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The waiting around was a bore. Isaac kept his hands in his pockets in a weak effort to stop fidgeting impatiently. He mulled about, kicking random stones on the warehouse roof a yard or two in different directions. He didn't understand why they had to wait if Fenn had watched the whole thing. He'd done his part, he should be paid, right? The suspicion of a betrayal was ever-present. Fenn was good with words, and those kinds of people were hard to figure out, but Isaac trusted his instincts. For all the mystery, his gut feeling was that Fenn wouldn't cheat him.

After a while, he came to stand next to Fenn. He'd half-expected Fenn to fill the time and silence with long-winded rambles, but the man had gone rather quiet. It was clear that whatever was going on at The Fox and Hound was important to him, but Isaac thought no more of it. Perhaps if he could stop thinking about greeting his brother with a cool one-liner and giving him the biggest hug of all time... perhaps he would've put all the evidence together by now. But no, the young lad could not think beyond the forty gold pieces and what he would do with it.

The moment Fenn's hand moved to his belt, Isaac's eyes were on it. Fenn showed him the pouch with his payment in, and the young lad remained silent as Fenn talked. "40 gold pieces: Enough to rent a property for weeks, or even live in taverns..."

It all sounded very nice. A good bath and bed...? it had been a while since Isaac had basked in such comforts. But first stop was South End Jailhouse. No question. Isaac's cold stare remained on Fenn, even as the man looked over to the Fox and Hound. The anticipation was killing him.

And then it finally happened. Isaac took the pouch offered and opened it up to see the glinting gold coins inside. It was real. This was really happening!

"Nice doing business with you," Fenn said with a nod. Isaac nodded back. "And also... there is plenty more where that came from. I work for an organization who are always looking for young, talented individuals like yourself. We are rather secret, so I would hope that this conversation does not go further than this here roof, but I extend an invitation to you to join us. We have a hand in various activities but primarily specialize in... cleaning up filth, you might say. But the pay is good, and you will always have a home and a family, for the rest of your life."

The pitch to join his guild halfway fell on deaf ears. Isaac was simply uninterested in anything right now. That is... until the last sentence was spoken. ...You'll always have a home and a family... That part struck a chord in Isaac Storm. He wasn't in denial that he was jealous of kids he saw walking the street with a mother and father at their side. He'd never known the feeling of family. Oftentimes he'd wonder what it was like. The pitch sounded altogether different after that line.

That awkward, icey gaze remained on Fenn the whole time. He didn't know what to say. He wondered what Lucas would say. Would this be a good opportunity for them? Would Lucas even be accepted? Cleaning up filth? Fenn was as clean and well-dressed as anyone Isaac had ever spoken to, so clearly cleaning up filth didn't mean what Isaac was thinking. "Cleaning up filth, you say?" Isaac remarked, feeling that this was a good place to start. "What kind of filth?"

As if on queue, Isaac followed Fenn's gaze to see, across the canal at the Fox and Hound, some men bringing out a stretcher with a body on it. Then he saw the three bodyguards, recognizing them by their colours and swords. Suddenly, it all made sense; the reverse robbery. The gloves and careful handling of the gold piece he dropped. The dead body of the tall, tubby man in mustard.

Isaac put a hand to his stomach, feeling physically sick at the situation he found himself in. He was an accomplice to murder. In fact, one might say that he was the murderer. He was the one who dropped the coin. The poisoned coin. The killer.

"You... fucker." Isaac backed away two steps. "You bastard. You..." He couldn't even say it. "Why...? What...? Cleaning up filth," he answered his own question. "Why didn't you tell me what I was doing?" He felt betrayed in a way that he'd not seen coming. And he felt terrible for not seeing the signs. He looked down at the payment in his hand. Blood money. He wanted to throw it off the roof, but he couldn't. He needed it. Looking back at Fenn, his face tense with stress. "You're an assassin."

And it now occured to him that depending on how he acted, he might be the next one to die. Fear creeped up over the general anxiety. He knew he had to be careful here. "I need this money. Thirty gold for my brother's freedom. It's all I care about." He paused a moment, then added, "I can't accept or refuse your offer until I've dealt with that... know that he's safe and sound."
The tall, tubby and finely dressed man walked down Howard Boulevard with his three bodyguards positioned in a triangle around him. The population about gave a wide berth if they were in his path, unwilling to contend with his important air or the sharp longswords of his bodyguards.

"Do you know Howard Boulevard - just off Canal Street...? Good. Our mark will be on that road before he makes his way to The Fox and Hound."

Along the rooftops of the houses, Isaac strolled, one hand in his shorts pocket as he went. The other gloved hand was closed into a fist, the special coin inside. His eyes were fixed on the mark.

"He is wearing mustard today. A stiched tunic with hose and leggings. Not hard to miss."

Isaac walked danergously, no more than a few inches from the edge of the roof as he followed along. But when the rich man went into the bakery - one bodyguard follwing and the other two flanking the doorway - the orphan retreated a little from the edge of the roof and went on ahead. He skipped over the narrow gaps between buildings, going most of the way down Howard Boulevard before stopping and standing against the chimney of the two-floor tenement he was atop. There he watched the bakery entrance.

"Forty gold once I can confirm your success. Payment immediate. And an offer of something more, if you are interested."

He had no idea why the coin was so special, nor did he care. He didn't even think about it. All that mattered was he followed his instructions to the letter. In the next couple of hours, he would buy his brother's freedom. As still as a statue, he stood against the chimney, ankles crossed, icey gaze fixed on the two bodyguards down the street. As sure as Fenn Talismon as told it, the rich man came out of the bakery, holding a knapsack of pastries. The bodyguard resumed their formation around him and they all continued down the street.

Isaac continued along high ground to the end of the boulevard, which was a T junction against Canal Street. He chose a narrow alley way to get back to street level, descending the poor brickwork and window ledges easily, even without the aid of the short washing lines that residents would hang up between the buildings. He was back on the ground, at the mouth of the alley, taking a peek out before walking casually out into the open, turning onto Canal Street and going to stand near the water, pretending to watch the barges float past.

When it came to crunch time... when everything was in place... Isaac's heart was pounding. It felt like his whole life depended on this moment. If he could just do this right, everything would return back to normal. He would have his brother back, and they could go on and live their lives. Maybe move to another part of London and find a better way of making a living. Or stay in the East End, because damn it all, as long as they were together, it really didn't matter.

Isaac lined himself up behind the mark's company, closing the distance to 15 yards or so, by the time they were near The Fox and Hound. He moved to the Inn-side of the street and sped up his walking and then timing himself perfectly, he burst into a sprint. His wiry form flew between the two rear bodyguards, his knife hand poised, and before anyone could even shout, he'd torn the rich man's purse practically in half.

"Hey!"

"Huh!?"

"What...!"

The money showered the floor with a melody of coin-on-cobble. Isaac was so focused on cutting the purse, that he couldn't stop himself barging into the tall, tubby rich man, who tried push him away. Fortunately, he didn't forget to drop the special coin as he avoided both losing his balance and being apprehended by one of the bodyguards.

"Get him!"

Isaac zigged and zagged out of reach, having to put a hand to the floor to keep from tumbling over, but he got clear of threats and sprinted off down the street, taking his first available turn. He knew not to look back, only staying focused on what was ahead. He knew the East End like the back of his hand and as he ducked past oncomers and lept over boxes and rubbish, he was mentally mapping out a mazy route to an even mazier part of the city where he had the advantage................

................He was gone. He had a whole route planned but it was unnecessary. If anyone had given chase, Isaac had lost them within minutes. He stood watch at a crossroads for a few minutes before deciding the coast was clear. And then he carefully made his way back the warehouse roof where Fenn Talismon was waiting for him.

"Could've went better, but job done," Isaac said to Fenn. False modesty. It couldn't have gone better, the orphan thought. His eyes subconciously flicked to Fenn's hands and any potential purse at on his belt. It was quite clear that he was eager to be paid. "Any problems with what I did? Because if not, then I wanna settle up."
I like the sound of this, sir. Count me in.
@Squirrel98Gonna have to withdraw my interest from this RP. Sorry about that.
@ArmorPlatedBravo, sir. I was focused on the character ideas so I missed all of them. Love it though, nice one XD
@Dark CloudYou next?
5) Paper-golem. (Recycled idea from an RP that folded. A walking, talking spellbook, potentially good for boosting magical abilities. Also shapeshifting!)
...from an RP that folded? That better be pun-intended! :P


Ha, awesome. I feel bad I missed that one :D
May I reserve a spot in this please? I'd like to represent England.
The seed has been planted, MacKensie might actually choose to help Chatak over the Witch and the Empire. Unity will sound preferrable to her. Right now though, with next-to-zero information and no time to sit and think, she's a bit ignorant to everything and just wants to get away from the giant graveyard. But it's all getting through her skull - Yakeru's teleport, Jared's split personality, David's identity issues, the Witch's strange methods - she will eventually be addressing it all, I'm not ignoring the detail in all of you guys' great posts.
Damn, that's unfortunate. Well, best of luck with the RP, it sounds awesome.
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