RP:Alleycats and Dogs

In Cenril, this kind of thing was probably common enough

-Setting The Streets of Cenril 25 Nov 2011

Katya had finally found the man she'd been hired to locate. It was a petty job, not much gold in it, but boredom had driven her to worse jobs in the past. The problem she had was that the man she'd been hired to retrieve was already under 'protection' by the people she was meant to be protecting him from. As the merchant's clerk disappears down a side alley, flanked and followed by four rough and burly men, the elven mercenary unhooks her buckler from the hilt of her scimitar, and starts to slowly follow them at a distance. In Cenril, this kind of thing was probably common enough - Katya's lack of drawn blade is normally being enough to leave her relatively uninteresting to passersby.

Jerica hasn't been hired to protect anyone. In fact, she'd been hired to do just the opposite. Her target, based on description, had just gone down an alley with a quartet of bodyguards. This would make things complicated but not by much. Jerica hung back far enough that none would see her as a threat. Of course, how could a woman that barely reached five feet tall, being only four foot nine, be a threat of any kind? Drawing her cloak close, checking the sewn in pockets to be sure she had everything needed, the small assassin starts forward with hood drawn up to shadow her face. That's about when she noticed the elf was heading the same way. Curiouser and curiouser. She is going to have to talk to her employer about extra compensations for increased hazard.

Death was often arriving in the smallest packages

Katya was surprised to find the alley shared with a cloaked and, frankly, suspicious figure. In her line of work, Katya never linked 'size' with 'danger' - often the reverse was true. Death was often arriving in the smallest packages. Already, this job was becoming more complicated than the elven mercenary would like. Still, the elf was not one for the subtle approach and she quietly speaks with the figure at an almost-whisper "Hello darling. Who are you here for. The weedy guy, or the big lummoxes? Are you not realising two is a crowd?" If there was one truth in Cenril, it was that one did not walk down narrow alleys without either intending or risking a mugging or worse.

Sophie :: The weasel-resembling merchant looks around nervously. "Are you sure this route is safe?" He asks the hired muscle who have kidnapped him. In response the leader just thwaks his palm with the handle of his battle axe, grinning confidently. He has a nasty scar diagonally across his face. His three fellows are all huge and armed to the teeth. Plus they have teeth too..or at least they still have some of their teeth.

Jerica would wonder, later, how in the world she'd been noticed trailing the group of five and the elf. She'd been careful she was sure. Almost hissing a breath between her teeth, Jerica reaches for the elf's arm to drag her back far enough the goons wouldn't hear them speak. "It doesn't matter who I'm here for, elf. What matters is you are in my way."

Landalathar had been having a rough week as it were, his shirt all but shredded, and now he found himself stumbling through Cenril. It had not been that time of month, but it was more of an unstoppable effect of needing a fight, too much stress, the part of him that wanted nature was the same part of him that wanted the wolf and the pull to shift was too strong. His shoulder rotated as he pulled it back, stumbling now as he fought to stay in public, hoping the city would have some sway over him to keep him sane, to keep him as an elf, he should have watched where he was going. The long, red-haired male found himself stumbling directly into the two women, following down to one knee and now the four bodyguards and traveler were really confused. Lan found himself clutching his chest and through gritted teeth, apologizing despite his pride, "Excuse.... Me."

Is being too many chefs. This is messy soup, and I am thinking merchantboy is cooked goose

Katya thinks anyone entering an alley would have to be invisible not to be noticed by those being watchful. It was perhaps only overconfidence that the thugs had yet to notice them. Katya keeps her arm free of the hooded figure with a serpentine movement of arm, but responds in a similar hiss "Darling, I am thinking exact same thing. And I was here first. How much are you being paid to be here?" Katya kept herself a small distance from the stranger, ready to move the moment things got too icy. And then some ragged-shirt man stumbles down into their midst. There was no way the kidnappers would not notice Landalathar's lurching movements, or Katya's agile sidestep. The elven mercenary feeds mana and whispers the command of 'Vyetyer!' to her shield as her clothing starts to rustle in a breeze unfelt by the others. Katya mutters in annoyance "Is being too many chefs. This is messy soup, and I am thinking merchantboy is cooked goose."

Sophie :: Carl as the leader of the thugs is known, utters a curse I am prevented from typing by Hollow's Pg13 rules as the kidnapee continues to complain. He turns and menaces the little merchant's clerk with that -huge- battleaxe. "Just mind yer tongue, that is if you want to keep it." Another of the thugs, Barry nudges Carl. he speaks slowly. "Poor red hair man back there has falled over, might have coin." Carl just snarls. "Keep your mind on -this- job. Let me do the thinking."

Jerica lets out a long-suffering sigh and just shakes her head which causes the hood covering it to move with the motion. She wasn't at all surprised that the elf evaded her harmless grasp. Drawing that appendage back under the covering of her cloak, the human female says, "Enough that you can't pay me off." A sharp glance is sent towards the entrance of the alley, drawn by the stumbling gait of another elf. A male this time and certainly at least twice her size and weight. This did not matter. Beneath the flutter of her cloak, Jerica has drawn something from one of the many pockets. The drift of voices from the 'guards' is all it takes to tell Jerica that the game is over. They, or at least the elf on the ground, had been noticed. Easing the garment off her shoulders reveals several evenly weighted knives held in the woman's hands, ready to be thrown at a moments notice.

Landalathar started to stand, the lycan blinking, those elvish ears twitching, "Excuse me?" This time it wasn't an apology, it wasn't even meant to be a clarification for what he just heard, he was too busy feeling his arms convulse as the group discussed his possible mugging. If the scene had already gone helter skelter, one couldn't imagine what came next as the arm hairs on Landalathar started to elongate, the vague threat of being mugged sending him over the edge of the werewolf started to transform in the middle of Cenril, full moon or no.

Cheh, and I am being paid pittance. Is that seeming right to you?

Katya curses, hoping that the thugs make some effort to keep their kidnappee alive long enough for Katya to earn her pitiful commission "Cheh, and I am being paid pittance. Is that seeming right to you?" The elven mercenary's clothing whips around her as the Ruslvic shipdancer shifts sideways with sinuous and deceptive movements of body and feet before dropping briefly into a crouch and springing up, windpushed, towards a windowsill. Hooking hand and buckler onto it, the elf kicks off the wall with a twist, her acrobatics aided by the mana-fed winds around her, grabbing hold of the opposite guttering and hauling herself onto the ragged tiling of the roof to re-evaluate the situation. It was not, Katya felt, looking good for her own potential payoff.

These days the streets o' Cenril aren't safe for law abiding folks like us

Sophie :: Carl utters another terrible string of words I cannot write here followed by.."It's a bloody mutt tranforming in public. These days the streets o' Cenril aren't safe for law abiding folks like us. Get im, and 'is pointy eared friends, bunch o'bankers associating with a mutt." He cannot see Jerica's ears for her hood, and assumes the short woamn is another elf., he runs for Jerica, swinging his battleaxe in an arc aimed for the woman's ribs. Barry looses a crossbow bolt towards Katya, then drops the crossbow and readies his beloved crowbar. The twins are called Bill and Will, to avoid confusion. Both identical louts have chainmail armour, huge studded wooden shields and spiked clubs. Bill runs to swing his club towards Jerica's head. Will will attempt to bash Landalathar in the nose with his huge heavy shield, then aim to bonk the lycan on the head with the spiked club for good measure. Selwin, the clerk tries to slip away in the confusion, but has the back of his collar grabbed by Barry, and is lifted ignomiously off his feet by the huge brute.

Jerica did not have time to consider that there is now a lycan shifting in their midst as an axe comes swinging for her torso. It would have cleaved her in two if she had not sprung into action. She had grown up in the circus and been taught well by the acrobats and tumblers even though she had been a flyer and high wire walker. With a soft, "hup" the woman does a simple back flip to avoid the business end of that axe, the follow through aiming her foot for the shaft of the handle to knock it out of the goon's hand. At least this puts her out of range of the club aimed to bat her head right off her shoulders. Coming to a crouch somewhere behind the lycan, Jerica's daggers are still in one hand, minus the blade balanced in finger tips ready to be released at the most convenient target.

Landalathar is seeing double

Landalathar started to growl as his body lurched upwards, muscles rippling as his shirt finally became tatters of what it once was, off the man's body completely. His head swiveled towards the oncoming Will who swung his club only for the werewolf to raise his paw and catch the club. Will was big, Landalathar in wereform was bigger, much to the man's dismay as he jerked him closer. The man was lifted, though it was curious why the lycanthrope was not making any sudden movements further to finish the man, his head snapping as he heard a noise behind. The one free claw shot out backwards, catching Bill by the scruff of his chainmail, a curiousity because wasn't he already in Landalathar's hand? Whatever ferocity the lycan had given into was now given away to craven curiousity, good thing it killed the cat instead of the lycan. Bill was dragged backward, his body tossed towards the wall as the elongated snout of Lan went down to look at Bill and then back up at Will, head tilting. Was this magic? His hands collided together, trying to slam the two back together as if that was somehow going to fix things. A snarl was given as two bodies were still in either claw, twins, how do they work?

Katya had barely been on the roof a moment, and those horrible men down below were already shooting bolts at her? This was much more like ship-to-ship fighting than she'd expected. Honed reflexes had her buckler pushed out towards the incoming bolt, a pulse of mana whipping a tiny cyclonic zone of wind from the rune-enscribed shieldboss, helping draw the bolt against the angled disc of sturdy mithril. Katya grimaces as the force of the bolt jolts along her arm with a shrill ring of metals briefly colliding. With a peeved shriek, Katya draws her scimitar, and launches herself downwards and across to the wall near where Barry held both victim and crowbar. Lightened by the winds, Katya uses her trained physical awareness to crunch her body into a crescent and hits the wall with sword, buckler and feet extended to touch wall and coil like human springs. The moment before inertia is lost and gravity makes further demands of her, Katya pushes off with left hand and foot, descending in a swift pirouette beside Barry, slamming her scimitar towards his crowbar to knock it aside as she follows up with a shieldbash towards the face with her buckler.

A lady once told Carl he should wash his mouth out with soap, to which he replied, in all seriousness, "Wot's soap?"

Sophie :: Carl is kicked in the hand by Jerica's follow through, and takes said hand off the haft of his weapon shaking it and uttering yet another curse, I cannot repeat here. A lady once told Carl he should wash his mouth out with soap, to which he replied, in all seriousness, "Wot's soap?" Holding his weapon one handed, near the twin heads, he drives forward the handle of the huge battleaxe to try to boink Jerica in the face. He will then try to kick out with his huge hob-nailed boot towards the diminuative woman's left knee.

Sophie :: Bill crashes against the wall, letting out a cry of pain, as he hits his head, not that he tends to use his head that much, he is then pulled back towards his foe. Glaring angrily at Landalathar. He grunts. "We don't like bloody pie cans in Cenril." Most likely to the confusion of anyone unfamiliar with the local street slang. "Don't much like shelves neither. You is Personer nun Grater." He thinks he sounds very clever with the last three words, real educated like a proper toff. Finally remembering he is supposed to be fighting, not just throwing 'clever' insults at the wolf, he draws his silver tipped dagger and stabs it towards Landalathar's now hairy flank. Will is too dazed to help his brother just now.

Barry grins, dreaming of the coin from the tooth fairy, in whom he still believes

Sophie :: Barry is smashed in the face by the shield, breaking his nose for the seventeenth time, and knocking out one of his teeth. He grins, dreaming of the coin from the tooth fairy, in whom he still believes then swings the clerk he is dangling round towards Katya in an attempt to club her with him, still it takes him a while to get much momentum. A merchant's clerk is not exactly the lightest and most manoverable of weapons. Whether or not he is successful in this clerk-attack, he will next poke forward with the sharp end of his much loved crow bar towards the foreign woman's belly.

Jerica has a moment of satsfaction in that curse that is quickly wiped away with the whistle of wind parted by the thrust of the handle. At least she had warning and was able, from her crouched position, to duck it. Unfortunately that leaves her little time to avoid the kick. Jerica's own colorful curse explodes much as the pain did in her knee. The left one. Before she loses her balance altogether, Jerica lets loose a knife taking quick aim for the man's throat. She won't waste too much time in teetering to her backside and push-sliding her way to an alley wall to protect her back. A second knife is sent flying after, this time towards her mark, that scrawny clerk. Two more are let go in quick succession, aimed for Barry. If the two--himself and Katya--haven't moved then the elf shouldn't experience anything more than a pass of wind as the pair whiz past her head and seek to find a new sheath in the 'guards' body. Jerica isn't at all worried about the other two, a lycan seems to have them well in hand. Or is it paw?

Landalathar was distracted as he tried to divine a way to get the two bodies back together, Bill however seemed alright with this and Landalathar snarled as he felt the silver slide over his wrist. Blood start to come out of his wrist, though he was lucky it only was a glancing blow. His head reared back, roaring as his hand shook Bill with all that bestial fury. Down Bill was sent to the ground, Landalathar jumping on top of him, using his brother Will to come down, bashing the skull of the other. They. Would. Go. Back. Together. And they would die. Lycan blood was spilling all over the ground as his body was pumping. Whatever was going on around him was forgotten as blood squirted outwards from the scene, his and Will's and Bill. The twins were probably dead as the lycan's chest was beating outwards, though it started to collapse downwards. His breathing started to heave as he fell towards the ground, deep breaths starting to calm as he was started to transform back into an elf, his body slumped over next to the two twins.

Dmitri had a big brawler named Ulaf who had picked up a sheep and thrown it at her

Katya <{ Katya's satisfaction at the crunch of shield on Barry's big cabbage nose is shortlived. This was definitely starting to remind her of time when her captain Alexandrei had decided to raid Dmitri's village over fishing rights. Dmitri had a big brawler named Ulaf who had picked up a sheep and thrown it at her after she had thrown a dagger into his shoulder. That raid had not ended in sparkling fashion. But this raid, well... as Barry finally gets the screaming and whimpering clerk gibbering through the air like a loose-bowled club, Katya bounces away with a windboosted hop, keeping her bodyweight forward so she lands in a sprinter's crouch, legs coiled to leap forward the moment the clerk swings past her. Not quite far enough, though, when the clerk's legs whip through the air in front of her face to the chorus of the clerk's "Nonononononooooo Please Olric Noooooaargh!". The clerk's muddy boot snapped Katya's head sideways, like a good boxing hook, and a moment is lost as the elven mercenary regains her focus, completely missing the fact that the clerk is now accessorising his shirt with a dagger and spreading bloodstain. Katya -does- notice the further two daggers and, believing them to target the clerk (and not Barry), she snarls and manages to snap one out of the air with a skilled jab of buckler, while forcefully pushing her scimitar into the path of the thug's crowbar to keep it from opening a rent in her stomach as she stamps a kick at his knee. Whether the kick is brutalising Barry's kneecap or not, Katya pushes her buckler against the crowbar with a spinning step to release her scimitar and slashes with it at Barry's wrist, aiming to sever or weaken his grip in the unknowingly dagger-struck clerk. Katya continues to apply pressure on the crowbar with the buckler, making the use of it as a weapon a little more difficult, while she quickly evaluates the scene. Oh hell. The elf -was- a wolfman. And what a brute. And the female assassin certainly seemed to know her work, from the flying daggers which were even now making Katya nervous. All in all, a recipe for disaster. Katya mutters to herself "All of this trouble is being because of a hundred gold. My luck is bad. This was terrible job to accept" And then she notices that Barry is wearing a dagger necklace with scarlet trimming, and the clerk is on the ground, squirming. Katya stamps her foot in frustration "Oh... piss in the wind! I have lost? Damn it! I am going to kill man who hires me!"

It now seems that Carl couldn't even count to whatever number comes next after two

Sophie :: Carl thinks he gets hit by one, two er whatever number comes next after two daggers. Though his throat was spared that dagger burying itself in his shoulder instead, and he is not dead yet, it is looking most unlikely he will live long enough to learn how to count to three. Blood squirts from the most serious of the whatever number comes next after two wounds with each beat of his heart, since one dagger severed an artery. The bloody banker of a Merchant's clerk is just that bloody, covered with Carl's precious life's blood. A little of his own vital fluid mingle's with the yob's at Jerica's dagger buries itself deep in his bicep. The weasel man panics, and screams again and again. "Help! Help! I am hit." It now seems that Carl couldn't even count to whatever number comes next after two correctly, since he is in fact hit by only two daggers, the third burying itself low in Barry's throat to produce the aforementioned dagger necklace.

Sophie :: Will had recovered his senses after being dazed. He proceeded to try to daze himself once more by aiming to head butt a huge great hairy werwolf, unsucessfully. Will was not at the front of the line when brains were being handed out. Some say he joined the wrong line entirely and had his skull filled with a pair of kidneys. In a short time folks may be able to check for themseleves, the way the lycan is smashing up the now corpses of both brothers.

Jerica sneers in disgust. This is what passes for thugs these days? Disgraceful

Jerica sneers in disgust. This is what passes for thugs these days? Disgraceful. Since Carl will bleed out soon enough, Jerica hobbles to one leg and half walks, half hops towards the downed man to jerk the dagger from his body and finish him off with a lovely new smile just under his jaw. Blood is wiped from the blade on the dead man's own shirt. Sparing a glance to the reverted elf among the bodies of the dead twins, she steps past then and Katya to retrieve her other blades, cleaning them in the same manner before they are slipped into their pocket. Not once had her hood slipped, probably pinned in place, so her face yet remains hidden. "A hundred gold?" she says offhandedly, probably hearing the female's tirade even from where she'd been. "You got scammed. This bloke," she toes the clerks corpse, "Was worth a thousand dead." Turning on her heel, the tiny woman calmly makes her way to the mouth of the alley, once again glancing down at the male elf dispassionately. "Messy."

Landalathar started to lift himself off the ground, his abdomen flexing as he was now completely shirtless, on signs of exhaustion visible. Blood was speckled across his cheeks, his head shaking back and forth as he blinked a few times. Lan coughed, the silver that hit his system was more than enough to make him cough up a spot of blood as he looked up towards the bodies, the throbbing in the back of his head was more than enough to tell him that both the males had deserved it. Jerica was heard calling him messy, and it seemed his wit wasn't lacking tonight as he turned back, calling her way, "At least I'm a good time, no fun if no one gets sticky."

Landalathar, you look like something cat coughed up

Katya grinds her teeth, too irritated to even bother with trying to save the clerk, preferring instead to rap the back edge of her scimitar in pent-up frustration "One thousand? One -thousand-?!? The man who hired me will be finding himself paying for privilege of scamming me, darling." Katya mimics the man, "'My valued employee is missing, please find him, here's a little something for your efforts'" before spitting "Cheh! I will string him up by his innards and feed him his own balls unless he pays me for privilege of living, the lying swine." Katya sighs, forcibly expelling her anger. She points her buckler at Jerica "You are being good with daggers, darling. I ever need to hire you, how shall I be calling you? I am Katya." Katya then gives the other elf an appraising look "Landalathar, you look like something cat coughed up. Really, darling, it is no wonder you don't spend money on anything more than rags if you go doing this all the time. Is hell on wardrobe, this wolf business."

Jerica stops, not because of Katya's temper tantrum over a bit (okay a lot) of gold. The grand would keep her fed and housed for a while after her deal with Muraski was up. No, Jerica stops because of the lycan's parting shot at her. Slowly she turns, stares through the shadows of her hood at the near naked male and says, "I've had better times." The subtle movement of her head-covering is the only indicaton her attention has shifted nonchalantly to Katya, "You can send or post notes up to Truth. I'll get them."

Landalathar cleared his throat, glancing to Katya and then to Jerica, his lips pulling up, as he leaned back against the wall, "You didn't get the ride." And the conversation was over, given by his head turning back to Katya, "I'm new too it... Good thing I already fill out my pants before, this might be a little more awkward." The lycanthrope gave a grunt as his head fell into his hand, "I can't... Particularly control it yet... Eh, it's safer with me shirtless, I think."

If I am to be calling people silly things, then I shall call you Knifelady instead

Katya slides her scimitar back into its scabbard "Truth? I cannot be calling someone 'Truth'. Is silly. If I am to be calling people silly things, then I shall call you Knifelady instead, until I am knowing proper name." Mostly it was the irritation of both having her own payoff killed, and learning it was merely a tenth of what Jerica had just earned. Jealousy was always being ugly emotion. As the assassin leaves Katya turns to the elf "Is safer with you wearing leash, collar, and muzzle darling. Shirtlessness is just being male flaunting. I am instead suggesting you go to northwestern corner of city, and use public baths. You reek of alley and blood."

You trying to get me out of my pants?

Landalathar grunted and started to stand upwards, his body shifting, after all, the transformation left him sore, "Eh, I'm not flaunting... You trying to get me out of my pants? Then I might be flaunting." His thumb hooked in the hem of his pants as he eyed the woman, glancing down, "I suppose I could use a shower."

Katya laughs "The expected response, da? But please be excusing me, darling. I have a swine of a man to be doing violence to. Enjoy your bath!" With a swift sequence of sinuous steps and expenditure of mana, Katya once more dances with the winds. The elven mercenary bounds halfway up one wall, kicks off it with a twist to make a soaring leap to the roof on the opposite side. Without the added complications and distractions of flying daggers and bolts, Katya nails the landing gracefully this time, then slips away into the city to make good on her threat to her 'employer'. Sophie's player played myriad npcs.