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Thoughts and words.; Open
Topic Started: Sep 11 2007, 03:42 AM (160 Views)
Azrael Morrigan
Member Avatar
Warlord Prince
Green Birthright
The sun shone dimly over head, masked from its usual brilliance by a smattering of grays and whites. They clouded the skies just as they clouded his hopes, Draega had been good to him, it's sess pit of corruption and beauty, allowing him a place where he wouldn't be noticed, and could still carry out his work.

But time was beginning to bite at him, because throughout his life he had searched for something, someone, but still he was no closer to finding her. It was the curse and the blessing of the Warlord Prince, a driving need to serve. He needed, and wanted to serve, but not just anyone. Only one who he found worthy.

Until he found her though, he would just have to be content with ridding Hayll of the women who fell short of his idea of worthy, and the men who followed them.

He was Azrael Morrigan, Warlord Prince, friend and neighbor, but he was also Azrael Morrigan, executioner. He lead a double life, and that life separated him from those he associated with. Somehow, he always felt alone, even when he was surrounded by friends, and so more and more he had taken to just being alone, as he was now.

Azrael walked leisurely through the streets of Draega, his mind following his tangent thoughts, as his hands rested lazily in the pockets of his black pants. Perhaps a drink would be a good idea, he thought absently, then he could listen for any news, and drown his sorrows a little...

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Nikolai Roerikh
Opal to Sapphire Jeweled WP :: Leader of the Scarlet Night
Storyteller NPC
The runner passed smoothly through the streets of Draega, passing into taverns and other haunts that might attract a very skilled assassin. As the clouds settled over the city he was reaching the end of his rope. He had been everywhere. As he glanced again at the picture his demeanor grayed with the sky. The man in the picture was clearly well bred and very handsome. The runner could kick himself. Azrael’s kind could just as easily find himself at the some of the finer salons in the city. He would have to keep running to catch the man for there was no possibility of his getting into such swanky joints.

He sighed and tucked the picture away again. Niko had offered a substantial reward to whoever found him, and if he was loitering in the high class joints, then one of the whores would probably get it. He checked the darkening sky again, at least it didn’t look like it would rain. Looking back to the crowded street as a new route formed in his head to run the salons, he saw a man standing out from the crowd. The man's leisurely pace and casual grace almost out of place. The runner watched him a bit before the man turned and the runner froze for a second. It was him. The man Niko was looking for.

The runner rushed forward to get his attention, trying to remember his manners and his protocol. This would be tricky. He was skilled in neither, blending much easier with the lower classes. He managed to get the warlord prince to stop and look at him with a halting “’Cuse me.. Sir or prince is it? If you could give me your ear?” The runner frowned at his choice of words and stammered. “I..I mean… if you could listen to what I have to say? Please.” He added at the end. “I have an important message for you.”


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Azrael Morrigan
Member Avatar
Warlord Prince
Green Birthright
Bemused, Azrael waited for the stuttering messenger to spit out exactly what it was he was trying to say.

"I'm listening." Azrael informed him, his voice a smooth, bored sound, as he waited for whatever message this one had for him. It wasn't often that random stuttering strangers approached him in the street, so out of pure curiosity he decided to hear him out. Absently he returned his hands to the pockets of his black slacks, and he looked to the boy with bored patience.

Still overhead the sun fell down on them, dispersed at times by passing clouds, that suddenly threw the whole scene into shadow, but it mattered little. People passed by on either side of them, bustling off to complete business of their own. They cared not for a man and a boy standing in the street.

"Well?" Azrael prompted, "Spit it out."

(OOC: sorry it's so short, couldn't think of much more to say.)
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Nikolai Roerikh
Opal to Sapphire Jeweled WP :: Leader of the Scarlet Night
Storyteller NPC
The messenger grumbled to himself. Warlord princes always messed him up, they were simply too unpredictable and often much too powerful for him to deal with comfortably. This one must be quite powerful for Niko to send for specifically. It was probably best just to get him to Niko, get his reward, and get away from both of them.

“I am sure you savy that such talk might best be done off the street. If ya get my meaning. Please follow me.” The messenger turned to lead the man to the Scarlet Night. After a pause Azrael followed him through the twisting backways of Draega, to a non descript, but not run down, tavern called the flying heron. “In here please prince.” He led the prince into the tavern, and led him to Niko. “Boss. I gots him.” The messenger held out his hand and Niko placed a substantial number of Marks in it, then waved him away. It was part show to let Azrael know Niko was serious about retaining his services and had the marks to afford him.

Niko turned to the prince and greeted him in the friendly open manner of someone used to running a successful tavern. “Pleased to meet you Prince Morrigan. My name is Niko. I am the proprietor of this establishment. Please take a seat with me over here.” He pointed to a table that afforded a great deal of privacy, even in tavern as crowded as the heron. Clearly no real discussion would take place until they were seated away from ears that might overhear them.

Once seated, Niko immediately turned serious, after a quick look around to ensure their privacy, he turned to Azrael and gave an introduction more fitting a fellow assassin. “Obviously, I am aware of what it is you do, and have need of your skills. As you can tell there are some others in the tavern that share our profession. It is equally obvious that they could never manage a more high profile operation. For what I have in mind, I need someone that can blend into the higher levels of society. So now that you have some idea, I must ask if you are interested. Please realize I cannot divulge the full details of the operation until you accept it. Where are my manners? Would you care for something to drink?” He called a barmaid over and ordered a brandy.

(OOC I didn’t give much to work with, sorry, so I hurried it along. If you feel godmodded I will be happy to edit the post to meet your desires.)
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