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11 mos ago
omg! I hope nothing bad happens D:
2 likes
11 mos ago
My soul is full of fat cats, they would eat the birds.
2 likes
11 mos ago
Got enough of me stalking all of you yet? I'm just getting started. Rawr~
1 like
11 mos ago
I'm a simp for great characters and good plots.
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I want in! But with Blackfire!
I'm game if you'll have me!
Can I still join if I haven't read the books?



So, things did go according to plan…almost. The kick to the young gobbling was expected, she had been taking too long and since the guards seemed to like the taste of power, it would be stupid to expect anything different, Mhin didn’t care much for that, she had endured worse over the years, a sadistic way of learning a lesson, sure, but it got the job done. However, the slashing was unnecessary and completely out of character, any guard knew this, none of them made such a move to stop two annoying slaves, which meant the bastard was indeed new and inexperienced…your mine.

Swiftly, she made her way behind the guard, her feet as quiet as a breeze -Why don’t you mess with someone your own size?- her voice low and cold, her eyes devoid of emotion, a mere whisper in the air, that was the only warning the guard had before feeling the strong grip of slender fingers on his chin and another one at his nape. In one swift motion the assassin finished the job, the body of the now diseased guard, slamming the floor after a distinctive clack was heard, his head now in an unnatural angle. Mhin looked at the corpse at her feet with annoyance —it had been too easy for her linking, before bending down and taking the heavy ring of keys in one hand.

Without a word she approaches the feyling, not even asking for permission before lifting the now stained rag that was his upper garments and taking a look at the damage made by the guard -C’mon…- she murmured in a hushed voice after making sure the blade didn’t really put his life in any danger; It’s not that she cared —at least not that she would admit it, but the feyling was…she wasn’t sure what he was, but she couldn’t just let him die “It would only drag us down if he died, that’s all” the elf thought to herself before taking a quick glance at the little goblin who one way or the other had actually played her part.

-You, carry this two…- her eyes traveled to the large man who had been seating still until now -and you, get them out – she nodded towards the other cell, throwing the keys to the brunet, before exiting the cell with a small nod to Titus, walking back from where the guard had come, keeping to the shadows as she made sure the building was stilled or if any other guard had heard their little charade. She had decided not to take the guard's sword, a simple and unnarmed prisoner was to be seeing as less of a real thread than an armed one… and the women didn’t really need any to begin with.




-It’s time- the women murmured to nobody, before watching the little goblin make her way to the door. If Titus was right, there should be only one guard on duty at the time, one unfortunate man. Easy target.

But —as expected by the elf, things were getting behind squelched. The goblin was taking too long, the noise was surely to make it to the guards’ ears and if they didn’t do something, he would be at their noses before she could even get out of there. Mhin bit a corner of her mouth, thinking, before turning to the stinky man and the blond feyling. What else could they do? It was apparent the goblin wasn’t going to make it in time, and she would NOT be punished for the mistakes of some child.

Determined, she walked towards Kristo, snatching up the project he was knitting with force, and started to take it apart as messy as she could, still not uttering a single word. Tossing the mess on Erith’s lap before watching both of them with clear annoyance -Make your self’s useful distractions- she ordered in a hushed voice, hoping the two would be smart enough to catch her meaning. She made her way back, graving the sad excuse of cover they were given —which was what looked like an old sack of potatoes— and pretended to sleep on the floor next to the cell bars, not before nodding to the goblin to make her hurry.

If the goblin couldn’t get the door open in time, the guard would come and be forced to open the door him self to beat two quarrying slaves, this would give her enough time to strike. If the guard was a newbie, he wouldn’t have heard the rumors about herself, thus a sleeping elf wouldn’t be the target of his attention. She could work with that.
If this is still alive, I'm interested!
<Snipped quote by Zora>

They usually separate out the sexes, to avoid issues.


Yeah...I don't think they would consider Mhin being with a butch of guys or a goblin girl in one cell, an issue hahaha
Y'know that scene from The Lion King where Pumbaa and Timon act like a distraction? Yeah...that would be Kristo and Erith hahaha



How much could they all “plan” in such a short notice? So many things could go wrong even with all the man’s planning and yet, maybe it was better that way. If they had somehow managed to find each other inside the tunnels, it would have been suspicious to hide in dark corners—heck it was suspicious enough that Mhin, of all people, was actually engaging with her fellow prisoners, but to have all of them in one place… Titus —as the other guy would call him— had been smart enough to find the perfect time to talk about something like that. How long had he waited for the opportunity to do so?

Before she could even articulate a response, she heard her headache before she felt it, a cheerful voice that shouted from a considerable distance from their table and made every pair of eyes close to them, turn their attention to the red haired elf, who now was considering the cons of killing someone in plain sight; Where Mhin was darkness and shadows, the feyling was sunshine and blue summer skies, which made Mhin uncomfortable. She hatted attention, being invisible was all she had been doing so far, but for some reason, the blond guy would just love to be with her, and that, was a special kind of torture. You know, like the little cubs that everyone find cute but no one can stand for too long -If you dare to shout my name one more time- she murmured, once the feyling was seated near her -…I’ll cut your tongue out…- giving one of her death stares to mark her words, before returning her attention to the matter at hand.

Two things she noticed were: people —regardless of species, always seemed to think they were better in numbers, team work and all that, something that only worked if at least half of the team was actually worth it. Which lead to the other point: so far, there were only two people, —maybe three— worth the trouble…which meant she would be fucked if this improvised plan went bad, and of course if Titus decided to play the double agent, they would all be knee-deep in it already, so she didn’t trust him as there was only one way a person would have so much intel on things in a place like the prison… and she doubted he was the play thing of some guard.

But the truth was still there, she needed something as the previous attempts she had made to escape on her own, clearly didn’t work. So, she would play her part, actually putting in the work and even follow whatever plan they came up with. She turned her head slightly to glance at the elf woman, her fiery hair hiding the orange color of her eye -oh don’t worry, if corpses is what you need, you’ll get as many as you want- her voice was as serene and cold as the chilly air surrounding her, a small curve at the corner of her lips —barely noticeable to the ones with keen eyes— was all the emotion she was showing at the prospect of actually doing that on which she was good for, something that got her complete attention. And maybe half of them would perish —the smelly brunet guy, Kristo, most likely— but if she had a chance to get out of the shithole, she would take it… she would worry about discarding the excess weight later.

The little goblin had made a point, but distractions were simple enough, noise would be your typical plan in the kind of situations where things could get ugly, at this, her eyes traveled again to the “peace lover” and the feyling, before speaking again -I think, we can all agree we have the “distraction” covered- she spoke uninterested as she usually would, returning to her usual self -should we need it, I don’t think the guards would expect a hug from a friendly prisoner, and maybe if he gave them one, we would be gone in no time- she nodded in direction to the big guy sitting on the floor.

---------

Later that night, Mhin was keeping to the shadows, keeping an eye on the guards that were louder than ever. Laughing amongst themselves, barely even noticing the change on a small group of slaves. Each had an air of excitement to them through the rest of the day, but now they were even more annoying than usual, a party was a rare occurrence and this made them careless, weak. Once the rest of the guards would leave their post to attend this party, there was no turning back and if everything went according to plan, she would be free by sunrise.

She kept an eye out for the signal, ignoring the other inmates who were just turning in to the slave quarters for the night.


Another fucking day in hell. Three months had she been down there with the rest of the lot…three and had made zero advances on her plan. She would be the laughing clown of the assassin’s group, that she would, she could almost hear them, mocking her with their “hey rookie! Too much for ya’?” yes, they would no doubt laugh at her face or —even worse than being their play thing— they most likely leave her down there to root, not being even worth the problem. They sure could have 100 more like her by the next full moon, why bother rescuing a nobody street urchin who didn’t make it out of a place like that? No… she wouldn’t be worth their time. She had to escape somehow.

The little paper note weighed more than ever on her secret pocket. Even when the ink had started to fade and it was smaller than before, it weighed in her mid, made her palms itch with the need to do something…anything that would get her out of there. Her face showed nothing of the chaos that was her mind, she was as stoic and unfriendly as the first time she had been mining, only this time, people around her could feel a change on her, they could almost feel the danger pouring out of her skin, maybe it had something to do with the hard unforgiving way she hit the boulders, but they could feel it. Her rage. And why shouldn’t she be angry? The Crows didn’t even give her instructions, they just “sold” her as disposable gear and gave her a pat on the back for “good luck”.

She hated the mines and the stone, and the sand, and the people there with their odors and smelly mouths. She hated it all. And as always, the day went by with only a few punches to some idiots who thought they were being funny about her ears and a mildly annoyed guard who preferred to yell than actually due anything about a bunch of slaves quarrying.

she found her self sited at a small stone on the far end of the table, where an annoying man —that looked a lot like her usual aristocrat targets did— was talking about being free, as always was the case with the “dreamers” on the mines, he had an audience of people she had worked with before, but couldn’t really put a name to. Her plate rested untouched in front of her, but she made sure to eat the brick that was supposed to be bread, as a fainting assassin was as good as a baby, when her interest was piqued….a party. Her colorful eyes swept to her right, listening to the blond man’s tale, gears already turning in her mind, even as a …. Goblin? Spoke from behind her own bread —at least, her voice seemed of a female, but it was too hard to say—.

If she could steal the map —and she could— she would be out of that place in no time.

-You know…- she finally spoke, not really talking to anyone in particular, her eyes still fixating on the bread, her long lashes casting shadows on her unmatching eyes -a smaller group might be…wiser than a larger one- if she was going to get out of there and had a chance at taking the key, she needed numbers, not that they would be much help, but people were pieces to move and use, so why not?
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