Action: The Hakseer (NSFW)

[The Dread King]

Sar'geth replied, "I've been used to wearing both plate and mail; I was a noble in previous centuries. Whilst armour does not hinder my...abilities...as such, it does irritate my senses. I'm more comfortable in lighter armour, though my powers aren't diminished in plate. I suppose plate would be a better choice for me in terms of protection; however, I haven't been as rich as I'd like to be for some time, so I don't currently possess any set of plate or mail. It is also louder than mail, unless well-made, which could counter the purposes of some of my powers: might we be able to acquire more...discreet armour? Preferably of the highest level of protection; however, I intend to be silent at times in combat, and a loud clash of metal on metal could render the possibility of stealth impossible in combat."

The vauvalka then continued, "Sailors don't ask questions, when they are paid enough. Kourla gave them orders from Viseryn to leave me be, and if that blood-mad dreadlord intends to preserve someone, what kind of fool would hope to challenge him and die a quick death? The only corsair who had a full understanding of what I was doing didn't live to tell the tale. He had a sudden change of heart..." Sar'geth laughed sadistically, "...which proved to be his undoing."

 

[Count Vashra]

Karochi nodded, annoyed that he had misinterpreted what was happening. Still, he decided to cut his losses and do what he was told, and certainly no more speaking. He drew his blades, and held them in a threatening position, at a distance far enough behind not to be interfering for now, but close enough to leap into action if required. He looked at Rythia's conversation with the trader with interest. he inwardly cursed when he realised that his fellow retainer had a relationship a little more intimate than useful, but decided it would be best to remain silent. he had never been planning to bed her, anyway. After seeing her conversation with the other swordsman, he'd realised that she had a quick temper, and a habit of stepping beyond the boundaries. Not his elf.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith stopped his mount at the gate and looked down at the elf stationed outside it, a low ranking guard.

The 'courier' slapped his messanger bag as he spoke.

"I've a Message here from the Vaulkhar." he said in a rough growl so at different from his own Silibant whisper of a voice, however voice disguising came naturally after a few centuries practice.

"I'm expected, open the damn gates." he commanded imperiously.

The Assassin hoped that either the guard knew about the presence of the Vaulkhar's retainer Daereon or was low-ranking enough that he wouldn't dare impede an official mounted messenger.

 

[Malochai]

The guard glared back at Arkeith challengingly, black eyes staring hatefully. He slammed the body of his spear onto the front of his shield and the gates opened, revealing a black tunnel with a circle of light at the other end. From hidden doors, two other guards - this time in the livery of the Vaulkhar - emerged, their faces hidden by masks of silver similar to the nightmasks commonly worn by highborn in Hag Graef, and they stood as still as statues as the gate guard began to speak again.

"The Vaulkhar has been called into the city on important matters; you are to give your letter to the retainer he has left to oversee such matters."

When the Khainite reached the courtyard at the end of the tunnel, two slaves rushed forward to take his steed, and then he was left alone in the large, shadowy yard.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith give a quick nod at the guard as he passed into the tunnel, frowning behind his mask at the arrival of the silver masked guards.

Where they informed of my arrival? he thought as wondered if Daereon might be a little more subtle than his younger brother had appeared so far.

'I've created a rather poor impression of the Targarys family from initial observation of my master...that might be dangerous.' the Assassin suddenly realised with regret, he would have to forget such thoughts as underestimating others was a quick way to one's death.

Once in the courtyard Arkeith dismounted and swiftly snatched the messenger bag from his horse as the slaves took the animal away.

Alone now the Khainite let out a frustrated hiss.

'No directions? Incompetence of such a scale I have never known.' he thought to himself with annoyance.

With a shrug he strode towards the entrance at the end of the courtyard, planning to grab the first slave he saw and demand directions to the Vaulkhar's retainer's location.

 

[Shareya]

Rythia and her companion found themselves going from slaver to slaver and not even once was the noble close to being satisfied with what was offered. At times the slave was too short, her teeth where bad, her body carried too many scars or she simply was too broken. Karochi might have even found himself wondering if they will ever find someone that would satisfy the female as time was ticking away so very quickly.

"Such low trash." The words where hissed out once Rythia returned from a new merchant who managed to disappoint her. "The pleasure houses have first pick when it comes to young and higher quality slaves here, frustrating."

Yet again the young retainer moved her hand to her forehead to rub her delicate pale skin. Naturally they could return to their Lord with a lesser servant but that just might earn them both some form of punishment or at least a disappointing frown what can be even worse. But when all hope seemed lost the nobles lightly painted lips drew back into a dangerous grin and her gaze jumped to a new slaver.
The new one was quite different compared to the rest. Instead of armor he wore fine clothes made of delicate silk while being surrounded by at least eight heavily armed guards and the reason why he boasted such defenses where easily seen behind him. The slaver dealt with captured Asur.

"My sweet Karochi. How far are you willing to go to please our Lord?" The elves words where yet again so very sweet.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith was...unsure perhaps? Well he definitely wasn't lost in any case but the halls were beginning to look all alike.

"Stupid fortress." he thought to himself glaring at the dreary corridor halls.

Hearing something behind him the assassin spun around to find himself staring at a pretty tall female human.

"A slave."

Arkeith grinned as his hand lashed out to grab the girl by the throat, he took a moment to admire her beauty and found himself impressed at the quality, although this was the Drachau's palace.

Releasing his hold gently he stepped back, despite his grip he had been careful not to bruise the human's pale skin.

"I have a message for the Vaulkhir. Where is his retainer?" he hissed.

The girl stared at the ground before giving the elf directions and finishing with a 'Dread Lord' which caused Arkeith to sneer at her foolishness although he had to admit she spoke the language well...for a lesser species.

Spinning he strode off in the direction that the girl had mentioned, hopefully towards Daereon.

And if not he'd find and flay the woman.

 

[Malochai]

With a hateful glare the slave turned the other way down the corridor and strode purposefully through a door to the slave tunnels. From there, she passed the few things she was carrying to another slave and quickly made her way along narrow, roughly hewn corridors, climbing up and down spiralling stairs until she eventually came to the door which led to the underground kitchens of the vaulkhar's tower. With a flash of a piece of parchment - emblazoned with Daereon's sigil - she passed quickly up the stories, showing it to the guards who would have barred her way.

Eventually, she paused before a large door of blackoak bound with steel strips and composed herself, hooking her hair over her left ear and smoothing the unflattering hemp dress, the only true garment she possessed. With a shaking hand, the slavegirl knocked once on the door, which was opened by a guard wearing the same as those who had emerged at the palace's gate. When he saw the warrant, he stood aside silently to reveal Daereon at a desk, surrounded by books. The walls were lined with shelves and interspersed with weapons and whips, the tools of a beastmaster. The hadrilkar he wore was hidden by the expensive robes and armour he wore.

When the guard moved aside, he looked up and saw the slave. He raised an eyebrow and beckoned to her.

"Speak, Yvette," he said gently, his piercing amethyst eyes staring intently at her.

"Yes, dreadlord. It as as you said - there is one seeking you within the palace. I gave him the directions as you demanded I should, if he ask. He will be here in a few minutes, I am sure." The beastmaster smiled, and nodded.

"Well done. You have done well; you shall attend us as I talk to this messenger." As the slave moved around to kneel beside the druchii, he called to the guard on the door, "Rana! Have the other guards stand down, apart from Meltinir, Mormac and Singal, and place them on the main door. Have Singal escort our guest when he arrives."

"Very good, dreadlord," was the murmured reply, before he turned on his heel and exited the room to pass on the orders.

 

[Duke Danse Macabre]

*Scanning the crowds through a break in the throng of people he could begin to make out the stalls and forges of the Steel District*

Half Plate should sufice if you want to be "disscrete".
You would still have a breastplate and full plate on your forarms and shins, the rest would be a mixture of leather to bridge any gaps, plate mail for your thighs and upper arms in order to allow freedom of movement whilst remaining silent and wollen padding between any plates to muffle the sound if they catch.
Now as all the joins for your knees, groin and elbows would be leather it will allow you to move freeley with the maximum protection you could hope to have whilst remaining silent.

*Looking Sar'geth up and down*

Now with your preference for remaining silent i am going to assume you want to be able to slip past others notice.
So I am going to advise black tinted armour with a black cloth covering, traveling robes help here and of course a hooded cloak.
*Smirking behind his Helmet at Sar'geth's coment of the corsair*

Don't worry about wealth, we will all have more than enough by the time we return, besides, such a thing is fleeting in comparision to skill and ability.

 

[Count Vashra]

"I would do anything to please our Lord," responded Karochi. "You-or him-need only ask and I shall do tour-or his-bidding." Karochi knew that he had gotten of lightly, because if Rythia's temper had continued, he might still be standing dumbly. However, now he had realised Viseryn's intentions, he was in a better position to help, and it seemed Viseryn had not needed to worry about getting a cheap slave, Rythia was looking for the best ones.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith strode swiftly towards his destination, he frowned growing uneasy, he had used this method to infiltrate highly ranked officials fortresses, manors and palaces in the past but rarely had the directions he'd received from mere slaves been so accurate and precise.

In no time the Assassin stood outside a door to the vaulkhar's tower with a number of guards outside. The Druchii frowned and glanced at these men.

"These men must be Daereon's guards. They likely know at least as much as I." he thought glancing at them.

In that case.

Stepping closer he spoke softly in his normal, hissing, voice.

"I'm expected."

 

[Malochai]

Two of the guards stared implacably at Arkeith from behind their ornate, silver masks, shields held tightly to their bodies and hands resting lightly, but obviously, on the hilts of their swords. The third, Singal, nodded politely, and replied, "Indeed you are, Courier. As you no doubt know, the Vaulkhar is currently absent; I have been given orders to escort you to his chosen steward."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and opened the thick door behind him, standing aside to let the Khainite pass through before him. "After you, Courier. Follow the stairs until I say so."

Up they went, around and around as the stairs spiralled tightly in a protrusion which jutted from the side of the tower. Eventually, Rana stood before them and blocked their progress, and Singal spoke to him from behind Arkeith. Protocol followed, Rana stepped back and knocked once at the door. A voice behind it called out leisurely, and the druchii guard opened the door.

"The courier, as expected, dreadlord."

"Thank you. Dismissed." With a nod, the guard backed out of the door and closed it heavily behind him. Arkeith was finally alone with his lord's brother, bar the slave. Upon inspection, the druchii lord looked eerily similar to his younger sibling, but his presence was far different; he exuded a calm confidence and the kind of power that one cannot buy or earn, rather than the desire to prove himself which Viseryn seemed to display. It was almost as if he knew that, regardless of what the ex-Temple assassin tried to do, he would come out of it on top.

He raised an eyebrow. "I understand you hold a message for my lord. Official business, you see; it comes before the matter you are here to discuss, Arkeith."

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith removed his helmet, his brass eyes seeming to glow gold for a moment as the light caught them, he held it in the crook of his arm and nodded respectfully.

"Of course Dread Lord." he replied quietly.

Reaching into the messenger bag he pulled out the lone scroll inside, sealed for the Vaulkhar's eyes only.

Stepping closer to the table and sat the message down on it before stepping back again, he was surprised that he was still allowed to wear his sword and so he ensured that he remained outside of weapon's range to pay respect to the highborne.

As he waited for the other elf to finish his business with the letter he casually looked around the room. If he recognised the human slave the assassin give no sign of it as his face remained an emotionless mask.

 

[Malochai]

With a cursory glance, Daereon snorted and tossed the letter aside, onto a number of other, similar, correspondences. "As I thought," he muttered, an amused smile glancing off of his face, with a shake of his jet locks. When he straightened his face, the eldest surviving son of Rhaego Tagarys looked at Arkeith quizically. "Well, sit down. There's no need to stand to attention here; my brother must have put the fear of Khaine into you to be so rigid ... Or would that be your training? I would guess life in the Temple doesn't lend one to relaxing." His eyes flashed with amusement, but he didn't say any more, instead continuing with another topic. "Anyway, a glass of dreamwine? It's a fine vintage, pillaged from Ulthuan over a century ago. It cost me an arm and a leg, but for this dreamwine ... I would have sold my brothers. Shame two of them are dead. It would have been amusing. Granted, it's my fault they are, but nevermind.
"I would apologise, but seeing as I'm the host, I don't see why I should. I get talkative when I relax. See, despite what you are, I know that even if you kill me, I will be an offering to Khaine ... And you would be joining me soon after.
"As for the business I have with my brother, it appears my contacts weren't as thorough as they should have been. I was supposed to have some retainers for my brother ... I don't trust our father not to hire someone to kill him off. And I'm glad he sent you. Out of yourself, Sinthair, Rythia, Karochi, Tenril, Sar'geth and Tullaris, I would only trust you or Sinthair, and he had best remain with my foolish brother." He sighed and picked up one of the letters, which appeared to be hastily scrawled.
"I ask you, what was he thinking having you kill the corsairs on deck? Cailas, granted, was obviously meant to die in such a fashion, but the others could have done with a knife in the night. And taking Rythia to his bed! He's stupider than I thought. You're meant to be an advisor to him; why do you let him act so rashly?"

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith took a seat slowly, it was against his usual code to accept a seat and he disliked chairs but it seemed that it would be undiplomatic to refuse.

"Thank you but no Dread Lord, I do not drink." he replied in his usual whisper.

Arkeith didn't bother to question the highborne's knowledge of his Temple Training, it stood to reason that he would be informed on his younger bother's and father's activities.

"Dying after fulfilling a death-contract is acceptable." he added neutrally.

Arkeith listened silently to Daeron before bowing his head slightly.

"I do not command by Lord how to act, it is not my place. I am a mere knife. He has Nobility serving him, they could provide more wisdom than I." he answered carefully "He is...impetuous but he is young, I have faith than my Master will grow to be the Great Lord he is meant to be."

He waited for a moment but he glanced at his Lord's brother and wondered if perhaps the elf could offer advice so he continued.
"The young master is also headstrong. He punishes for the slightest whim and then casts the event aside, nothing would be gained and my ability to serve would be compromised."

"And I do not know if I could stay my hand at such insolence." a voice whispered in his mind but Arkeith banished it, denying such a possibility.

 

[Malochai]

"You're surprisingly adept at keeping your words as sweet as they could be. He's stupid, not impetuous, and needs true guidance. He needs control! And who better to teach that than yourself? You care not for the politics. Rythia attempts to subvert him to her control - she is unlikely to find a better match. Sinthair is as loyal as a broken dog; he'll serve as my brother wants, not as he needs. You ... I think you are smarter than that." The older druchii stood and peered out of the narrow window which overlooked the harbour, where the Bloodwrack could be seen. "I do not know how Rythia has done it - my contacts don't have that close an insight, and the slave they had was surprisingly unforthcoming. They did the best they could without showing they had attempted to, and scared her half to death so she won't speak, but ...
"My brother has always been ... Headstrong, as you say. I like to think I calmed him down somewhat, but that was only after I proved I was better than him. Prove yourself better, but do not shame him, and show that you're truly loyal. No doubt he wanted to prove that, despite Rhaego paying you, you are his, and he will do as he wants.
"And you have to try and find a way for him to release his bloodlust without alienating the crew; that's the last thing I need - if he dies, everything is ruined. The last two decades would have been fruitless. A true fight, on terms he hasn't set, will probably force some sense into him, but that might not be for weeks.
"The truth is, my brother was born to break beasts, not lead druchii, and he wasn't raised to do anything else. He hasn't the head or the heart for it, no matter what he tells himself. Here, take this; make sure it reaches him safely," he said, thrusting a package to the assassin. "I should have had live bodies for you, but the fools didn't hide their secrets well enough. They're dead. Ensure that doesn't happen to Viseryn, Assassin.
"Now, is there anything you want to ask of me before you depart?"

 

[Get of W'soran]

"I made my oaths to Lord Viseryn, not his father." Arkeith said, his voice going cold for a moment.

The assassin frowned.

"Your advice is wise sire but I spent centuries not thinking for myself. I do not understand how families view each other, I do not understand the true workings of politics...I simply do not understand society. I was taught about them but I have not experienced any of it. I am not sure if I have the ability to help your brother in such a way but I will try." he admitted.

Arkeith took the package from the Highborne and placed it in the messenger bag before continuing.

"But I can protect him."

Arkeith bowed deeply to Daereon, there where many things he would like to ask the other elf but little that would help him aside from fulfilling his curiosity.

Placing the helmet back on the Assassin strode to the door, he stopped with his handle on the door.

Glancing over his shoulder at Daereon he added "The guard patrol around the palace is extremely regular my lord. You might want to look into that."

Without waiting for a response the Khainite strode from the room.

 

[Malochai]

The guard Singal closed the door behind the Khainite and then strode to catch up with him, following closely. "You're no courier. There's something afoot here, and I swore my oaths to the Vaulkhar. Daereon has been manipulating him for some time; that is clear to those who see them together."

The guard grabbed Arkeith's arm and pushed him against the wall. "You're going to tell me what that bastard is up to."

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith sighed.

"This is unwise soldier." he whispered.

Beneath his cloak the Assassin pinched dagger between two fingers so that a flick of his wrist could pull the blade from it's sheath.

"Obey your Master's selected representative or face censure."

 

[Malochai]

"I obey the Vaulkhar, not the one he's foolish enough to trust. If there's a plot against my master, I'll find out," and then the guard started to pull his weapon from it's sheath, the weapon rasping loudly in the confined space.

(Get - rolled a 5 for Arkeith's reaction. Describe how you will)

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith stepped in swiftly, his left hand slapping down onto the hilt of Singal's blade, trapping the sword.

"Fool!" he hissed, at the close range his golden eyes where momentarily visible through his helmet's visor.

The Assassin pulled his dagger free and slammed it up and into the throat of the guard.

Arkeith held the elf tight but turned him as he bled so only small drops fell onto the khainite's armour.

Once Arkeith was sure that Singal was sure that he the guard was dead he carefully led him on the ground and removed his dagger, cleaning it on the corpse's cloak.

Sheathing his dagger he turned and strode away, moving as quick as he dared but not too swiftly that it would seem odd.


Once Arkeith reached the courtyard he called for a slave to bring his horse.

 

[Malochai]

Rana had heard the clash and slowly made his way down to where Singal lay, and shook his head ruefully as he kicked the body and muttered, "You always were a fool ..."

In the courtyard, after making him wait for five, nerve-wracking minutes, the jet black steed was brought before the Khainite, clearly freshly fed. It nipped at the slave with its cruel teeth and took off fingers, but ignored Arkeith as the reins were passed over.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith stroked the beast and stood close whispering a soothing prayer to Khaine that the temple taught to some of their agent's, the soft words designed to calm beasts.

"Hardly a true prayer." he thought ruefully attaching the messenger bag to the saddle.

Arkeith mounted up and kicked the horse into movement towards the tunnel towards the gate.

"First I'll leave and find somewhere to get changed into my own armour again and ditch the saddlebags. I'll then decide whether to ride to the pleasure houses or perhaps just back to the ship." he thought to himself.

 

[Malochai]

The guard on the gate, in the livery of the Drachau, said nothing as Arkeith passed by on the creature and the gates closed behind him with a resounding thud. The streets got narrower the further from the palace he got, and whilst there were slaves pursuing their duties, it was too early for the vast majority of highborn of the district to be up.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Arkeith rode leisurely down the street, he was now wearing his normal outfit having changed and got rid of the guard's armour without any problems.

The Assassin suddenly realised that there was no way he could take Bloodbath with him on the ship.

...

And then he realised he had named the beast already.

"Crap." he muttered.

Arkeith considered his options for a moment, brushing his hand against the pouch of gold and silver at his waist, it was the money he had been given for his new assignment by Rhaego and some of the money from before that.

Arkeith had little use for purchases.

"But is it worth it?"

Swinging down from the beast the Khainite walked around inspecting the Black Steed, when he was checking the animal's mouth it snapped at him and he slapped it gently around the side of the head.

"Surprising." he murmured.

The horse was...well the horse was exceptional, by far the best quality of any mount that Arkeith had ever used. More so it was a bad tempered but well trained beast which pleased the assassin greatly.

"That courier must have been of higher birth than I assumed." he wondered.

Remounting the Black Steed the Assassin turned the horse and rode of in a different direction, he still had time left before he was expected back.