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Post by Tandar on Jan 15, 2010 23:29:29 GMT -5
The tall man in a midnight blue tunic and cloak with white leggings stepped off the ship in La Rivage and made his way through the crowded streets. He moved with an air of purpose and an impassive face. When someone blocked his path he gave them a cold, impassionate look and they quickly moved away without saying a word.
His steel blue eyes surveyed the crowd, aware of every person around him and what they were doing. He scanned the windows, the roof tops and the alleys as he passed, all without moving his head or betraying his surveillance.
He entered the livery and rented a mean-spirited, fast horse. He ignored the chatter of the stable man as the horse was saddled and bridled. He loaded his supplies behind the saddle, checked his weapons again, fingering the garrote around his waist hidden behind his belt. He considered using it on the stable hand, just to shut the man up, but that was not his way. This man was an innocent and he did not kill for sport, he killed because God willed him to do so. He nodded to the man as if he had heard every word and gave the man a silver piece, then mounted the horse and spurred it out into the city streets.
He didn’t have time to waste on the stableman or the crowds anyway. He had a mission to fulfill and very little time to accomplish it before his target went into hiding again. He finally made it out the city’s north gate and headed off into the countryside, his mind running over the crimes his target had done as he headed for a little village near a Chateau called Montsombre.
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Post by Tandar on Jan 26, 2010 11:01:49 GMT -5
The man in midnight blue dismounted his mean little rental horse who tried to bite him in that vulnerable moment when he was kicking his foot out of the stirrup. He shoved the horse’s head away from him and pulled out a white monk’s robe. He quickly slipped it on over his weapons and other clothing, adjusting the blade in the scabbard on his back so he could easily draw it, but settling the cowl of the hood to cover it up, and cover his hair.
That done, he remounted and rode into the little village and up to the stables at the Inn. He put the horse up in a stall and strode back out into the street looking for a familiar face. He spotted him at the end of the street, a man dressed just as he was. He approached and they greeted each other quietly, with a special handshake.
They saw a woman emerge from a shop and make her way to the Inn and noticed the streets were emptying as the local peasants hurried home to hearth and supper. Lex led them back to the common room for dinner and information.
They sat down in the corner of the Inn and a serving girl came over to take their order. Lex chatted with her, smiling and joking with her. She went back to the kitchen and he resumed his scanning of the layout of the common room.
The girl returned with their food and Lex stopped her a moment, “Miss, perhaps you can help us. We have some news of a personal nature about a young woman’s family that we must impart in person. The woman entered here not long before us. You wouldn’t happen to know what room she is staying in, would you?” He said with concern and smiled at the young girl hopefully.
The girl looked wary at first and glanced at the stairs and then the innkeeper. She leaned over to Lex and whispered, 2nd floor, 3rd door on right, but I am not supposed to give out information like that.” She looked fearfully at the Innkeeper.
Lex patted her arm and then mad the sign of the cross in front of her, kissing his fingers he placed them on her forehead. “Bless you my child. God will reward you for the kindness you have done me this day. Go with a peaceful heart.”
The serving girl smiled at him, “Thank you, Father!” she said and scurried back off to the kitchen.
Lex winked at his friend and dug into his meal while it was still hot.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
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Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Jan 29, 2010 19:10:18 GMT -5
Theresa's eyes stayed closed, but she shifted so her fingers could close upon the hilt of one of the knives fastened to her body. She turned from her meditative state, focusing on the soft padding of footsteps coming up the stairs. There seemed to be two of them, one much lighter than the other - more than likely, a parent and their child. The sound of their voices - one high pitched asking for a bedtime story, the other deep, asking of which to tell - further confirmed her thoughts, but nevertheless, as they passed by her baracaded door, their silhouettes making shadows underneath the frame, she slid the blade half-way out of its sheath, waiting for them to attack. They never did and within moments, she was back in her meditative state, her fingers still resting upon the knife's handle.
She would not sleep until Liason was dead; neither would she take time to sit down to eat. Lost in her memories, she simply ran on what she had, shoving herself to the limit to where she either died from sheer exhaustion or from another's blade, or was somehow dragged out of her mind's hellhole. She wasn't sure how it was accomplished last time, nor even that it actually had been. Her thoughts were focused solely on this nightmare, reliving the disaster that had begun with the torturing deaths of her three-man team.
She opened her eyes then, staring blankly at the ceiling as their voices faded in the shadows of her conscious, blaming her, fueling her onward, driving her insane. Minutes passed by as she went without blinking, simply waiting for the sun to rise - and for Liason to come to town.
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Post by Tandar on Feb 7, 2010 0:01:04 GMT -5
One of the priests rose from his seat and gulped down the last swallow of water in his cup. "Make sure you knock first," he reminded the other white-robed fellow. Setting the empty cup on the table, he exited through the front door. A pair of patrons reverently made way for him. He circled around to the stable and approached the skittish roan he had rented in La Rivage. The friar frowned as it danced sideways at the sight of him. The horse was still saddled and ready to ride; the priest didn't plan to stay very long. Kevin reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a torch, some flint, and a piece of folded parchment. * * * * * On the back side of the inn, Kevin stood under the branches of a tall tree, his eyes flicking back and forth between the upper floor windows and a crude sketch on the parchment in his hand.
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Post by Brandwyn on Feb 22, 2010 17:11:50 GMT -5
After a slow count to ten after his friend left, the other priest stood and lay a silver coin on the table. He straightened his robes and then headed for the stairs to the private rooms above. He went up to the second floor and stopped before the third door on the right. He put his ear to the door and listened for a moment, but could not hear any sounds of movement inside.
Pulling his katana from his scabbord across his back hidden under his white priest robe, Alex Carpenter cleared his throat and in a loud, clear, tenor voice he said as he pounded on the door, "Open up! Open up in the name of God or perish in the fires of hell."
He stepped to the side of the door, his sword poised for action and waited for the occupant to burst out of the room.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
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Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Feb 24, 2010 13:13:35 GMT -5
Hours before dawn, Theresa's period of rest was rudely shattered as a pounding started on the door adjacent to her own. She immediately straightened into a sitting position upon the bed, bringing her feet lightly to the floor. She'd managed to bribe a single male into switching rooms with her for the night, figuring it'd be much easier than bribing each of the barmaids downstairs. The man was of average height with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes and though he had thought her offer weird, money was money, so he had made the switch readily enough.
Knowing she didn't have much time left, for she doubted the man would keep information about her for long, she quickly made her way to the window and drew it open.
"Open up! Open up in the name of God or perish in the fires of hell."
The person that those words were meant for, didn't even bother turning around as she crept out the window and onto the roof hanging over the front entrance of the inn. There was only a mere ten feet of wood to keep anyone on the front steps safe from the calmer weathers of drizzling rain and sticky heat, but it was plenty enough for her to turn around and shut the window behind her. She'd left a chair in front of the door so it wasn't as if they wouldn't come to the logical conclusion of her slipping out the window, but the gesture had been a habitual one that she hadn't thought to break.
Seeing no one outside, she dropped from the roof-like ledge to the ground below, straightening as she cast her gaze around her once again. Her walk was casual as she headed around to the side, making her way to the barn with thought to steal a stead. Her eyes flashed once again, this time noting a man in a white robe standing at the back of the inn, facing away from her. On the surface, she paid him no heed, but her fingers strode lovingly to a blade hidden at her thigh as she continued her stride to the barn doors.
She slipped inside, careful to not make any noise so as not to snag the attention of the priest, and found a horse already strapped and ready for riding. Despite her 'luck,' no smile played upon her lips, only a blank stare of cold vengence to the man named Liason. He would either pay for what he did to her team or finish what he had set out to do.
Theresa quickly seated herself amongst the saddle, taking care to dodge the snap of the horse's teeth as she did so, and casually rode him out of the barn as if she owned him. Her eyes strayed across her path though her head did not turn, and as she rode away from the end, she made sure to keep her ears peeled for any sounds of a follower. She did not think she had yet been spotted, but then, that priest at the back could've been more than what he seemed.
Normally, she would've stayed behind to see who had an interest in her, but she wasn't of sound mind, nor did she care enough about anyone/-thing except for Liason. He would pay deerly for what he'd done. She swore it on her family's graves.
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Post by Tandar on Mar 24, 2010 19:14:15 GMT -5
Hearing the muffled sound of Carpenter shouting, Biton mentally counted the seconds as they passed. Thirty. His eyes hadn't left the window, and still no movement had caught his attention. Instinctively, he turned the flint over in his hand. Perhaps a little smoke would encourage Teresa to cooperate. Kevin knelt on the grass and planted the torch in the ground. He drew a large, shiny knife from a scabbard at his waist and proceeded to strike the piece of flint. Once. Twice. The sparks flew everywhere, some missing the torch while others were simply too weak to ignite anything.
Kevin repositioned the torch to better catch the sparks, but before he stuck the flint a third time, he froze, his eyes focused on the knife. By the dim light of the stable lantern, he could make out the reflection of a figure leaving the building. He turned and caught a glimpse of a woman riding off into the night. Biton bit back a curse and scowled as he recognized his rented horse. The target was disappearing. He had to think fast.
If Mort had accompanied the pair to Gallica, he could have covered the front of the inn, leaving virtually no safe exits. Unfortunately, Mort was in Araluen, probably pursuing other opportunities of interest. Carpenter and Biton were left to fix the rapidly deteriorating situation on their own.
A second later, the inn obscured Kevin's view of the target. He knew he could not chase her down. Teresa was mounted and had the advantage of speed, not to mention the long white robe Biton was wearing would greatly hinder him. However, there was a chance that he could cut off the target by taking the narrow alley behind the inn. It lead to the main street where Kryptos would most likely be since both sides of the street were lined with closed shops.
Sheathing the knife, Biton entered the confined alleyway and moved quickly. His leather boots barely made a sound on the rough surface, but he nearly tripped on the hem of the robe. He made a mental note to discuss the problem with the Fourth Assassin during their next meeting. Judging by the sound of hooves on the cobblestones, he was just ahead of the target.
The assassin stepped out into the street in front of the horse and rider and released the clasps on his robe. The thick, white garment, now stained by grass, dirt, and cobwebs, slid from the man's shoulders and landed in a heap on the ground, revealing an elaborate outfit underneath. His face remained shaded, now by a cowl sewn into the collar of an extravagant pale tunic. A pair of midnight blue stripes ran down the shirt to a rather curious belt buckle shaped like a triangle with arrowheads at the angles. The belt itself held a couple of covered pouches and was flanked by sheaths bearing throwing knives. Each of the assassin's thighs had a short sword strapped to it with the hilts positioned in easy reach. Rigid leather armor offered protection for his shins, shoulders, chest, and forearms.
"Mother Teresa."
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Post by Brandwyn on Mar 25, 2010 11:42:54 GMT -5
The door was yanked open suddenly as Carpenter raised the katana to defend an attack, but no attack came.
Instead there was a non-descript man staring bewildered at the sword wavering in front of his face. "W-What?" he croaked with a look of fear in his eyes.
"Where is she?" Carpenter scanned the room, without presented himself as a target from an arrow, but there was no sign of their quarry within. One of the barmaids stirred in the bed and sat up when she saw the sword and started to scream.
Carprenter pushed the man back into his room and strode to the window, casting an irritated look at the girl. "Shut up, woman!" and pointed his sword at her threateningly. She broke of in mid scream and scurried out the other side of the bed, not even bothering to cover her naked form as she fled from the room.
"Hey! You can't-" the man started to protest and Carpenter just gave him one look and he subsided. Carpenter turned back to the window and saw a slim figure leaving on a familiar horse.
He gritted his teeth in anger and yanked open the window, sheathing his katana in the same motion. He climbed out the window, onto the ledge and inched his way over to the corner of the building and dropped to the ground, rolling with the fall. His white robes marred by the dirt of the stable yard as he took off after the rider on foot.
"Mother Theresa."
Carpenter rounded the corner of a building, fearing he had lost her, when he was brought up short by the sight of the woman on the horse being hailed by Biton. He smiled. "Good job, Brother!" he said as he reached up and undid the clasp on his robes and they too fell in a pool around his feet revealing his midnight blue suede tunic that covered padded leather armor and bracers on his forearms. His legs were protected by grieves worn over tight fitting midnight blue suede pants with knee high leather boots that had a surprise built into their toes. Though they looked soft, the tips of the boots were stuffed with a somewhat triangular chunk of cast iron so that if he kicked someone, the impact would be greater than just with his feet alone.
He drew his katana and prepared to cut off Theresa's avenue of escape. He smiled coldly at the woman, "Would you like to hear the list of crimes you have been accused of?"
Though he felt that she was a sick woman, who had committed many of the crimes because she was unfit mentally, Carpenter could not feel all that sympathetic toward her. She had chosen a life of killing and taking from people and had been driven mad by it from the Intel they had gathered on her. She may not be in her right mind at the moment, but even in her right mind, she had still made the choices to kill. Many innocents had suffered at her hand. It was time for her to pay and for her victims to receive justice.
Carpenter waited, ready for anything and watched her very closely.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
:)
Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Mar 27, 2010 18:11:21 GMT -5
Teresa noted her surroundings as she road away from the inn and whoever was hunting her, taking in the multiple closed shops bordering her left and right sides. All of the shops were dark, save one and even as her eyes took in its position, the top floor light went out. The only sound issuing through the cool, night air, was the horse's own hooves; the only other movement, some animal sniffing through the trash by the butcher's shop. Then the beat of a bird's wings.
A hand went instinctively to her thigh where a dagger lay hidden and she nudged her feet out of the stirrups, itching to get out of her predictment. She sat on top of the horse, a clear target, easily outlined, to any bowman positioned atop of one of the surrounding buildings. She felt a strong urge to relax her body, allowing herself maximum movement with minimum energy required. Something had startled the critter, but before she could discern its reason for taking flight, a cloaked figure stepped from an alleyway and barred her path.
"Mother..."
And she relaxed.
"...Theresa."
The sound of footsteps came up behind her and she nudged the horse in such a position as to keep them both in her sights. Her back was now placed to a section of the closed shops, most noticably, the one whose light went out a sheer moment before.
"Good job, Brother!"
Her skin crawled; her stomach knotted; the thought of rushing past the first figure fled her mind; she slowly turned to face the second man. He smiled; she glared; they spoke at the same time.
"Would you like to hear the list of crimes you have been accused of?"
"Liason."
In one smooth movement, she'd pulled the knife out of the sheath at her thigh and with a flick of her wrist, sent it spinning for his hip. She didn't want to kill him yet; she wanted him to suffer first. But she didn't bother to watch the flight of its path; she didn't pay attention to it as soon as it left her hand, having already spurned the horse foward in a mad rush by plunging a thin blade into its quarters. She was forced to leave the knife behind as the animal lunged immediately foward, forcing her into action a second before she was ready.
As her left hand had unsheathed the knife at her upper leg, her feet had settled ontop of the stirrups and her right hand had slid a thin blade from her sleeve. She'd managed to push up from the stirrups a split second after throwing the first knife and a split second before she shoved the second one into the horse's flesh. She'd planned on using the beast's flight to give her the shove she needed to throw herself up and backwards and within reach of the overhang of the shop immediately behind her.
Unfortanetly, the horse had reacted a second faster than she'd calculated, making the force of its intended shove off kilter with her plans. Though she was still able to arch her back, twist, and throw out her hands to grap for the overhang, it was her chest that had taken the blunt of the blow. She struggled to breathe as she pulled herself over the ledge, but didn't bother to stop to catch her breath. With one weapon remaining and two possible candidates for murder, she didn't have the luxury. What she did have however, was a way to get more.
As expected, the occupant of the room above the shop came to see what had caused the loud thump on the overhang, and Theresa wasn't one to let such a golden opportunities pass. She lunged foward, the last knife wielded in one hand as the second reached for his shirt's collar. She stopped a second before grabbing it and yanking him foward to roll off the ledge, his face having not registered as a threat when compared to those in her memory, and instead shoved him backwards so she could come through. She shut the window behind her as she scanned the room and immediately made out the form of a sleeping boy.
Before the father could stop her, she yanked the kid out of bed and placed her knife at his throat. The parent didn't need a verbal warning to keep his distance and the child was too white to struggle.
"Please. Don't hurt him. I'll-"
"Block the window."
He immediately moved to follow her orders, his hands shaking as he did so.
The scrape of a bookcase across the floor followed her as she quickly made her way downstairs, knowing she had a very limited timeframe before the two men outside tried to force their way in. She released the kid who was too afraid to run and effectively helped herself to the arrangement of knives now at her disposal. She quickly hid four on her body before grabbing the kid and coming back up the stairs, stopping near the top.
The stairway was narrow so only one person could make their way on it at a time and with the kid guarding her front, she was covered on that side. Her small frame only helped matters further as the child, though probably no more than thirteen, was taller and wider than she. Her vision of the second floor was also completely unblocked as it was a simple single room.
She registered the only window, which was now effectively blocked, and the father coming toward her. She pressed the blade slightly at the boy's back, causing him to cry out and the father to become frozen in his tracks. His face clearly paled.
"You want to keep him alive, stop whoever tries to come through that window."
Unable to speak past the fear lodged in his throat, the father nodded and made his way to the bookcase after picking up a blunt object. Shaking, he waited to do as he was told.
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Post by Tandar on Apr 25, 2010 14:37:11 GMT -5
"Good job, Brother!"
Biton's eyebrows twitched briefly in annoyance. Not that he was ashamed or embarrassed to have Alex as a partner. Quite the opposite actually. Alex was a highly-skilled assassin and was more than capable of carrying his own weight. Kevin had always admired Carpenter's ability to move gracefully and silently as well as the air of importance with which he carried himself. The only other person Kevin would rather have at his side was the Fourth Assassin. Although his comrade's words were those of praise, Biton preferred to save compliments until after the target was terminated so as not to reveal any identifying information or "celebrate" a successful mission prematurely.
Several things happened in rapid succession. As soon as Biton saw the blade leaving Teresa's hand, he reached for a throwing knife of his own, but the horse bolted without a rider. The assassin was mildly surprised to see Kryptos hanging from a second-story ledge. He glanced at Carpenter to check on his condition. By the time his eyes darted back, Teresa had scaled the ledge and his line-of-sight was blocked by the hanging sign on the front of the shop. A moment later, she was through the window and out of sight.
Biton reluctantly replaced the throwing knife in its sheath and approached Carpenter. Eying the closed shutters, he spoke in a low voice.
"It looks like she's barricaded inside. I'll probably need a ram to force entry." The assassin's drifted from the window and came to rest on a fence next to the shop. "Help me get that fencepost up to the ledge, then you can take the front door."
Quickly, he moved to the side of the building and gauged the distance between the walls on each side of the alley. He nodded to himself, satisfied that they were not too far apart. Biton faced the opposite wall and took a couple of steps back. Taking a deep breath, he ran, kicking off the wall and boosting himself toward the shop. He grabbed onto a loose brick that stuck out farther than the rest and steadied himself once he found footholds on the side of the building. Kevin looked up and saw the ledge just above him. After a short lunge, his hands latched onto it, and he pulled himself up.
Biton tested the shutters by tugging on the edges slightly. The shutters, latched on the inside, didn't even budge. Tilting his head back, he scanned for a sturdy protrusion and spotted a thick horizontal rod made for hanging a large banner jutting out from the wall above him.
"Rope!" Kevin prompted in a low voice.
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Post by Brandwyn on May 5, 2010 20:37:10 GMT -5
The knife that was hurled at Carpenter thudded into his armor and he pulled it out and tucked it in his belt.
“Rope!” Carpenter heard his partner and quickly uncoiled 25 feet of silk rope from around his waist. He tossed one end up to Biton and then tied the other to the fence post.
They hefted the post up in place and Carpenter was satisfied Biton had that under control. He made his way back around to the front of the building and quietly turned the doorknob.
It was locked. He knelt down in front of it and pulled out his pouch. Extracting a small scrap of leather, he unfolded it and revealed a variety of tools. Selecting two that looked like very tiny awls, he proceeded to pick the lock.
In moments the door was unlocked and he pushed it open a hair to see if anyone was just on the other side.
The coast was clear so he slipped silently into the room. He heard voices above and no stirring elsewhere in the house, so he quietly slipped up the stairs, keeping to the shadows and moving silently.
As he neared the top, he saw their target speaking to an older man and hugging a protesting boy tight to her as a shield.
Alex stopped and studied the situation for a moment. How was he going to get to her without her killing the boy? He pulled the dagger she had tossed at him from his belt and prepared to throw it. He wanted her distracted by Biton’s efforts to get in the window however. As soon as Biton burst through the shutter, he would let his dagger fly, aiming at her exposed side.
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Post by Tandar on May 7, 2010 7:49:31 GMT -5
Biton deftly caught the end of the silk rope and tossed it over the banner hanger above him. Once Carpenter finished securing the post, Kevin nodded to him and began hoisting the makeshift battering ram up to the ledge. The metal hanger bent slightly under the stress, but it held.
After the fencepost reached a suitable height, Biton tied the working end of the rope to the suspended length to keep the ram from falling. He grasped it by two of the knots Alex had tied and maneuvered it close to the shuttered window. Giving it a few practice swings to build up momentum, he concentrated on his target.
Teresa would most likely be waiting just inside and a fight would probably ensue. Kevin had to be mentally prepared for an encounter because a mistake could prove fatal. He took a deep breath and put all the force he could muster behind the ram. The heavy weight smashed the shutters clean off the hinges and thudded into something solid. Biton briefly pulled the ram back to clear the splintered debris before sending it back into the bookcase, causing the piece of furniture to rock forward a little.
Bang! Bang! Bang! On the fifth swing, the damaged bookcase toppled over. Biton swung into the room feet first using the top of the window frame. As soon as his boots hit the hardwood floor, he ducked and narrowly avoided a brass candlestick holder that rushed through the airspace his head had occupied less than a second before.
Instinctively, Biton reacted, leaping sideways away from the attacker and rolling to his feet. The man responded with an overhand swing, barely giving Kevin a chance to recover. The move was meant to catch the assassin off guard, but he caught the man's weapon hand, twisted it as he forced it down, and jabbed the pressure point with his thumb. The candlestick holder dropped to the floor, rolling away on its round base. The assassin followed up the move with a strike to the throat. He turned the man around by the shoulder, twisting his weapon arm behind him, and slammed his face into the wall. Biton released the body, letting it fall to the floor as he turned his attention to Teresa hiding behind a young boy near the stairs.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
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Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on May 17, 2010 17:01:56 GMT -5
Teresa heard the scrapplings along the side of the shop and her adrenaline went up a high notch, despite that she seemed only the more collected. Her knife slit into the throat of the boy, but only enough to make him whimper and the father to shake in fear as he readied himself to strike the imposter.
She turned her attention away from the barricaded window, thinking that she'd have enough ime to deal with the man coming up the stairs. She repositioned herself, or rather just her arms, to where she was grabbing the boy from the back of his shirt with the knife point digging slightly into his back in an attempt to block as much of her body from the man as she could. Even the slight showage of a hand could bring about her ruin - an unexceptable outcome until Liason was dead. Teresa's shift not only ensured complete coverage of her body, but also blinded her view toward her target. She wasn't worried however, having learned long ago to use more than just her sight when fighting for her life - or for the sake of sweet revenge.
She may have joined Master to find Liason, but now that she found him...there was no longer a need for her to stay close to the family. Teresa froze at the memory, her grip going lax on the boy's tunic as something tittered at the edge of her mind. Confusion filled her face, filled her thoughts, but it was quickly cleared at the ramming of the barracade and before the boy could run, her grip was as strong as before.
She watched in silence as hit after hit the bookcase took, but as soon as it toppled over and she assessed the father's state of mind, she shoved the boy foward with all force and jumped to kick off his back, then the wall and into the rafters and thus the shadows. However, by shoving the butcher's son foward, her vision was cleared and there he was.
Liason.
She quickly and gracefully, shoved off the wall, but instead of heading up into the rafters, she slammed into the boy's back, forcing all three of them to topple down the stairs. She gritted her teeth as her shoulder cracked against one of the steps, but the majority of her fall was cushioned by the two males. Her blade slashed twice during their tumble and though she missed any sort of contact the first time, the second plunged deep enough to rip it out of her hands. She hit the bottom hard, but neither that nor the ache in her shoulder had any place within her mind.
She smashed an elbow into the boy's face to knock him unconscious as she rolled on top of Liason, another blade already gripped between her fingers. She was hoping to finish it before he could readjust himself, but just in case she couldn't, she straddled him tightly and quickly plunged the knife down.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 4, 2010 20:15:48 GMT -5
Carpenter didn’t have time to dodge the boy who crashed into him with a wild look of fear in his eyes. A second impact told him that Teresa was rolling down the stairs with them. He tried to protect the boy as he saw the blade of a knife flash out of the corner of his eye, so he shoved the boy on over him, out of her reach after she knocked him out. He felt the cold bite of steel in his ribs as they rolled and the momentary wrenching as the blade caught in his side and yanked it out of her hands. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out in pain as they came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. The woman was on top of him and he had no time to collect himself as another blade was flashing down toward his chest. He grabbed her wrist and stopped the downward motion of the second blade, staring into her face. He saw only a crazed look in her eye and sighed inwardly. The reports they had on her were obviously true.
He hated to terminate someone who was clearly sick and not in her right mind, but it was because of that state of mind that she must die. She was out of control and too many people like this boy and his father could be killed by her hand. Too many already had been. If he didn’t keep his mind on the current fight, he was going to be another one.
He held her wrist with his right hand and drew his dagger from underneath the neckline of his shirt behind his head and swung his arm to try to stab her under her right arm. At the same time he bucked his hips up and twisted his body, attempting to dislodge her where she was perched on his waist. The knife in his ribs bit deeper as he moved and he gritted his teeth in pain, hoping his Brother would get here soon.
He felt the boy move and heard him groan as he regained consciousness. The boy rolled over and Alex hissed, “run boy! Get out of here now.” Hopefully the kid wouldn’t stick around, if he had any sense left in him. Carpenter turned his attention back to Teresa, still trying to get a good angle, he managed to roll her part way to his left side and plunged his knife into her, unsure of exactly where the knife entered her body.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
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Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Jul 5, 2010 8:52:34 GMT -5
She snarled as her wrist was caught in it's downward plunge and with an almost inhuman force built on sheer adrenaline, she shoved it further down. She'd barely had it scrapping against his skin when a blade flashed toward her.
In her hazed fury, she hadn't taken notice of his other hand and for a very slight moment, thought the knife was from the other attacker - and looked up the stairs, expecting to see him.
The sudden twist of Carpenter's hips caught her off guard and sent her rolling as her mind screamed at her to lose all feeling. She easily submitted and all anger quickly subsided. It had dazed her once, she wouldn't let it blind her again.
The thoughts, quick look-up, and start of the roll all happened in the same precise second, miraculously saving her from the knife aimed at her underarm. As it was, it skimmed past her sleeve, cutting a clean slice through the fabric.
His sudden diversion of attention allowed her to regain control and instead of finishing her roll off of him, she tilted back in the other direction, making it more like a simple lean to avoid the first flash of the dagger. She plunged her blade once again, aiming for his face.
Lucikly for him, the boy's sudden flight - having taken Carpenter's words to the bones - registered through the corner of her eyes just as he swung her to the left. She dropped the knife, half-hoping it'd find its mark, and easily sublimed to his movements, using it as momentum in her roll off him. Her teeth gritted in pain for a fleeting second as knife stabbed itself into her upper right thigh, fortunately missing her femoral artery. before quickly dismissing it. There wasn't any room for anything except sheer survival.
As if in chance, the boy darted right past her on his way toward the door and knowing an advantage when she saw one, she lunged toward him, whipping another kitchen knife out as she did so. He shrieked as her arm snaked around him, pinning the lad back to her as she spun to face her attacker(s). She'd placed the knife once again at the boy's throat, effectively silencing him, and despite her wound, her weight was shifted equally on both legs.
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