The town of Longacre sits just outside the fringes of the Whisperwood. A few lights shine in the streets and windows, and the occasional snippet of conversation or laughter issues from open doors, but here on the outskirts of town, the night is quiet and dark. Sparse clouds scud across the sky, momentarily obscuring the dim light from the moon overhead. Across a scrubby field, barely distinguishable under the starry sky, a darkened, fortlike compound hunches in the distance.
Cimri points toward the dim structure. “That’s it—Louslik Tannery. Here’s the job: We break in, sack Ol’ Louslik’s office, take whatever’s shiny, and get out before the sheriff shows up. If we get separated, meet back at the Ash House by dawn.”
Dull moonlight glints across her dagger as she flicks it in emphasis. “If you get pinched, remember: you’re mute. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll handle things. I got assurances that we won’t take any blame if things go south. But get chatty and I’ll let you rot.” A beat passes and her usual crooked smirk appears. “If you don’t screw things up, we’ll all be drinking on Razelago’s coin come dawn. Any question?”
A log palisade surrounds the tannery. In places, gaps between the gray, dry-rotted trunks are wide enough to pass a hand through. To the west, a muddy trail slips beneath a plank gate similar to a barn door. These barriers do absolutely nothing to block the heavy stench of chemicals and dung drifting from within.
With night having well and truly fallen, the often-hunched Kayal stands unusually tall, his sickly eyes peering out across the field with a look that speaks less of his discomfort with the smell—he has, at varying points in his life, known things relatively worse—and more with Cimri's suggestion the Fetchling would do anything but mime ignorance upon capture.
"I look forward to someone else footing the bill," he answers at the mention of drinks, lip corners faintly rising in the dark.
Kayal blinks once, satisfied there is little to be seen from this distance, and instead focuses upon his prior knowledge of the estate.
"The hour is not so late that Louslik himself should be absent. Right about now I understand he should be...Ah. 'Managing his accounts'. How admirable," he offers, the irony not entirely lost on him, and he interlaces a single laugh before continuing. "Night staff consists of two farmhands on delivery, beyond Sir Louslik himself. An elderly pair. Umbre? I believe that was the name. Should not pose much difficulty."
The oracle blinks again, and this time a rogue shadowhand seems to creep across his colourless face, spreading until it consumes him whole. His gaze thus casts across the rest of their troupe, gladly awaiting their input as he prompts: "Just tell me where to start."
Azrael stands tall alongside the fetchling, making no attempt at blending into the shadows. Despite being able to see perfectly well in the dark, his eyes fall on the complex with dispassion, missing fine detail.
"I take it we are supposed to be stealthy about this operation, then? I will admit that my methods typically lack in subtlety. I prefer a straight fight to sneaking around."
The tall aasimar shifts his weight and looks up into the clear, dark sky for a long moment.
"I suppose I can act as a decoy. Draw attention and let the rest of you do what needs to be done. Cimri, is there a moratorium on ending Louslik's wretched existence?"
Cimri shakes her head, "Mora-what? Listen, if my employer wanted a hit on Louslik we'd have just stormed the place and put the man down. This is all about getting what's owed. I was told 'the less bloodshed the better,' but that don't mean we can't hurt him some, just don't need him dyin' on us."
"We would do well to redirect the associates before we try to infiltrate. One man is much easier to handle than three. Good intelligence, whomever you are." Vokrin nods in acknowledgement towards Kayal. "If things get rough, I can probably blast someone hard enough to give them pause without killing them."
To that Kayal offers the briefest bow of his head, though the act might be somewhat difficult to see in the gathering shade, and offers nothing more. Time for proper introductions can be allocated later. For now he stands patient, awaiting instruction, with fingers dancing over the pommel of a knife.
Rurisa conceals her agitation with slow breaths and still form, ready to be done with tonight's work. This wasn't how she'd wanted to start her career; she'd imagined that signing on with the Hellrazors would bring with it a little more prestige, but the bulk of her signing bonus had immediately been devoured by mandatory equipment purchases and an ill-advised night on the town to celebrate. By the time she'd reached Longacre on a brief furlough before starting service, she hadn't two coppers to rub together. Cimri's offer of a job offered her coin she desperately needed, and so Rurisa had swallowed her pride and here she was.
Cimri's injunction against bloodletting set the mercenary's teeth on edge; this expensive arsenal she found herself toting around was just so much dead weight now. "You might have said something before, I'd have picked up a sap." Surveying the building, she speaks softly to the group as a whole, "How many doors does it have? Might be prudent to sent two of us around to come in through the back and catch Louslik if he decides to make a break for it."
Cimri begins drawing in the dirt. "There's a large wall guarding the compound, but there's only one way in or out, this large gate here. When I was asking around town the way to open it is inside, could get loud though. Avoid the vats, they smell like Hell's own a~*~~#*. There are two buildings, the office and the leather working shop. The money'll probably be in the office."
She scratches her head, "Do we have time to wait for the Umbres? Their just old people, I bet if we pushed them over they'd be bedridden 'till their bones healed." Cimri snickers at her own wit.
Rurisa shakes her head firmly. "No, we should wait for the Umbres to arrive before we move. If there's no back door, we can catch all three. If we move now, they might realize something's afoot when they arrive and go for help."
Frowning down at the dirt sketch, she continues, drawing on her training. "It's probably still worth a quick circuit around the tannery, a ground-floor window could still sink this little operation. I also have a rope and grapple here, if we decide we need it."
"No objections. In the meantime, a more thorough overview would not do us any harm." Kayal squints out into the distance one more time before letting loose of the pack on his shoulders and rummaging through its contents. The only objects he retrieves are a well-sharpened pair of scissors and a mirror, of which the former fits snug under the leather of his belt.
"Midnight willing, this should not take long. If I should find something..." He angles the mirror to catch the moonlight; a simple trick, visible even to mundane eyes.
Kayal's wanderings prove fruitful as he finds a small area of the fence that has been hit enough it can be used to sneak in with a slight squeeze. He also hears the sounds of snoring and chuffing of breath from an animal close to the office building.
There are no windows into either of the buildings.
After about a half hour you hear the sounds of people coming in the distance, lightly arguing about where the 'best hauls' are to be found in and around Longacre. A torch billows its light out from their flower-painted handcart, full of chamber pots and smelling something fierce, even from the distance you're at. The torch also appears to have ruined their night-vision as the old man stumbles against a rock, not 3 feet from his foot.
Cimri flicks out her kukri and begins cleaning her nails. "Suit yourself."
Cimri is visibly trembling with excitement and nerves, and when the elderly Umbres arrive in the distance she nearly squeals with delight. She whispers breathlessly to you, "All right, they're here, how do you want to do this?"
His efforts rewarded, Kayal returns in good time, wandering back across the fields to offer his findings.
"There are no windows, but an opening does exist to the north; at the corner of the structures. It is not a great span, and may require contortion..." He eyes Rurisa and Azrael, armour-clad as they are, and merely blinks once before going on, "...But it is doable, and silent."
Kayal pauses, seeming to frown as he adds, "It also appears Louslik owns some manner of mongrel, or something like it. An animal sleeps by the office. If we do not announce ourselves, once awakened, it will surely do so in our stead."
"Remove them from the situation," Kayal whispers, reaching for his morningstar. "Do what you will. Assuming you are not overzealous, I can ensure their lives if it would please your patron, Staelish."
A grunt and half shrug is all you get from Cimri. "Razelgo never specified for the workers, so up to us. Though I still live here, for the time being, and I'd prefer not to kill my neighbors. If anyone else does it...no skin off my nose."
Eyeing the shadows still swirling around the fetchling, Rurisa ventures, "Can that trick block your scent too? It it's a dog or some such probably easier to just kill it."
Nodding to the two new arrivals, "Just a bit longer, let them get inside."
To Rurisa's question, Kayal looks down to his hands, half-bathed in shade, and simply shakes his head. "Sadly not. But I question if it would have much means, given the surrounding stench. Slaying it would be a wise course of action. Mongrels make such needless noise."
Vokrin was quiet, but he speaks up at this point. "Should we not stop them before they arrive, or are we waiting for them to depart again? I would sooner not have them here while we transact business, it could complicate things." Seeing near perfectly toward the oncoming group, he ponders the best way, but wants to see what his companions believe.
Never taking her eyes off the approaching pair, Rurisa offers a small shrug. "Letting them complete their delivery and depart seems simplest. Fewer witnesses, fewer loose ends, less risk. My concern was them coming upon us in the middle of our shakedown."
"Let them finish and leave. Killing them in unnecessary, and it is not their sins that must be punished. The dog, on the other hand, will need to be put down, regardless of how...noisy we decide to be in the end."
Azrael remains impassive as he speaks, almost sounding bored.
"Still, I will advocate for swift, decisive action. If we move swiftly enough, we can be in and out long before the sheriff arrives, regardless of how unsubtle we are."
"Suit yourselves." Cimri takes some time to attach her grappling hook to the silk rope she has brought along and hides away from the main gate and the road.
The Umbres arrive and yell for someone to let them in, they've got a delivery. Soon the gates are being opened up from the inside. The old farmers walk their cart into the compound and the gates close once more. Another slow hour passes by before they come out carrying their now empty cart along behind them. They shout their goodbyes and head back down the road.
Waiting a few moments for the Umbres to round out of sight, Rurisa strides from her hiding places, hands already looping coils of rope has she readies her grappling hook. With a glance at the nearest building, she moves around the corner to obscure herself as much as possible and gives the grapple a toss.
After firm tug to ensure the hook is secure, the mercenary gives her erstwhile companions a nod and begins to climb. The moment she is over the wall she drops down, unlimbering her lucerne hammer--easier to scare a man with twelve pounds of steel in hand, after all.
Azrael moves in unison with Rurisa, walking at her shoulder and keeping watch around them. He gives her a nod as she begins to climb, and watches in case she falls.
As soon as Rurisa is over the wall, Azrael follows, climbing up and over right behind.
Even as he drops to the ground, his sword's vicious edge breaks free of its sheath. He lands aside his fellow mercenary and glances around the area to clear it before the squishier members of their group join them.
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[/ooc]
The worst of his shadows gone with the Umbre's presence, and his mundane goods collected, Kayal wordlessly throws himself up above the barricade and takes a moment at the crux of the palisade to leer over the Tannery proper.
Unlike the more armoured members of their retinue, the Fetchling still makes a point to maintain his silence throughout, the better to muddle their numbers. The Tannery's inhabitance might yet be just one man, and perhaps his mutt, but as might be apparent: being forthright has never exactly been Kayal's style.
Vokrin follows his fellows over the wall, , and follows quietly though he's nowhere near as sneaky as the others. He grows concerned about his lack of sneakiness, and whispers "Stay close to me, I will keep us more hidden from the eyes of men." And he draws the darkness of his soul into a coin, which he holds in an outstretched hand.
Cimri puts away her own grapple and rope considering Rurisa got hers up and attached first. She nimbly follows everyone up the rope and drops to the other side light as a feather.
"I don't like the sound of that..."
[/spoiler]
Everyone makes it over the wall rather easily, however one occupant notices your arrival and begins snarling her way toward you. She snarls and moves to charge you!
The dog immediately starts barking and charges Kayal, the nearest opponent she can see.
She grabs Kayal's ankle and furiously throws her head back and forth as if she were breaking the neck of a small animal. Kayal loses his balance and ends up on the ground before her.
Cimri takes the opportunity to roll around the dog and slice at it with her kukri.
The dog snaps at her for moving away from her spot, and only catches air.
Her dagger rips a large tear in the dog's flank. A few inches further in and the curved blade would have disemboweled it.
Even as the dog races forward, Azrael grinds his teeth. Sighing as it takes down Fayal, the dark knight steps up and bring his blade down on the mutt.
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Azrael puts down the dog without mercy. It is soon afterward that the door to the office bursts open and another, smaller, dog comes running out at you. Behind it is a man wielding a heavy crossbow. Instead of firing it he throws something that was concealed underneath the crossbow at the group surrounding his dog!
He lands the stone right next to his dog and it goes off with a deafening !
Cimri yells to be heard over the perceived noise,
Meanwhile the dog rushes Cimri in an effort to take her down as well.
Despite being unable to hear Cimri is still able to stay away from the snapping jaws of the dog.
Rather than accept Azrael's brief assistance, Kayal at first seems only interested in the great ache in his leg as a mass of shadow gathers at the source, the animated shades daring to knit together the wounded surface and the torn muscles beneath.
Alas the deafening boom of Louslik's thunderstone interrupts any proper attempt to mend the flesh, and instead the Fetchling lurches back to his full height, seemingly unaffected by the pain.
Lord, do not make this quick.
Vokrin pockets the coin of darkness, walks across the wooden platform (careful to avoid the doggy), then raises his hands in arcane gesture. "Cold of winter, freeze my enemies." A ray of icy blue goes forth from his hands, flying towards Louslik.
Snarling, "So much for keeping this stealthy, it looks like we were expected."
Abandoning any attempt at stealth, the mercenary moves around to get a bead on the second dog, bringing her long-handled hammer down with all her strength. As she feels the shiver of impact and hears bones break, she gives a small grunt of satisfaction at a blow well-struck, though the foe was undeserving.
Vokrin's ray is on target and freezes part of Jabral's arm. After Rurisa dispatches the dog Jabral's entire face drops in a look of shock. "Archie...Abbie...You bandits will get it now!"
He takes careful aim with his crossbow at Rurisa.
While the aim is good the bolt only barely punches through Rurisa's armor, leaving a puncture wound well away from her vitals. With his hit Jabral steps back into the building and shuts the door behind him.
Vokrin is confident that Jabral is as good as dead already, but he'll add another frosty blast to the fray. "Freeze!" This time the frost blasts into Jabral's chest and freezes his very heart so much that it skips a beat, though the warmth of the man's body soon sets it aright, though not without some damage. "Drop the weapon and you may yet live."
Vokrin comes to the window, looks through it and breaks the window with his clawed hand. "You can make this easy or you can make this hard. I don't mind burning this place to the ground with you in it."
"You can do whatever you like! I'll defend this tannery to the death!"
Cimri looks at everyone around her, "So do you think he keeps all the taxes and money in his office? Yeah? Thought so." She specifically looks at Rurisa and Azrael, "Which of you strong types wants to kick down the door? Alternatively I can try to pick the lock with some tools here."
"We don't have time, and that thunderstone has already given up an alarm. We do this quickly or not at all." With an impatient grunt, Rurisa quickly strides across the compound yard, keeping a wary eye on the windows in case the old man makes another try with that crossbow. Hefting her lucerne hammer, she gives it her best swing.
Cimri looks at Rurisa's mouth moving. "What?" When she smashes the door with a single hammer blow Cimri understands completely, "Oh."
Rurisa's single blow smashes through the door and rips it off its hinges. Jabral Louslik is standing on the other side with a sneer on his face, "Come and get me then!"
Azrael follows right behind Rurisa, sword hefted. As she annihilates the door, he rushes through it to engage Louslik.
Azrael's blade sweeps in and easily pierces the light leather apron Jabral is wearing. Bleeding and swearing Louslik measures up Azrael and prepares for the deadliest fight of his life.
Azrael glares through the dim light at the man, almost pitiable in his last moments. Azrael has no desire to kill this man, but no reservations about it, either. His blade has already tasted blood, after all.
"Stand down, or be ended."
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"Better yet," Kayal mutters, voice and hand reverberating magic as he wanders forwards on the slightest of limps. "Give him to me."
Marching through the door Rurisa moves to outflank the tanner, keeping him within reach of her hammer but without the sword-wielding merc in her way.
"I'm not going to kill you, fool, but I am curious: which leg is your favorite?"
The shadows around Kayal burst into motion rushing Jabral in the torchlight. They latch onto his own shadow as he screams in fear. He is only barely able to wrestle himself away to flee into the corner of his office, covering himself with his crossbow and gibbering in terror.
Vokrin decides that enough is enough. "Your time has ended, submit to me in death, your soul shall be mine." He weaves his hands once more in arcane gesture, infusing the power of his blood and will to destroy the poor man... with missiles comprised of pure magic! It wouldn't do to have someone else crush this poor man. Then his magic falls rather flat, which is disappointing, but the force of two missiles is sure to impress someone. Only powerful wizards can cast TWO missiles.