Anima di Nerezza Chapter 3, "The First Target" Options

[Sirin]

Anima di Nerezza

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3


The moon was high in the night sky, to be sure, but I could not identify my opponent. All I knew is that he was drenched in blood, and the guards had blood smeared all across their bodies. Two and two equals killer. I had my dagger at the ready, but he stood there carelessly, allowing me time to consider the situation.

My opponent was unarmed, which left me bewildered. How he could slaughter these men in such a fashion and remain unharmed himself was beyond me. As I mentioned, I could make out his form, but nothing of his features. I could describe his attitude though: bold. Foolish, at best. He still waited before me, awaiting my first attack. Judging by the massacred guards, my first move would have to be my last, for I didn’t wish to entertain this killer with a long fight. I had no doubt that, if given the time, things would go in his favor.

Numbly, I lunged at him. This was an odd feeling, for it seemed to not be my own. It was almost dreamlike. The bold man stood still, as if he accepted his fate and would have it no other way. My blade danced closer and closer to my foe, but time slowed, or so it seemed. I could perceive every individual drop of rain tumbling from the darkened sky. Closer I came to running the man through. Abruptly, he leaped at me to connect in a daring clash of steel and flesh.

The sound was peculiar, to say little. There was not the usual metallic noise as the blade slid into the body. Nor was there the barely audible clanking of steel on bone. In fact, the sight was unbelievable as well. The killer was gone. I landed from my lunge and stood alone in the cold rain. I saw no body, other than those previously there. But suddenly, a hard fist connected with my back, sending me flailing onto the soggy ground.

Rising again, I turned around to face my foe again. He stood in the same over-confident fashion as before, but this time he was crouched and held his hand out, clenched. As if he’d just punched someone. Well, at least I know it was him, and I didn’t just get dumped by some giant raindrop, I thought sarcastically.

“Now, how did you get back there?” I asked, not quite expecting an answer. I didn’t get one, either, but I could have sworn that the maniac smiled at me. He leapt at me this time, apparently impatient for his next kill. He wouldn’t get one, though. Just had to time my next stunt perfectly…

This post has been edited by Sirin: Mar 2 2006, 02:02 AM

[Sirin]

Part 5- Hints of a Conspiracy

I woke up after a deep, pain-induced sleep back in the inn where my equipment was stored. I was dressed in fine bed clothes, I noticed. My assassin’s outfit was folded neatly on my dresser. I felt incredible, better than I had ever been before, in fact. Vercindelle was seated on the other side of my room in a creaky, old chair. He seemed to be bursting with impatience, for he continued to rock back and forth.

“My, my, Vercindelle. All that rocking is going to drive me crazy!” I spoke with mock concern for my sanity. He instantly stood, starting forward, but stopping suddenly.

“No need to worry,” said I, “I won’t die if you come closer. I might feel a little sorer, though…” After I made this sarcastic remark, he ran over to my bedside and exploded with questions.

“What happened? Is everything alright? What took so long?” The Altmer seemed incapable of speaking slowly, calmly, but I tried to answer his questions while retaining my patience.

“Slow down, man. It’s all okay for now,” I said, which almost immediately soothed his fears. I proceeded to tell him what happened, all the while searching his features for the slightest sign of treachery. There were none, of course, and I almost felt a pang of guilt for having suspected my old friend. Still, in my line of work, one can never take chances.

“Who was this… Stranger?” he asked.

“I believe I already mentioned that I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Well, can you describe him?”

I’ll do my best,” I replied, trying to bring back the memory. “He had darker skin, so he must have been a Redguard. The strength and power he wielded also signaled his race. Brown hair… he had brown hair, quite long. I couldn’t see his eyes, though I could make out quite the scar across one of them. He was hooded, as well, so most of his face was darkened,” I said.

“That’s all? You were waylaid by one alone?” he asked, expressing disbelief.

“There was another that I met in combat before I entered the house, but she is dead now.”

“Is she? You’re positive?” When Vercindelle mentioned this, I realized that I hadn’t seen the Thing when I had left Gallias’ home. That didn’t mean she was still alive, of course. It must have been a fact I merely overlooked.

“Yes… I’m sure. But regardless of the two…”

“No, Mabriel,” he interrupted, “this is no time to change the subject! Someone is onto us. I made sure that the only people who knew of this mission were the two of us and Geryss.” Thankfully the Breton was not in the room with us.

“Are you suggesting that Geryss did this? That maybe he set this up some how?” I asked, feeling bitter that my mental adversary would resort to such low tactics.

“I don’t know, Mabriel. All I know is that this is not going right.”

“You said yourself that there would be risks, Vercindelle.”

“I know, but suddenly, this is so much more dangerous than before,” he said, and walked out of my room in his own cryptic, but typical fashion.

Once the door scraped shut, I took the silent moments to reflect on my present situation. I had my doubts that Geryss would sell the Dark Brotherhood out. Perhaps we were unspoken foes, but I find that adversity is little cause for such rash measures. Still, the thought stayed fresh in my mind. The Breton assassin could have easily sent that Thing after me. Why he would, I know not, even to this day. The Stranger, on the other hand, was a different story.

He seemed to wish to prevent the killing, but, when faced with his failure, left me to die. Surely, if the Breton had also sent the Stranger to get in my way, I would have been dead. It made no sense for Geryss to send the Redguard after me, only to let me live. However, nothing at the moment made sense. The great expanse of possibilities made my head swim. I decided to sleep it off.

I awoke alone. No Vercindelle waiting for my safe return to consciousness. No Geryss with a blade to my throat. The Stranger wasn’t even there, waiting to interrogate me again. I slid my feet to the cold, rough floor and made my way to the closet. Thankfully, I was given street clothes. I had no intention of murdering anyone tonight, for I knew from experience that I required rest and relaxation. A day at the pub would do.