Redthorn Anvil

Exodus

Finally, the young Demon medic came out with her medicine bag and shooed Asmod to a cot.
"Didn't I say to set yerself down! Good grief!" She turned and waved her arms at Azurael and T'vor.
"Go away, I can't think with you tall people breathing down my neck!"
"Hmh!" T'vor grunted. He pulled Azurael outside with him.
"You wanted to speak to me?"

---

Meanwhile, Ariadel was poking and prodding her subject with various implements.
"So tell me everything you remember. From the beginning. Oh I'm Ariadel, by the way, but most people are lazy and just call me Ari. I don't give a rat's patoot either way. I'm the doctor, by the way, the only one. This is the infirmary, also the only one, and no, I'm not hiring. Please continue."

---

It was then that Chrissa once again ran into Ma'ai. She hadn't heard the scream herself, but word had spread about the incident and she'd left the tent in a hurry to see what she could do about it. However, when she arrived, it seemed the matter was already over, and only a few bystanders were still lingering.
She explained as much to her acquaintance.
"So then I guess everything's okay now?" It was somewhat rhetorical. Then, she blushed.
"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry, I suppose I sort of ran away earlier..." It was an obvious observation.
"How have you been?"

Aleatorem Groditoris

"Yes, I'm quite aware." The Breton's voice could be heard as he pushed open the heavy door. "It is always open, for future reference." Today, the vampire was actually unhooded for once, and his hair was loose. It was a light brown in color, marred only by one or two streaks of silver. Sadly, it wasn't enough to beautify his otherwise unhealthy appearance, though perhaps made him look significantly less "mysterious".
Now not being shadowed by a hood, his eyes clearly glinted red in the dim candlelight of his room, which was extremely orderly, though largely undecorated, the only furnature being a desk, a small table with two chairs, and a bookcase which housed a collection of very old-looking books. Naturally, there was an absence of rugs and tapestries, allowing the room to remain very chilly indeed. It was to the desk he went next, retrieving another parcel of paper similar in appearance to the first contract he'd given her.
"This one requires a little more finesse... but I'm sure you can handle it, hm?" He offered her another of his sly smirks to go with her new contract.
"Follow the instructions of the contractor successfully, and I've been given leave to offer you a bonus, which you forfeit if you choose to carry out the murder in your own fashion."

Aleatorem Groditoris

Vicente tilted his head at her. "Of course, there's plenty of jobs free for the taking. But you won't be "assed" to do them either. I don't assign contracts when the rest of us are sleeping." He smirked, then set down a clinking sack of septims for her.
"Go and rest. You'll need it."

Aleatorem Groditoris

Things were quiet in the sanctuary. Some of the family members were off on contracts, but some had simply left because it was the weekend and wanted--or needed--to keep up appearances in their "normal" lives. There were only a very small few who didn't have normal lives to keep up. Mainly, Ocheeva, her brother, and Vicente. Lucien too, but he rarely ever stayed in the sanctuary anyway. He was always off doing some work or other with the Hand. Ocheeva sometimes worried for the man, but she was well aware that he could easily take care of himself. If not for Ungolim, he might even have been Listener by now--which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Of course Ocheeva was fond of him, despite the man having become someone difficult to like, but she didn't think it would be good for the Brotherhood for him to lead. It would be a lot of power, and men like him had a certain love for it. Lucien liked being in control, and that is what concerned her. So even if Ungolim was an ass, she was thankful that he was still alive. If Lucien vied for his position, there was no telling what the other Speakers would do.
Well, anyway. That was all moot at this juncture.

It was then that Ocheeva noticed the night-watchman standing at her shoulder.
"You don't surprise me any more, Vicente."
Ocheeva could tell he was amused.
"Is that an insult, Ocheeva?"
"You can take it as one if you like." There was a glint in her eye.
The Breton laughed quietly. It wasn't a pretty sound--more often then not, it made her skin prickle uncomfortably, but such was his nature.
"Well, I suppose if you're up, it must be time for the rest of us to sleep. What time is it?"
"Late. Too late."
"How do you mean?"
"Venasa of House Indoril is late on return. But I expect she'll be here shortly."
"Indoril?"
"Yes."
"The letter didn't say."
"No, it didn't."
"Is Ungolim keeping secrets?"
"None that I am aware of."
"How you manage to figure these things out is beyond me."
A grim smirk.
"And I suppose you'll be out here to pay her."
A pause. "Ah, you were wondering why I had left my room."
"You don't, often."
"Indeed not."
Another pause, then Ocheeva roused herself. "Well then, my friend. Enjoy the solitude while you can, because you might not have it for long if Venasa is about to arrive soon."
"Sleep well."
Ocheeva cringed. "That always sounds terrible, coming from you. Did you know?"
Another quiet laugh. "Yes, I suppose it would."
Ocheeva excused herself, leaving the shadowy figure to himself.

Exodus

The General interjected for Je'nai. "Genesis has been evacuated. Those that are here in this camp are all that's left. For the moment, we maintain a perhaps shaky truce until such time as a real alliance can be made, or until the truce is broken. His royal Highness, however, is struggling with the princess. She is a naïve girl that lacks responsibility, and already her people are suffering for it. I hear that she's requested... "tutoring". We'll see how long that lasts." He approached a long tent and swept aside the entrance flap. "Ariadel! You're needed here!"
A young woman's voice responded to him with "Stuff your scaly maw, dragon-breath! Just put 'em on an empty cot, would'ya? I'll be right with'ya."
The tall man bristled.

Aleatorem Groditoris

Vicente seemed to disregard her previous comment. "A marksman indeed," he replied, with another of those smiles that seemed to be laughing at her. "Then you should have no problem whatsoever, with this contract. An easy target with an easy goal. You may kill him in any manner you see fit. You can read the details for yourself." He nimbly plucked a sheet of paper from the short stack and handed it to her.
"You're going after a street vendor. Long story short, other street vendors nearby are complaining about the volume of his voice. One of them decided to ask us to deal with the problem. Granted, it's a little benign, but it shouldn't be terribly difficult, I think."

Aleatorem Groditoris

Vicente was reading, of course, through what appeared to be a short stack of papers--suspiciously very much like letters. By the time Venasa walked into the training room, he'd finished reading about half of the letters. He didn't look up until she was nearby. When he did, the glint of amusement was again in his eye.
"If you've come here for training, Venasa, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you." He paused, as though to see her reaction. He continued.
"But not to worry. I cannot train you because you don't need it. Already you have the lithe qualities fit for a stalker; your body betrays you. What I have here are some contracts that fulfilling. I'm deciding now which to test you on."

Aleatorem Groditoris

Lucien

Prompts

iv.

Aleatorem Groditoris

The shadowed man lowered his eyes as a faint smile touched his lips, as if Venasa's arrival was a joke of some peculiar kind. It didn't help much to warm his otherwise cold appearance. His face was thin and his skin pale--too pale. His long hair of a dark brown shade was tinged with silver streaks at his temples and was pulled back into a neat ponytail. With his eyes now lowered, it was still difficult to determine their color. Another shade of brown, perhaps. He had the appearance of someone who was both wise and clever, and when he spoke, his voice was smooth and low. "The day that someone apart from the Brotherhood should enter this hall will be a dangerous day indeed."

It was then that his partner turned to get a look at Venasa. She was an argonian, and though she regarded Venasa with a neutral calm, it was clear by her reptilian eyes that she was not fond of the idea of letting someone who'd just killed a Brotherhood informant work for her. "Yes, Venasa, your name is known to us. I am Ocheeva, the mistress here while Lucien is away. Which is... often..." She shook herself. "But, never mind. The circumstances of your presence here are strange--and I'm afraid you may find a difficult time settling in, but if you do well for us, you will be always welcome here as a Sister. You seem to have good timing, however. Vicente here trains all the newest members and provides them work. When he thinks you are ready, he will send you to me." She paused for a moment.

"Right then. Training rooms are down the right hall, and all the living quarters are on the left. You'll also find a bath and the dining hall there. We don't really assign rooms. Just find one that looks uninhabited, and it's yours. When you are ready to begin your training, you can usually find Vicente in a training room if he chooses to wait for you there, or he'll be down there." She gestured towards the dark hallway. "He prefers not to mingle with the rest of us, ordinarily." Another pause, and then she turned to her companion. "Why did you want to speak to me, anyway?"

The man's smirk hadn't dissolved. "It isn't important now, Ocheeva. Excuse me." He turned and glided away from the other two, towards the training hall, as Ocheeva has suggested.

Aleatorem Groditoris

With the grating of stone against dirt and stone, the heavy portal slowly swung inward to admit Venasa. There were grooves in the stone floor to mark the age and wear and the many times this door had been used in the past. It revealed to Venasa an oddly spacious hall, comfortably furnished with large rugs on the floor and tapestries lining the walls to keep in as much warmth as possible. There was an area for reading in one corner, lit with several candles to ease strain on the eyes, and in the center of the room was a wide, circular firepit which was raised slightly off the ground and kept neat by a wall of brick enclosing it, the fire was a low crackle, so it might send heat and wan light to all corners of the room but without making the entire hall too warm. In the far corner of the room, natural light seeped in from what appeared to be some kind of shaft, and a rope ladder could be seen just hanging in the interior. From this one large room, three hallways branched away from it, two of which were lit by sconces on the walls, and the third remained dark. There were scarce few people present in the room, one of whom was reading a book, and two others, one of whom was an argonian, but the other figure was shrouded in darkness. Whoever he was, he seemed to emanate a darkness more intense than Lucien, perhaps one even tainted by evil. This figure stood so still, he might have been a statue. Despite the fact that he seemed preoccupied, he seemed to be casting his shadowed gaze on Venasa.

The thick door swung shut behind Venasa with a whisper.
"Welcome home."