Cloak, Dagger and Smiles
“Whats the password?” Demanded a voice behind an iron door. A pair of dark eyes peered through the narrow slit. The guardsman observed two more cloaked figures before his door, one had a more slender but tall figure while the other was bulkier.
Raising a gloved hand, the slender figure revealed a large coin, its golden surface glinted against the nearby torch's light. With an obviously female voice, the slender figure apologized, “Sorry, I've had a few drinks tonight and I've forgotten it. Give you the last of my drinking money to let me in so I can get to sleep.”
“Go suck slave sores. No password, no entrance.” Barked the guardsman before slamming the slide shut. Clenching both her fists, the woman snarled. While placing his hand on the woman's shoulder the man stepped forward. Slamming his gauntlet covered fist slam several times the Guardsman growled, “Go away or I'll call the guard down on you.”
Pulling back his hood to reveal golden locks that framed a young face, the man explained, “Sorry about my comrade. She's was born with a bad head. Listen, we need to get in to speak to Rion Corpseshipper. We do have an appointment but my friend here was drunk and forgot the password. If you could just confirm my name, it's Dias.”
“Fine, wait here.” Growled the guard as the slit slammed shut. Dias was all at once spun about to see the woman looming over him. He could see the black mask under her hood that was marked with three red gashes.
“What are you doing? This is Del Shira! You don't do that!” She snarled.
Dias' shoulders drooped and he let out a sigh. Letting his baby blue eyes meet the gray ones behind the mask he boldly spoke, “What's your point, Mask? We have legitimate business to handle and you were the one who got bored, drank and forgot the password. So, we have to deal with this. Honestly, not everyone in this city is looking to kill just because they're there.”
“You two lovebirds done?” Came a gruff voice before several loud thunks rang out against the night's silence. With a whine of well oiled hinges, the door slid open revealing the tall, muscular guardsman of Drow descent. His white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, like so many others inside. Flashing the pair a nasty smirk he guard explained, “Mister Rion is downstairs. Don't make any trouble.”
With a nod, the pair entered the inn where a band played while iron collared slaves waited on tables. Mask headed towards the bar until Dias gripped her arm. He then lead her down into the basement by stairs on the right side of the large room. Despite there being several tables, only one was occupied by another Drow, this one with cropped purple hair. His face bore a long scar that ran alongside his nose. Looking up from his bottle, he motioned for the others to join him. Without waiting for them to sit down he said, “You're late.”
“My associate got drunk.” Dias shrugged his shoulders, “Anyway, you've had a chance to look over our proposal. Think you can get the goods into the city?”
Rion's nose flared from its narrow shape as he snorted, “Of course. Though, I'm not sure why you'd need someone to smuggle it in. Beef ain't exactly my usual cargo.”
“You familiar with the recent taxes that got imposed?” Mask asked as she leaned against the wall rather than sit down. Rion shook his head, “To raise some new war funds, the local Nobles decided to raise taxes on certain goods for imports coming into the city. Those were beef, leather, a variety of medical herbs and steel. In other words, things the company needs to keep functioning.”
“What'd you all do to piss off the rich pricks?” Rion chuckled as he poured himself a fresh glass of a cloudy liquid.
“Not us, the Commander. Lucky bastard got his prick wet with the Empress and got caught cause she couldn't keep it down. Now they want to punish us cause they're scared the next Emperor is gonna have wings and scales.” Dias explained as an Elven slave in rags delivered cups for the pair.
Rion waved the woman away, “Just making it clear. I get access to your private docks and protection from the Guard in exchange for bringing in your goods, right?”
“That's the size of it. Bring in your first shipment to our docks and we'll go from there, alright?” Dias confirmed holding out his hand. Rion raised an eyebrow and quickly downed his cup before giving out a long moan.
Slamming his cup down, the man asked, “One last thing, I've heard you all have quite a few ships of your own. Why hire me?”
“Officially speaking, we're sponsored by the Temples, meaning that we don't pay taxes on our territory but on the goods that we ship. So, while that's fine for the Temples since they receive donations, we're subject to heavy taxation on what we need.” Dias lowered his hand to his own cup. Rolling it between his fingers, his eyes flicked to the stairs as a group arrived.
Rion snorted, “You all? A religious group? Right! What god would have anything to do with a bunch of freakish cutthroats like you?”
“Who else but the Goddess of Dragons, whores and mercenaries, Lesara. Lady of the four elements.” Mask snorted.
Dias chuckled, “Yup, and we're all real pious about her teachings. One of which is to be clear in all deals. So, we got an agreement or not?”
“Fine, first shipment will be up in three days, five if the weather turns bad.” Rion nodded before standing up. On unsteady legs, he walked upstairs. Dias rested his cheek on his hand.
Mask leaned over to the bottle that Rion had left. Sniffing it, she recoiled from the booze saying, “Gods, smells like someone pissed in the still. Can we just go?”
“Fine, fine.” Dias threw up his hands. The pair were let out onto the back alley the door faced. As the guardsman quickly locked the door behind them, Dias noticed figures appearing on either side of the alley. All wore long, black cloaks. Dias let out a groan, “What is with this city? Why can't I just organize a basic shipment without this happening?”
“This is Del Shira, my love,” Mask's voice took on a seductive quality as she undid the buttons that held her cloak in place. Letting the fabric fall to the floor, Mask revealed the pair of long daggers she kept along her thighs. Taking a long stride towards the attackers, she continued, “Blood is a part of every deal in this city. This is why I love it, I'll drink and drink and never get full.”
“Yeah, I'll never understand you all. How is killing fun?” Dias folded his arms as Mask leaned into a full run. Sparks danced as the hooded figures drew their swords to protect themselves. With each strike, Mask vanished and appeared in another location. Each of the hooded figures managed to parry several attacks before Mask landed a cut on their arm. Once cut, they collapsed.
Seeing the fate of their allies, the other shadowed figures quickly retreated. Mask sat on one of her victims before pulling back its hood. Her lips pursed outwards as she her voice became shrill, “Aw, these are just dockside thugs. Probably heard about some Phoenixes out on their own. Here I was hoping someone had actually sent them.”
Dias knelt down by the second thug to reveal a younger looking Drow with long, purple hair. Mask let out a gasp causing Dias to groan. Looking to his partner, he asked, “You're taking him with you, aren't you?” Rather than answer, Mask placed a hand to her face and lifted her namesake to reveal a pair of black painted lips. They pressed into wide smile before vanishing back behind her veil.
“Right, right.” Dias nodded and tapped the man on the cheek, “I pity you, buddy. You're going to be her plaything for a while. Good luck.” After pulling the man to the side of the road, Mask snapped her fingers and he vanished. Dias handed Mask her cloak saying, “Alright, let's go report in. The Commander will be happy to have beef stew back on the menu.”
“You're really after that promotion to second Lieutenant, aren't you?” Mask asked in a singsong manner.
Dias slowly shook his head side to side, “Honestly, I'm not after that. I'm just repaying a debt I owe to him. Besides, I like beef steak almost as much as him.”
“You're weird.” Mask teased.
“Says the woman who hides her face but wears lipstick,” Dias pointed at Mask's face. The woman gave only a girlish giggle before skipping away. Pulling his hood up, Dias followed her long strides as best as he could.
Raising a gloved hand, the slender figure revealed a large coin, its golden surface glinted against the nearby torch's light. With an obviously female voice, the slender figure apologized, “Sorry, I've had a few drinks tonight and I've forgotten it. Give you the last of my drinking money to let me in so I can get to sleep.”
“Go suck slave sores. No password, no entrance.” Barked the guardsman before slamming the slide shut. Clenching both her fists, the woman snarled. While placing his hand on the woman's shoulder the man stepped forward. Slamming his gauntlet covered fist slam several times the Guardsman growled, “Go away or I'll call the guard down on you.”
Pulling back his hood to reveal golden locks that framed a young face, the man explained, “Sorry about my comrade. She's was born with a bad head. Listen, we need to get in to speak to Rion Corpseshipper. We do have an appointment but my friend here was drunk and forgot the password. If you could just confirm my name, it's Dias.”
“Fine, wait here.” Growled the guard as the slit slammed shut. Dias was all at once spun about to see the woman looming over him. He could see the black mask under her hood that was marked with three red gashes.
“What are you doing? This is Del Shira! You don't do that!” She snarled.
Dias' shoulders drooped and he let out a sigh. Letting his baby blue eyes meet the gray ones behind the mask he boldly spoke, “What's your point, Mask? We have legitimate business to handle and you were the one who got bored, drank and forgot the password. So, we have to deal with this. Honestly, not everyone in this city is looking to kill just because they're there.”
“You two lovebirds done?” Came a gruff voice before several loud thunks rang out against the night's silence. With a whine of well oiled hinges, the door slid open revealing the tall, muscular guardsman of Drow descent. His white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, like so many others inside. Flashing the pair a nasty smirk he guard explained, “Mister Rion is downstairs. Don't make any trouble.”
With a nod, the pair entered the inn where a band played while iron collared slaves waited on tables. Mask headed towards the bar until Dias gripped her arm. He then lead her down into the basement by stairs on the right side of the large room. Despite there being several tables, only one was occupied by another Drow, this one with cropped purple hair. His face bore a long scar that ran alongside his nose. Looking up from his bottle, he motioned for the others to join him. Without waiting for them to sit down he said, “You're late.”
“My associate got drunk.” Dias shrugged his shoulders, “Anyway, you've had a chance to look over our proposal. Think you can get the goods into the city?”
Rion's nose flared from its narrow shape as he snorted, “Of course. Though, I'm not sure why you'd need someone to smuggle it in. Beef ain't exactly my usual cargo.”
“You familiar with the recent taxes that got imposed?” Mask asked as she leaned against the wall rather than sit down. Rion shook his head, “To raise some new war funds, the local Nobles decided to raise taxes on certain goods for imports coming into the city. Those were beef, leather, a variety of medical herbs and steel. In other words, things the company needs to keep functioning.”
“What'd you all do to piss off the rich pricks?” Rion chuckled as he poured himself a fresh glass of a cloudy liquid.
“Not us, the Commander. Lucky bastard got his prick wet with the Empress and got caught cause she couldn't keep it down. Now they want to punish us cause they're scared the next Emperor is gonna have wings and scales.” Dias explained as an Elven slave in rags delivered cups for the pair.
Rion waved the woman away, “Just making it clear. I get access to your private docks and protection from the Guard in exchange for bringing in your goods, right?”
“That's the size of it. Bring in your first shipment to our docks and we'll go from there, alright?” Dias confirmed holding out his hand. Rion raised an eyebrow and quickly downed his cup before giving out a long moan.
Slamming his cup down, the man asked, “One last thing, I've heard you all have quite a few ships of your own. Why hire me?”
“Officially speaking, we're sponsored by the Temples, meaning that we don't pay taxes on our territory but on the goods that we ship. So, while that's fine for the Temples since they receive donations, we're subject to heavy taxation on what we need.” Dias lowered his hand to his own cup. Rolling it between his fingers, his eyes flicked to the stairs as a group arrived.
Rion snorted, “You all? A religious group? Right! What god would have anything to do with a bunch of freakish cutthroats like you?”
“Who else but the Goddess of Dragons, whores and mercenaries, Lesara. Lady of the four elements.” Mask snorted.
Dias chuckled, “Yup, and we're all real pious about her teachings. One of which is to be clear in all deals. So, we got an agreement or not?”
“Fine, first shipment will be up in three days, five if the weather turns bad.” Rion nodded before standing up. On unsteady legs, he walked upstairs. Dias rested his cheek on his hand.
Mask leaned over to the bottle that Rion had left. Sniffing it, she recoiled from the booze saying, “Gods, smells like someone pissed in the still. Can we just go?”
“Fine, fine.” Dias threw up his hands. The pair were let out onto the back alley the door faced. As the guardsman quickly locked the door behind them, Dias noticed figures appearing on either side of the alley. All wore long, black cloaks. Dias let out a groan, “What is with this city? Why can't I just organize a basic shipment without this happening?”
“This is Del Shira, my love,” Mask's voice took on a seductive quality as she undid the buttons that held her cloak in place. Letting the fabric fall to the floor, Mask revealed the pair of long daggers she kept along her thighs. Taking a long stride towards the attackers, she continued, “Blood is a part of every deal in this city. This is why I love it, I'll drink and drink and never get full.”
“Yeah, I'll never understand you all. How is killing fun?” Dias folded his arms as Mask leaned into a full run. Sparks danced as the hooded figures drew their swords to protect themselves. With each strike, Mask vanished and appeared in another location. Each of the hooded figures managed to parry several attacks before Mask landed a cut on their arm. Once cut, they collapsed.
Seeing the fate of their allies, the other shadowed figures quickly retreated. Mask sat on one of her victims before pulling back its hood. Her lips pursed outwards as she her voice became shrill, “Aw, these are just dockside thugs. Probably heard about some Phoenixes out on their own. Here I was hoping someone had actually sent them.”
Dias knelt down by the second thug to reveal a younger looking Drow with long, purple hair. Mask let out a gasp causing Dias to groan. Looking to his partner, he asked, “You're taking him with you, aren't you?” Rather than answer, Mask placed a hand to her face and lifted her namesake to reveal a pair of black painted lips. They pressed into wide smile before vanishing back behind her veil.
“Right, right.” Dias nodded and tapped the man on the cheek, “I pity you, buddy. You're going to be her plaything for a while. Good luck.” After pulling the man to the side of the road, Mask snapped her fingers and he vanished. Dias handed Mask her cloak saying, “Alright, let's go report in. The Commander will be happy to have beef stew back on the menu.”
“You're really after that promotion to second Lieutenant, aren't you?” Mask asked in a singsong manner.
Dias slowly shook his head side to side, “Honestly, I'm not after that. I'm just repaying a debt I owe to him. Besides, I like beef steak almost as much as him.”
“You're weird.” Mask teased.
“Says the woman who hides her face but wears lipstick,” Dias pointed at Mask's face. The woman gave only a girlish giggle before skipping away. Pulling his hood up, Dias followed her long strides as best as he could.