Guilty Spark — Roleplayer Guild

Character Summary [+]

The thin chord stretched taut against the man's neck, digging into the skin as Sitara applied more force. The man's slumber was cut brutally short as the pain woke him, but her garrote was coated with a paralytic which was already working its way into his bloodstream. He could do nothing more than tremble and make disturbing gurgling noises as the assassin casually proceeded to end his life. She did not know this man, she had never seen him before in her life, however, her information implicated him in a plot against the Prince. He needed to die. When his struggles finally ceased, Sitara wrapped the wire into a bundle and returned it to a pouch on her belt, then began to systematically search the room for more evidence.

The only warning she had was the sound of bowstrings stretching, but it was enough. She dove to the ground as a volley of burning arrows flooded through the window, setting the room alight in moments as the flammable wood and cloth caught fire. Crawling to the hall way as more burning arrows followed her, she slammed the door shut behind her. In one fluid motion she removed her hand-crossbow from her belt and fired it down the hall, hearing a thud and a curse as it made contact with one of her assailants, but she did not stop moving. The lock on the door across the hall snapped under her swift kick and she lunged into the room, rolling across the floor and regaining her feet in time to leap through the window. To her surprise, however, she bounced off an invisible barricade.

Sitara probed the barricade with her left hand, it was definitely an arcane ward of some sort which blocked her passage. She could hear more men stepping over their poisoned comrade in the hall, there wasn't much time before they reached her. Stepping to the right of the open window, Sitara switched her crossbow to her left hand and covered her eyes as she slammed her Spell Claw against the barrier. The men entering the room were caught off guard by a blinding flash of light and a minor explosion that shattered the window frame, they could only fire their crossbows blindly. When their vision finally cleared, the assassin was gone.

Sitara came back to the present, that had been the night her Prince had disappeared. It had all been a ruse, cleverly designed to take her from his side and eliminate her. It was not hard to imagine that the man she killed had not even been guilty, but she felt no remorse over that. It was failing to protect the Prince that stung her the most. She had traveled back to the ruins of Baalor to find him missing, and his men were launching a thorough sweep of the surrounding area. After her own search, her trained eyes caught the sign of a struggle where he had last been seen, but there was no sign of the Prince. Typically Sitara was not the thinker, she was the blade that guarded her Master's back at all costs, but given the circumstances she was capable of deducing that he had not been kidnapped by elves. The elves would not have been able to lead her into that trap. The culprit had to be Eblistani.

Now she rode on horseback, the sun beating down on her from above. After some coercion, her sources had divulged that the Prince's body had been taken to the Citadel to rot in the dungeons. Such a disrespect could not go unpunished, she intended to infiltrate the Citadel through the secret passage and recover his corpse. Then he could receive a proper burial and move on to the undying lands. Sitara had planned on going alone, but as soon as they discovered her plans the Prince's mend refused to let her leave without an escort. So forty men rode behind her across the plains as they neared the rocky outcropping that would signal they had found the tunnels entrance. She did not like to fight in daylight, but there would only be two guards at most on this end. Carried on the wind, Sitara heard the clashing of blades and bestial roars from ahead. One of the Prince's men spurred his horse to ride beside her.

"Talon, the sounds of battle are fierce. Perhaps a more cautious approach is in order?" the Mameluke asked, his hand reaching for his bow. Sitara knew little of commanding troops, but these were horse archers.

"Ready your bows, whoever blocks the path we will rain arrows down on them from afar," the forty mamelukes fanned out to either side of her, knocking arrows as they rode. Once they crested the hill, the battle unfolded beneath them. Quite a few guards were mounting an attack on the entrance to the tunnel, but a cobbled together force of what she took to be prisoners were trying to hold them off, and a hulking minotaur arrayed in weapons of death was plowing through their ranks to draw them off. She paid little attention to this, however, as her eyes locked onto an Ebistani man standing at the mouth of the tunnel. "The Prince! The Prince lives!" as she cried out, a volley of arrows fell among the treacherous guards, felling a number of them before they noticed that the mamelukes weren't their reinforcements.

Guilty Spark Member

A Relic of the Past

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts