I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Katarya and Dáire are contracted to retrieve a special item of great value to Aurae, Mistress of The White Hart tavern.

Fellsgard is the foundation of Khy'eras' history and through reconstruction, it is now a vibrant and lively city. People reside here due to mild climate, opportunities, and safety and stability. Adventures often start from Fellsgard. Read more...
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Ksenia
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Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Ksenia »

Muslin fabric billowed over the cutting table as Mr. O’Dell snapped it open. “The proper fabric’s a mid-weight linen. Should do well enough for his Lordship.” Mr. O’Dell smoothed out a bubble in the fabric. “We need to make a muslin first for Mr. Black and his lady.” He handed her a color sketch of the ladies’ uniform. “Please ask me should you have concerns.”

Ksenia began plotting points from the center front line. She’d need to be accurate or the pieces wouldn’t fit Katarya. As she worked, Mr. O’Dell rummaged through some papers and pulled one labeled “Mr. (Artemis) Black” to set on the table top.

After she’d sketched out the shapes of the pieces, Mr. O’Dell came behind her and double checked her work. “I would allow more here-” he pointed to where a channel for boning would go - “as the boning takes more room than it would appear.” Ksenia nodded and moved her marks over, rubbing out the old ones. While Ksenia plotted, Mr. O’Dell had padded his female dress form to match Katarya’s measurements. “Normally, you would do this yourself, but considering time is of the essence-” he shook his head. “You’ll do this on the next one.”

Ksenia cut out the pieces, leaving room to sew them together, and stacked them all in one pile. The sun had begun to set by the time she’d finished. “I should probably head home and let you close up shop,” Ksenia said. “Thank you for your help, and for teaching me. I’ll take these with me and sew them up tonight. Tomorrow, then, Mr. O’Dell?”

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow, Ksenia,” Mr. O’Dell replied. He pulled the curtains closed on the windows and walked her to the door. “Do be careful crossing the city.”

Ksenia’s pocket bulged with the fabric pieces, but she was eager to get started - after a good meal.

*

The second day working on the livery went well; by lunch time, the muslin passed Mr. O’Dell’s inspection, and she began cutting out the actual fabric when she returned from eating. With any luck, she could get at least one of the garments sewn tonight, and then the other garment and embellishments the next day. That left an entire day for mistakes, seams ripped and resewn, and additions. Mr. O'Dell suggested the addition of a few pockets - as soon as Artemis's outfit was ready, he'd demonstrate how to add practically invisible pockets and bands to hold daggers, charms, potions, and whatever else might be necessary.

*

The outfits were finished at the end of a very long third day. Under Mr. O'Dell's tutelage, Katarya's skirt and bodice had been equipped with a number of secret pockets and loops to hold any charms, daggers, or vials she might need; Artemis's jacket and breeches had been similarly modified. Ksenia ran the lint brush over the outfits once more before she carefully rolled them into a bundle to carry. Her part was done, assuming nothing else went wrong. She'd double checked with Mr. O'Dell that her last-minute, "Hail Cecilia", emergency plan was also ready. She hoped dearly that she'd never have to use it.
Last edited by Ksenia on October 24th, 2019, 3:17 am, edited 2 times in total.
Word count: 546
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Katarya Frost
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Witch
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Katarya Frost »

Kat laid out what she would prepare for the contract, thanking Ny’tha that the preparation of tools was complete. Using so much magic in such a short time had left her bone weary.

First of all, she had her dagger, the one Dáire had so generously given her, which she had named ‘Ercá’. She wondered if she should take it … it was precious to her, just as it was to him; his own sister’s blade. But the enchantment she had put on it might prove useful; one prick on the skin of a target, and they would be stupefied; as if stuck dumb. This would be useful in getting an item - hopefully the bracelet for Aurae - from Lady Dirge, without actually stabbing her. Kat wondered if she was the best person to do the deed … she didn’t have a lot of experience stabbing people. Perhaps Artemis could use it?

Speaking of Artemis, she brushed her hands over the bracelet and earring. Scrying had revealed protection spells woven into it, and Nyx had confirmed it. How it would do so, was another matter. Kat guessed she would have to find out if the need arose, and whether or not it would cause them any trouble.

Lastly she had four wristbands made of string. These were certainly the least pretty, but they were what she was most proud of. It had taken her the full four days of preparation to make; one would be given to each of her associates, and she had woven into them a very specific enchantment. She smiled at her own handywork; it had been exhausting, but it might prove very valuable! It was important to her that she show her worth during this exercise, as her role was the least defined of the four, until they met and finalised everything.

---

The days passed by, and she finally set out to meet the others; to fulfil her contract.
Word count: 327
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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Dáire
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Dáire »

He smiled, he wasn't wrong, Dáire had learnt at a young age how to handle his problems by himself, for he would have been a very long gone elf otherwise .“As much fun as I think we could have teaching that arsehole a lesson, I’d ruin my reputation if I brought help along.” He winked, the smile turning crooked as his mind wandered, “It’s all we have, as I’m sure you’re all too aware.”

Dáire tried to hide his wince as Artemis began to better explain, just how Raen had twist the mans words in his version of the retelling, typical bard, he thought to himself. It was hard not to feel sympathy for the man, he knew how prickly his friend could be, and couldn’t imagine the trials of trying to navigate anything closer than their relationship was. “Yeah, “ He started somewhat ruefully, “She was rather drunk and upset after, you are going to have to make it clear to her that Raen either mistook you or twisted things for his own amusement”

Running his fingers through his long hair as it flopped onto the blanket beneath him, he knew just how volatile that conversation could prove to be and prayed to Ny’tha that she would heed his advice and listen to the man. “and I’m sorry to hear you don’t have the sort of back up we have found within the Hart. From what I’ve gathered, I would agree, she does believes those at the Goose are your family., like she has found here”

Dáire paused, pulling his lanky frame back into an upright position and folding his long legs beneath him. He studied the thief’s sharp profile as he hung his head over the desk wearily, seemingly needing to get all this out, even if it was to a relative stranger. “For what it’s worth, I know you’re not my biggest fan Artemis, but should you find yourself stuck, I have been where you are and I will help if you ask it of me. Aurae found me when I wasn't much older than you and … well, we don’t need to go into that, but the offer stands from this day forth.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he made eye contact with the young man again, “I don’t like seeing my friend unhappy, I hope for both your sakes that the issues are resolved without further emotion turmoil … or any further late night girl chats for me, since I’m supposedly a ‘girl’ friend now.” , he chuckled, unable to keep a straight face at the notion.

Rising to his feet and stretching his arms above his head, he ambled over behind the thief and peered over his shoulder. Watching and listening as Artemis drew the routes along the maps with a finger, snickering when he stated he would have no trouble causing the lady frost to blush, “If you can go toe to toe with Raen? I have no doubt you can accomplish that friend.”

Dáire was still not completely confident in the guard rotations, he was going to have to lie low, wait and hope they didn’t change when things too drastically when everything went to hell with their diversions. The almost childlike delight that sparked in Artemis’ eyes as he planned out the diversions, had Dáire grinning right back at the man in an equally juvenile manner, “Kat was defiantly right to bring you in on this job.” He said to the young thief through a grin, he may even come to like this human as well. How his world had been turned on it’s head in the past month.

“You can stay here and look over those more if you’d like, I really should go and take care of this other matter.” He said as he turned, gathering his cloak, assortment of daggers, weapons belt and his favourite bow, before making his way to the door on unhurried steps. Opening it he turned back to Artemis, “Just don’t maim or threaten anyone please, Élara would string me up if you did. Otherwise, I shouldn’t get in too much trouble for leaving you here.” He winked at him, slipping out of sight and into the dark corridor.
Word count: 731
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Artemis Black
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Artemis Black »

Artemis nodded at Dáire’s wisdom. Reputation was the only real currency that mattered when you dealt in the lawless and dangerous. Gold can be taken, forged, or simply never appear. Reputation took time to build, and could be destroyed in a moment. A man without it had less than the alleyways; they could be relied upon to stink.

His expression darkened slightly as his fears about Katarya’s misunderstanding were validated. Though there was a small tick of a smile on his mouth when the elf offered his hand in times of trouble. “It’s not that I dislike you in particular. Just a bit worried about people being closer than I to someone I have given so much to. Though I see that isn’t how things should be done, I think I could enjoy having people to call friends one day, though I hope to never need to call upon you,” Artemis said as he looked away from the elf. Despite his pouring of his heart he was still rather embarrassed when it came to his feelings for Katarya.

“Speaking of Raen, I’ll need to set him right. Think I can manage that without burning the place down as long as neither of us are drinking.” Artemis smiled wryly at the thought. He’d need to avoid alcohol as he was looking over the maps anyway. When Dáire made to leave Artemis nodded to him, giving him a wave before turning his attention back to the maps. He was so focused, he didn’t even hear the door close.

Artemis was rechecking a sheet helpfully titled ‘Emergency Procedures’ to make sure his plan was reasonable. It didn’t seem unusual, the guards were to rush to secure the hall, and the permanent staff would hustle the family and select guests into a secured area. Artemis rubbed at his cheek and made another notation on the map, marking a hallway as dangerous. He felt a tickle in his throat and reached for his drink, frowning when there was nothing there.

The thief blinked, looking around the desk in minor confusion. Then it hit him, he wasn’t home, and he didn’t have a drink. He grimaced and stood to stretch, letting his shoulders and ankles pop to release tension. ‘Guess I need to go downstairs and ask nicely. Might as well set Raen straight, or off my tail, while I’m down there,’ he thought as he shook out his muscles. He got halfway down the hall before his mind was distracted by dissecting the plan again. He moved down the stairs with his usual quiet, but was so involved in his planning he couldn’t have said if the main floor was dead silent or in a rousing party.
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Raen Silver
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Raen Silver »

Artemis walked in a more lively evening in the White Hart.

On the small stage, stripped to his waist, the young, silver haired bard known as Raen Silver was singing to an adoring audience. Behind him, a woman played a merry flute, and he sang along, going this way and that, singing in Elvish. Whatever he was singing about, it must have been quite amusing as he had most of the crowd laughing and clapping along. Some even gave amused shock when he delivered a specific line.

After a minute or so the song came to an end and Raen received his warm round of applause with gleaming eyes and an elaborate bow that spoke nothing of humility.

{"You are my darling! Have a wonderful night!}" He then hopped gracefully down to the floor, and made his way over to the car. "{A glass of something wicked for someone so wonderful}" He demanded with a grin, then turned back to the crowd who were taking their sears. As Artemis made his way into the room, many heads turned his way, and Raen's eyes lit up. He held up his cup in a greeting.
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"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."
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Artemis Black
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Artemis Black »

Artemis frowned as his ears started to actually hear the goings-on in the room. Then everything fell relatively silenct and he flinched as much of the room turned their ire on him. “I uh- Dáire needed to deal with work. Said I should ask if I needed something. I need water, or the gentlest ale I can get,” Artemis said, looking at Raen who was at least offering him a non-hostile greeting.

He moved towards the man, offering a hand out and clasping the bard’s wrist when it was accepted. He wasn’t carrying his weapons right now, or at least not all of them. “You are terribly pleasant on the eyes, but I didn’t want to tumble with you. Just have some care and a warm bed. I’ve got enough problems without you making them up for me,” he said, offering a smile to reduce any sting in his words. After a slight hesitation he added a gentle lilt of birdsong. {Friend.}
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Dáire
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Dáire »

As Dáire stepped out the door of the White Hart, rain pelted the worn cobbles of the narrow street, water collecting in the many dips and hollows. Small rivers of murky water flowed along the sides, carrying various things that Dáire did not want to look too closely at. Ensuring his hood was well up, he pulled his cloak close and strode off in the direction of Jacidon Dorlar’s town home.

The walk over in the Pheriss cursed rains, had only managed to add more fuel to the fire he’d been at-tempting to keep from escalating into an inferno of fury all day. Ever since Sara had told him of the stunt Jack had pulled with the nobles, that arrogance the foolish half-ling had displayed and then to top it off, he hadn't been wise enough to follow through and delivery the blank bag to Dáire, well, Dáire was now ready to draw blood for the utter disregard he had shown him.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins as his heart rate began to race, the closer he came to his quarries home. Anticipation rode him as he rounded the last corner, and came to a stop at the back of Jacks two store home. Candle light illuminated the thin drapes from within, shadows periodically passed before the windows. Large, male shadows – Jack had prepared for his visit. How thoughtful he mused to him-self as he perched atop the wall surrounding the back yard. Pulling his bow from his back, he knocked one of the special arrows he’d purchased on one of his many trips through Ajteire into his bow. The arrows were spelled, it made him grateful humans were on the whole, oblivious to the magic laid with-in items for these arrows hummed in his grasp.
Breathing deeply, in an attempt to dampen his anger Dáire drew back his bow, letting an arrow loose and straightening again. There was a faint tinkle of glass as the arrow struck the window pane, sailing clear through as the enchanted tip allowed it to, and sinking into the back of a burly man as he reached for the door at the far side. The brute dropped to the floor with a solid thump, there was no hope that the others within the house hadn't hear it.

Skipping silently along the boundary wall and out of view from the now broken window, he eyed up the jump that would take him from the wall onto a small second story balcony, the broken railing surrounding the small area hanging limply by a few spokes. The room beyond the battered doors was dark, just as well as he was fairly certain the hinges on those doors, may produce an almighty squeak. Noiselessly he hopped and landed in a crouch on the small ledge, enraged men’s voices rose up from the room directly below. Dáire’s face slipped into a cruel smile as he eased the door open, the creaking hinges no longer audible over the voices that guldered below him.

The room he walked into wasn't overly large, the roof of which skimmed the top of his head as he made his way across. Mildew saturated the air and dust puffed up in little clouds with each carefully placed step he took across the desolated room.
“What was it?” A coarse, heavily accent voice yelled from outside on the landing, one not originating in Fellsgard that was for sure. Suppressing a growl as the sound tore through his heightened hearing, Dáire eased the door open, his eyes landing on a human man of average height and made more of blubber than muscle, leaning over the banister overlooking the entryway below. Easing forwards, he came a few feet behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. The man flinched as he spun around. Right around as Dáire’s dagger swiped in the opposite direction, splitting the man’s neck wide open like one might over ripe fruit. Dáire sprung forwards, grabbing the man under the arms as he crumpled to the ground, hands flying to his throat as if he could keep the blood within his body. Grunting he caught the made weight, muffling what would have been a tremendous thud had the oaf free fallen.

“Brody! …Brody what was that noise?” The new comers voice had Dáire’s head snapping to the stair case and rising swiftly back to his full height. Scanning his surroundings, he darted to the wall that led up to, the top of the stairs, laying his back flat against the wall and drawing his long daggers from their sheaths. Body tense and breath quick, he lay in wait as his keen ears pin pointed the position of the two sets of boots that made their way cautiously up the stairs and towards him. His heart beat thumped in his chest and in his head, his muscle twitching as he anticipated the scuffle that was going to ensue. He’d had the element of surprise with the first two, these two knew to be on guard.

A foot landed on a creaky floor board, mere steps from the top and then silence fell over the house. Nothing but the rain outside could be heard. Drawing in a deep breath, Dáire flung himself around the corner, bringing up a leg and slamming his foot squarely into the chest of a tall man, heavily muscled but much shorter than himself, his startled face disappearing back down the stair case as he landed in a heap on the small landing. The second man wasted no time, advancing on Dáire with speed he had not seen in a human do so in – and the his eyes caught tips of the pointed ears, slipping through the man’s wavy hair. The lean half-ling swung at Dáire with a saber in one hand and a short dagger in the other, ducking just as the blade passed over his head he lashed out with an arm, aiming for the man’s thigh, but he had anticipated such a move and deftly jumped back, landing a few steps further down the stairs. The mans eyes burned with rage when they once again met his, glancing briefly back at his fallen comrade and then to the oozing corpse to Dáire’s right, the man snarled and launched into action again. Side stepping the man’s first lunge, he brought the hilt of his dagger down hard on the man’s back, eliciting a grunt from his attacker as he stumbled forwards and onto the landing, narrowly avoiding tripping over his friend. The man at the bottom of the stairs groaned, diverting Dáire’s attention for the briefest of moments, but costing him dearly. White hot pain lanced through Dáire’s side as the half-lings’ blade sunk into his side, the cold metals ragged edge dragging against the edges of his new wounds as the assailant withdrew his blade, his arm drawing back to strike again. Panic flooded him for an instance before he got his thoughts together again, if that sharp bugger got another strike, he was screwed. Dropping to the floor he managed to roll out of direct striking distance, gritting his teeth as the torn flesh pulled and burned. Pulling a dagger from his boot he flicked it towards the man, the blade finding home in his thigh. Yelping in pain the half-ling dropped his guard, attention focused on removing the small blade from his muscle. This affording Dáire the opening to clock the man across the temple, with the pommel of his large dagger. The man dropped to the floor like a stone.

The pain from his side sapped Dáire’s strength as he heaved in a ragged breath, the stretching of the torn muscles making him go light headed. Bracing himself against the wall, he composed himself and prepared himself mentally for the pain moving was going to evoke. Looking around he retrieved his strewn bow and arrows and clasping a hand on the oozing wound to staunch the bleeding, Setting about making his way down the stairs fully, he cracked the remaining man on the head again having reached the bottom, just in case he should think to get up again.

The sound of someone frantically trying to unlock a sticky door reached Dáire’s ears, drawing him towards the rear of the home again. He smiled when he saw the pale parlour of the Jack, the mans face was drawn in terror as his hands shook uncontrollable around the lock and key.

“Oh Jack, do you really think you can out run me now?” The cold malice in his voice seemed to have the desired effect. Jacks escape attempts ended abruptly; wide horrified eyes spun on him. The man smiled but it was weak, the fear rolling off him betraying any front he tried to present.
“Dáire …. Old friend … lets discuss this.” Jacks heart felt as though it was going to burst through his chest as he watched the huge man before him.

Dáire snorted, ignoring the pain in his side and began absently playing with one of his more lethal looking daggers. Having receive no reply Jack went on, pulling out a linen bag from his waist band. “Look I have it! You can take what you came for, a-and we can all go on our way!” The mans voice rose, hysteria creeping in as he watched the elf’s face for any tell-tale signs, but his grin only broadened and Jack felt his stomach hit the floor.

“Oh Jack, that was the original deal. I get what I want and you get to keep your pitiful lifestyle. Extra guests were not on the agreed terms I’m afraid.” Dáire cooed, his cruel grin spreading as he dropped his head and shook his head. Before Jack could even react, the elf’s head snapped up and Jack found a long dagger protruding from his chest. Shock, anger and desperation flittered across his features in quick succession, before he crumpled to the floor, in an ever-expanding pool of blood.

Dáire sighed, his weary body slouching against the wall as he breathed through the pain his sharp action had just caused. His gaze remained for a time on the man, now growing cold before him. Shuffling forward, he drew the now slightly bloody linen bag from the corpses grasp. Checking the contents within and praying to Ny’tha that it was what he had sought. His senses were too clogged in agony, to determine whether there was any magic about it or not. Stumbling slightly, he made his way back through the house and out the unlocked front door, stiffly making his way onto the street beyond.

It took him twice as long to get back to the Hart, at least twice as long by the time he had wheezed and stumbled the filthy wet streets, avoiding the worst areas that would have seen as easy prey. Arriving at the tavern, and using a hand to steady himself by the door, he was too late in realising he left a large bloody hand print on the door. Fumbling with the door handle he entered the almost empty main room, heading straight for his own quarters. This injury couldn’t wait any longer.
Word count: 1914
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Raen Silver
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Raen Silver »

The Elf inclined his head slightly. "Making them up?" Raen shook his head. "The only words I spoke were those that came from your own mouth, dear Salquë. 'If you've got a bed that's warm, I wouldn't mind those arms around me to greet the stars.' I believe was your exact phrasing. And that is all I told the witch. Should she drawn conclusions from such words, then this beleaguered bard is not to be held accountable.".

Raen rose, taking his lute and inclining his head. "Namárië {farewell} Salquë, and good luck." With that, the Elf went and took his place on the stage, grinning as a quite cheer lit the room. >"Good evening, my lovelies! Now a song, for the broken hearted."< And he began to sing a song of lament and sorrow, his beautiful voice clear and sad, but he did take the time to occasionally 'make eyes' at one or two members of the audience.
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Katarya Frost
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Katarya Frost »

Kat took a seat with her co-conspirators. This was the day, this was the time. Her heart fluttered in her chest with nerves.

Kat reached into her bag and set out her things on the table. “I have these; they may not look like much but … they should be helpful.” She motioned to the small dagger. “This is enchanted with a spell that will stupefy whomever it pricks; it doesn’t have to actually injure someone; as long as it breaks the skin even the tiniest amount, the spell will activate. When it does, the person will be put into a trance for a few seconds, just enough time to relieve said person of a particular desired object. I’m not sure who is going to do the deed … I’ll leave that up to the group.”

She then laid out three pieces of string, each bearing two knots, one small, and one double knotted. “These may not be as pretty, but they should be a lot more useful; the first knot will have much the same effect as the dagger; except that it will act on a wider scale. If you undo the knot, the spell will be released and everyone close by you will become quite unsure of what is happening around them, getting confused and disorientated; thus giving you chance to … well, I don’t know; escape, cause a problem, change something .. whatever you need. But it will only last a few seconds so whatever you do, you need to do it quick. Also, and I apologise for this, I don’t know just how far the spell will radiate; not very far, I suppose but ... well, I’m not I’m not quite an expert at this kind of magic just yet.” She touched the second, larger knot. “This one is for emergencies only. The spell woven into it will cause any light within a few feet of you to go out when you undo the knot, hopefully causing enough darkness to let you make a getaway; though you’ll have to be quick. It’s also a kind of ‘last resort’, as it people are bound to suspect magic when something like that happens. Also, as long as you are holding the string, your own vision will not be affected. She glanced up. “I know it’s not conjuring lightning or summoning spirits from the underworld, but I’m afraid it’s the best a rather inexperienced witch can pull off. I didn’t know who was doing what, so I made three … just in case.” She sat back. “It was honestly the best I could do; eight enchantments in four days is not something one usually tries to pull off, and I admit to feeling completely exhausted. I might not be much use on the magic front for a couple of days, now.”

“I believe the plan was for Dáire to take the bracelet from a hidden location and leave with it, so that whomever is inside won’t be suspected of anything, if they try and search the staff. If needed, Nyx will be on hand and can always whisk the thing away if the need calls for it. She’ll also be able to give a warning if any unwanted magic is happening. She’ll be sticking with Dáire.”

With a croak, Nyx hopped over to Dáire's shoulder, giving the Elf's cheek a nudge with her head, warbling out a gentle greeting.

Katarya took a breath and sat back, rubbing her brow. “And that’s it from me!”
Word count: 599
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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Artemis Black
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Re: I'l Fana Kelbé (The White Hart) Contract: 'Retaking a Memory'

Post by Artemis Black »

Artemis grunted and looked away from the bard. He was acting like they all did. They’d embellish and create words to spread to others, but when confronted swear up and down they’d done nothing but speak the word exactly from the page. Internally the thief moved Raen from potential friend to the frustrating obstacle category. The elf hadn’t even helped him get water.

Artemis locked eyes with the nearest server who was ignoring him. After several long moments of this they came over to him with an exasperated look, “What is it Salquë?” the elf asked.

“As a guest of Dáire I politely request a pitcher of water that I might return to his room and continue without causing further issues,” the thief said with a cool and even tone, even bowing his head slightly. The server shook their head but returned several minutes later with a pitcher. “Take it, and don’t bother me again. You’re not supposed to be wandering.”



Artemis was almost done with the complete notation of the plan onto his map. He just needed to finish a final change and then duplicate it for Dáire. When the door to the room bumped open he didn’t even look up from his work. “Almost done I think. Didn’t realize it was so late,” he said as he marked another possible change into a hallway. When there wasn’t a response he looked up.

Dáire was standing there clutching his side, and that was oozing a good deal of blood. “That’s going to need closing right now,” Artemis said as he jumped up and moved to the man. He shuffled the man to the work surface, sweeping the maps aside with a careful but quick motion. “Sit here, get this chest piece off. I can stitch this up well enough to get you to a real healer in the morning.” There was little room for argument in Artemis’ tone. He knew how deadly these wounds could be, and had seen them worked enough to know how to repair them.

He pulled a small packet from his satchel, inside were hooked needles, gut suture, and a small vial of sticky ointment. Once Dáire’s armor was clear he used the pitcher of water to carefully clean the wound. It was a ragged cut, but didn’t seem to have struck anything too critical. Artemis knelt down and set to work. It wasn’t entirely unlike he was mending a net, or sewing up a tear in his shirt. The hook, long and curved, dug into the skin, pulling the suture across and doing the same. Each stitch was pulled tight, and the wound slowly closed up.

When the job was finished he applied the sticky ointment, sealing over the area and helping keep it clean. “Get to a healer first thing in the morning, or you’ll get an infection I imagine,” Artemis said. Then he gathered up the scattered maps and papers and stacked them neatly on the table. This done, he slumped down against the wall and rolled his cloak into a pillow before closing his eyes. “Kick me out when you have to I guess.”



Artemis looked absolutely haggard as he sat at the table with the others. None of his days had gone well, and the stress of not knowing where he stood with Katarya wasn’t helping. He was impressed by her array of ready-made enchantments though. When she finished and sat he struggled up to his feet, his chair scraping slightly as he stood.

“I’ve got a complete map, including this morning’s changes,” he said as he slid the paper onto the table. “We should be alright on the guards, no new rotations from the contractors at least. So any extra security will be in the danger zone. We’re hoping to avoid active conflict there, and I don’t think this changes that.” Artemis indicated markings and lines on the large map as he spoke. There were areas with hatching and ones with clear stamps of danger, care, safe. “The hatches are the emergency plan, guards will shift to these zones when things go sideways,” he said after laying out the general path of the party, staff and guards.

“The plan is, the inside team," he pointed at himself then Katarya, "will go in as servants. We blend, until we either get a chance to deliver close to the target, or take advantage of this hidden hallway and the tryst option. Either way, we can get in close, grab the gear, and get out. Popping the magic only if we need to.” He stabbed his finger at a line in emerald green ink. “This is the escape route. Hits this door here. That moves us through this unused path to the greenhouse. From there we bust a window if needed and hand off the package to the runner,” Artemis indicated Dáire with a nod. "It is critical the package spends as little time outside the bag as possible," he added at the end.

“Any questions on this part of the plan?” he asked, blinking a few times and then looking around the table.
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