5
I crept along behind him, silently, boots treading softly along the hard pack dirt. I loaded my small crossbow and slid my dagger in the sheath on my wrist. I kept behind him waiting to see what his next plan would be.
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Post by Cosette de Manon on Apr 18, 2011 9:55:12 GMT -5
Aleron had moved from me and was fastening his breeches when his head popped up, his eyes wild. He glared at me as if I'd done something wrong, but I knew not what I'd done, and so I simply watched him. He said nothing but turned toward the door at the soft knock, and someone handed him a piece of parchment. He slammed the door quickly and breathed hard as he opened it, and when he read it he simply laughed. "So, this is what your friend sends to negotiate your release?" He spat cruelly, waving the parchment. "This means nothing. He knows I've won. Now the whore will have no choice to give me what I deserve!"
What he deserves? What does he deserve? I wondered to myself, but didn't have time to reflect on it as he came close to me once more and wrapped his fingers around my neck. "And you, my little songbird, are my trophy. The thing that I took that means more to him than anything!" He crowed triumphantly. At that, I snorted. Nonsense; I didn't mean 'everything' to Landis; hells, I didn't mean 'everything' to anyone. Not since Ansel, and possibly not even then. It was something I had learned to live with.
Aleron's eyes narrowed at my snort and his fingers tightened. "Something funny?" He asked quietly, his eyes taking on the look I had come to dread. "Little songbird, I will not be made a fool of. I believe I shall have to teach you a lesson." He let go of my neck and took my manacle-bound wrists in his hand, taking my left pinky in his long, slim fingers. "Now now, look at this; such a pity that you've got such a deformity. But now you are asymmetrical; I believe your other pinky needs a matching look, don't you think?" He said pleasantly, as if he were carrying on a conversation over tea about the weather. I began to shake as he moved, and he stood up and opened the door, calling to someone. A moment later, he spoke softly once more and shut the door, locking it and barring it with that ridiculously flimsy chair once more. When he turned, I could see something glinting in his hand. Oh, gods....
He raised the cruel-looking knife with a grin. The blade was not long, but it had a row of gruesome-looking teeth on it; it was serrated. For cutting through bread... Or bone. "Now, songbird, you must hold very still. You wouldn't want to lose more than the tip of that finger, would you?" And, with that, he held my hand very still while he began with the other hand, to abrade my skin.
I had never screamed so loud, so high-pitched, or so long; nothing had ever hurt so badly in my life. When I had gleaned my original injury, I had been unconscious. Not now. I thrashed out with my legs, which had previously been tucked in front of me, and felt an even worse pain as Aleron lost his balance and fell forward. When I glanced down, all I could see was blood, and my vision turned hazy. I knew I had to stop my finger from bleeding, and so I took my shift in my hand and, grimacing at the pain it caused me and letting out another scream as I squeezed, I tore a large chunk of fabric from my shift and wrapped my finger in it, my entire body shaking as I tried to stop the bloodflow. I knew the tip of that pinky was gone as well, and not nearly as neatly as the left. I could see it on the floor in the pool of blood, jagged edges and little flakes of bone surrounding it in the dark, warm liquid. Aleron looked up and, noticing the nub of my finger on the floor, he grinned. "Well, songbird, you are evenly matched now," He said quietly.
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Post by Samael Basmala on Apr 20, 2011 16:36:14 GMT -5
In truth, I had no faith that the stranger would keep to his decision. From what I'd see of them, D'Angelines ran too hot all of the time, they never seemed to know when to use ice instead of fire in their anger. I would simply have to take whatever came to me from him.
I did not know, nor did I want to know, who he was, or the why or how of the mask or his involvement. Like my service at Messire Landis' home, I wanted to remain ignorant of all that was not a threat to my employer, simply because in this land, unlike in my own, such ignorance did afford a measure of protection.
It was no matter to find a boy coming in and out of a shabby back door, protection in and of itself only because it seemed so unimportant. But by location, it had to belong to the place we needed to breach. The boy himself seemed hard put to place any attention on his surroundings, and wandered away dragging his feet to whatever chore he'd been tasked with. In a few quiet steps I'd caught the door before it closed, and slipped inside, holding it open for the stranger.
By scent, by sound and sight, I could tell we were alone, though how long that would last was anyone's guess.
The suddenness of a woman's scream silenced the house. In a manner, I counted it a blessing: no one who could afford to be elsewhere would want to be anywhere near the source of such sounds, and it would allow us easier, undiscovered passage. But how my companion would respond to it, I could only wait and see.
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 21, 2011 12:46:56 GMT -5
I knife sliced the air, a scream that deadened the ears. It was clearly Cosette and the sound filled me with pity for her and rage for the one who caused it. My muscles tensed and the glare on my face grew even harsher. It was all I had to fight the urge to barge in and slice them up good. "I think we can go a little faster!" I growled under my breath.
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Post by Samael Basmala on Apr 22, 2011 21:16:51 GMT -5
The man was going to get himself killed with his impatience, and I would not be a part of it. I would do my duty for Messire Landis, but I would do it without letting emotions get in the way.
I stepped back, flat against a wall, and gestured to the hallway leading deeper into the house. "Then by all mean, messire. You lead the way."
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 23, 2011 11:53:57 GMT -5
I nodded, though I could not help but smirk at his position against the wall. I slowly pulled out my dagger and kept my crossbow dangling from my opposite wrist. Crouched, I walked silently but quickly down the hall.
No one.
Down another we went and I began to hear subtler movements. I raised my bow and peeked around the corner.
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Post by Cosette de Manon on Apr 23, 2011 12:14:47 GMT -5
I was still gasping, my entire hand up to my forearm throbbing in pain. I knew the blood was still flowing, but I'd tied the cloth around my finger and hand as best I could. There were already four or five wads of my shift in bloody little heaps on the floor around me and my shift was slowly becoming shorter and shorter. Aleron, for his part, simply sat in the chair that had been under the door, a far-off look in his eyes. I didn't care; all of my attention was focused on stemming the blood flow from my finger. "Gods," I whimpered absently, the pain so bad that I couldn't stop crying. Ragged sounds came from me as my hand twinged and ached and stung and burned all at once.
Aleron laughed and I glared at him. He looked at me indulgently. "What's wrong, songbird?" He sneered. "Can't handle the pain? But you are a friend of that whore's, I would think you would enjoy the pain. The sight of your own blood."
"Well, that 'whore' will not let this go unpunished," I spat to him while winding another piece of my shift around my finger. "I suggest that you find something to stem the bloodflow before I bleed out and then you will have nothing to hold over his head."
His eyes turned cold and he moved over to me. I knew I was in for something considering my words, and when his hand rose I ducked instinctively. He would have none of that, and so my chin was forced up so that the back of his hand could crash into my face like a brick. I yelped out in pain, too exhausted and weak to try and keep silent, and fell to the floor. My hands moved of their own accord to catch me and my right pinky landed first, which prompted another loud scream from me as I fell onto my side, clutching my hand. He simply smirked and moved to sit in his chair against the outside wall of the room, almost under the barred window. I sobbed as I began anew, winding the gauze around my fingertip.
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Post by Samael Basmala on Apr 29, 2011 2:27:36 GMT -5
I mistrusted this whole situation, as well as the company the fates had seen fit to saddle me with for it. The screams, at least, told me that we were in the right place, the voice that of the Skillet Maid. Her name had fled me once again; perhaps if she were to be a regular visitor to Messire Landis after this, I should make some effort to remember it.
I kept my counsel and my patience, staying behind the masked man and following as he led. If there were servants or attendants in the house, they had found duties away from the screams, but not for a moment did I cease scanning my surroundings; this man had a personal stake on the hunt, and such things tend to blind the best hunter to traps and ambushes. I would not let his emotions be the death of me.
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Post by Ansel Roux on Apr 29, 2011 9:46:21 GMT -5
I was glad, if it is right to use that word, that the companion was doing such a good job of keeping an eye out. I wanted to thrust in like a scorpions stinger, leave the enemies paralyzed, and take Cosette away, far, far, away.
We made it to the door without incident and I bent low to look through the crack, motioning for the other to look as well.
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Post by Samael Basmala on May 5, 2011 13:30:36 GMT -5
I wondered as the masked stranger gestured if he'd ever seen the game of Needles played. I shook my head briefly, willing to take as a given that he knew whether we'd found the right place or not.
It still remained to be seen whether the door was locked or not. I half hoped it were - a simple knock, and messire the attacker would have to come see who was at it. Servants knock, enemies do not.
I gestured in inquiry at the stranger, waiting to see how he wanted to handle this.
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