[b]Co-GM IC:[/b]

[b]The Keep - First Floor[/b]
[hr]
The assassins, having partially succeeded in their objective, moved to exfiltrate. Though the Duke had surprised them, the poison they had delivered would be enough to put him out of commission for a while, or perhaps even kill him, if his health was already failing. It was likely that with swift action, he would survive, but... these assassins were not sent here on a suicide mission.

And thus, they ran through the corridors, their steps now not nearly as silent as they once were. They could no longer use the Servant's Entrance near the kitchen-- guards would be there soon enough, after all. Instead, they moved towards the keep's garden, where they could easily scale the walls and escape into the city.

Their path, however, took them past the Throne Room, the War Room, and several other important rooms. It would not be unlikely for members of the Royal Guard, or for soldiers to chance upon them as they ran past. Unless they acted quickly, these assailants would likely make their escape, unopposed.

[b]The Keep - Second Floor[/b]
[hr]
Zatana's silent entry and dynamic entrance had not been without its effects. She skillfully landed a heavy kick to the first assassin's head, which caused the man to crumple. He was not unconscious, but he was dazed and reeling. Sensing this, the Record-Hunter tightened its grip on the man, wrapping its long, serpentine body around the assassin's arms and legs. Although the familiar was made of paper, it was supernaturally strong, and resistant to normal attempts at cutting-- the man was subdued, for now.

Her next attack was equally effective, and the dagger slipping into the man's already injured calf. The second assassin fell to his knee-- with three injuries, things were not looking good. As Balthazar closed the distance to try and knock the man out with a solid thwack of his cane, something fell at his feet:

A round, black ball, with a lit fuse.

The old man's eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly moved to knock the grenade away from him. It was too late, however, and soon, the room exploded in a cloud of stinging grey smoke. Balthazar coughed and coughed, tears flowing from his eyes. Distracted like this, he could not cast any spells. Unfortunately, while the alchemical concoction seemed to be largely non-lethal in nature, everyone in the room who was not prepared for it: whether it was Balthazar, Zatana, or even the other Assassin, was now caught in the middle of it all.

Thankfully, while the door [i]was[/i] closed, the window was still wide open, and soon, the smoke had dissipated enough to see. The second assassin, still injured from the two-pronged assault of the Warlock and the Drow Shadow, had left a blood trail lead all the way to the window. He had made his escape. Balthazar, still reeling from the effects of the stinging gas, stumbled towards the window, where he saw the assassin gently floating to the bottom of the keep.

"[color=#239C89]A Feather Fall spell...[/color]" He coughed out slightly, before looking to his Drow companion. "[color=#239C89]Go after him-- even with his head start, he can't move quickly because of his injuries. You may still be able to catch him.[/color]" Balthazar said, turning his gaze to the man on the floor. 

"[color=#239C89]I'll handle this one.[/color]"

[b]The Trade Square[/b]
[hr]
As the Prince ate the food handed to him, he felt nothing wrong... at least initially. The poison, known by many names, but most commonly as Assassin's Blood, was a tasteless, colorless, and odorless liquid that could be mixed into food or drink. Although not a fast-acting, deadly poison, it was quite debilitating, especially to those of weak constitution-- or to those who consume it in large amounts.

Soon, the man would feel strange, and then ill... if the toxin was allowed to run its course, the Prince would be bedridden for a few days. Still, the Prince was a healthy man-- in the worst-case scenario, he would simply be bedbound until the poison was neutralized. Of course, it would mean that he would be unable to fight; receiving wounds while poisoned was a quick way to complicate and compound medical injuries until permanent injury, or even death, had occurred.

Meanwhile, the assassin Acrius was facing wielded a blade slathered in the concentrated venom of a snake. While nothing particularly special, this poison can seep into wounds inflicted by weapons or other trauma, causing excruciating pain. The venom can then circulate within the body, destroying the balance of the internal organs, essentially incapacitating those of a weaker constitution. The Royal Guardsman didn't know what the poison was exactly... but he knew that it would be prudent to avoid being struck, for his own well-being.

The assailant begins to circle around the man, as if waiting for an opening. When he spots one, he doesn't rush in, instead opting to throw a set of three throwing daggers in a tight fan from his off-hand. These daggers were similarly poisoned, but the movement was predictable enough to dodge or deflect. In truth, however, if Acrius decides to dodge, in a direction, he would be hard-pressed to dodge the crossbow bolt from the rooftops-- the daggers were merely a distraction for the true threat! 

Once Acrius was poisoned from one way or another, both assassins would close into melee range for the kill, confident in their ability to face him, now that he was debilitated. If he was able to avoid attempts at poisoning, however, the assassin would likely decide that discretion was the better part of valor, and move to escape, instead. The fight would then devolve into a chase across moonlit rooftops until the criminals were apprehended, or until they managed to evade their capture.

Of course, Acrius facing off against a pair of assassins in a dark alleyway in the middle of a festival was sure to draw the attention of those who were nearby, even [i]if[/i] the sounds of the townsfolk's revelry made it difficult to hear, at times. If the man needed to, he could also try to draw the fight into the streets, but the assassins were mindful enough not to carry out such an attempt in plain view