Assallya

Medieval Assassins

What's with the crazy characters who can hear the words of the narrator? That's just messed up!

Medieval Assassins

Morana began to accelerate her movements, feeling the rhythm in the music inside her bones. Swaying and moving her legs she moved sinuously. While her bare feet slapped the cobblestone she used the time to think. A minstrel unconcerned with money? That nearly boggled Morana's mind. As a gypsy she had travelled in exactly such a fashion, from town to town, with her people. They were greatly concerned with coin. Boots needed mending, clothes needed darning, and a thousand other small details. Even taking a bath cost coin. Certainly a wandering troubadour received free food and lodging at inns but those small details were expensive. What happened when her lute needed to be stringed or replaced? No, she'd never heard of a minstrel that turned down coin. This made Morana wary. Maybe the girl had a wealthy patron, maybe she was another spoiled daughter of a noble house with too much time on her hands?

Medieval Assassins

A young woman had begun strumming a lute, a tall woman, by far taller than Morana was by at least a head. Morana floated closer, moving lightly on her bare feet. She hummed softly, picking up the girl's tune. Morana took a look at the girl's visage, compared it to several drawings she'd been looking through earlier. She didn't recognize the girl as one of the known operatives of the Assassin Order and thus dismissed her and could then concentrate on enjoying the music.

Moving closer Morana swayed gracefully, her legs moving to the rhythm. Her hips began to sway and her arms fluttered through the air.. Since the song was rather slow paced she kept her movements slow, matching the pacing.

"How about stepping it up?" she whispered askance, "Coins fall more readily to happier songs."

The Conflict: Armanian Union and Razgar's Tribes (Medieval fantasy RP)

Villeth was uncertain why the elves were holding back. They were the first race, with the most powerful magics known to creation and endless vaults of forbidden artifacts sealed away from the rest of the world for its own protection. The paladins of Correlon Larethian were nowhere to be seen. She'd heard of devotees to Labelas Enoreth, seeing the future, freezing time and moving like lightning, then there were the followers of Solonor Thelindria, god of hunters, who were nearly invisible and could caress a hummingbird's wing with their arrows and a dozen others. She also had to wonder why there were no thorned briars erupting from the charcoal treated earth. Leather Leaf and Ironoak were normally resistant to fire and they had burned down in short order.

Villeth suspected a trap.

The dark elven woman considered possibilities. After all, the undead army was pressed up tight against the wall. It would be the prefect time to counter attack from behind. Alternatively, now that the they were near the cleared portion adjacent to the wall the entire army was exposed to magical strikes from the skies above or possibly attacks from the avariel, the elven tribe that was gifted with wings by Aedrie Faenya, goddess of wind and sky.

Medieval Assassins

Morana blushed. Stupid girl. It would serve her right to get married to some bloated pustule ridden piece of filth. The girl had no idea how good she had it.

"Uh yeah," Morana agreed, reminding herself that she really needed to keep her gypsy temper in check, "You're absolutely right."

Oh goodness. Could she screw this up anymore. Why couldn't she keep her own mouth shut?

"I... uh... really need to get back to work..."

Medieval Assassins

"He'll trade you for power," Morana argued, turning from her sidelong stance to face Ashley directly, "which is why you need to be smart. If he trusts your judgement, your input, if he thinks you're ruthless then you might be able to sway his opinion."

Morana winced as she realized how dangerous this was getting. If Ashley repeated any of this to her father then Morana would likely be whipped.

"Madre de dios," she added, "batting your eyelashes at your father will only work for a few more years."

Medieval Assassins

By all that was holy, the girl wanted nothing more than to be a trophy wife. It made Morana sick.

"That's the stuff of kings, the fate of the world being decided," Morana replied in a harsh whisper, "If you pay attention you might at least have a say in which husband you'll have."

That was something she'd probably never know. Her virginity was long gone and she'd likely never be married. With luck, she'd live out her final days as a spinster in some Templar noble's household washing floors until her back gave out. With ill luck she'd be lying in a ditch inside of a year with a dagger in her spine.

Medieval Assassins

Morana blushed. She'd never been to one of those meetings. The few times she'd been in their presence was to be told what she was supposed to do and how she would go about it. She was little more than an errand girl, delivering messages, distracting the Templar's enemies and occasionally murdering some hapless soul. A dirty gypsy girl had nothing to do with those that wrestled with plots that encompassed entire nations. In truth, when she died, probably very few people would even realize that she was gone.

"When I'm brought before the others... I rarely even look up," she admitted, staring down at her teal blue painted toenails for a brief moment, "and I'm there for such a short time, just to be given my instructions. You'll forgive me if I didn't notice you there. I'm not supposed to know the faces or names of most high..."

One of the many people in the crowd came close by and Morana didn't wish to use the word "Templars" where it could be overheard. The swarthy portly man seemingly was looking with interest at the pair, probably wondering what two young women were doing unsupervised by men. When he noticed Morana's eyes on him, however fleetingly, he shirked away. Some sort of spy or just some creepy man with sick appetites?

"...of the more important members of the guild if you understand my meaning my lady."

Medieval Assassins

Morana impulsively tensed. When the daughter of your employer and someone who could command the local guard leaned in close one became very cautious. The last thing she wanted was Ashley feigning some sort of fit or bursting into tears and otherwise indicating Morana as the reason for it. Ashley's father would not be pleased.

Slipping away a half step, just putting a little distance between them Morana ran the end of another bolt of silk through her hands. She liked crimson. It was a fair cry different from the teal blue dress she wore. She still kept a close eye on Ashley, suspicious with why the girl was suddenly so interested in her and more importantly, wondering why she was letting Morana know what she knew. What did she know? Was it simply a word that she had heard her father use in passing or did she have real knowledge.

"-and what do you know about- Templars?" Morana asked carefully, feeling like she was walking on very dangerous ground.

Medieval Assassins

Crying? There's no crying in assassinations! That's so unfair!