Marauders Footsteps

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

Newborn Night
Last Cycle of
The Month of Cryxatum
The Season of Summer
Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XI Post Fractum
Age of the Darkening
Paradigm: Schism in the Church of the Faith!

Ethereal spectres of brutal battle had wallowed in the mind of vysstichi prince all day in anticipation of the tournament which would soon be graced by his presence. However the days until the tournament had turned bland, melding into the distasteful bustle of the lightskins and Jha'rach was only to relieved to escape into the night for a draught of much needed cool air. It had been eons since he'd had anything interesting step into his life it seemed, and his languid nature spoke loudly of his boredom.

He moved through he streets of Riparia, always clinging to wall, breaking into the light provided by the lanterns on the streets before dissipating once again into the requiem of darkness. He missed the darkness of vortex. It had been for a century his portal to the upper plane of Telath and his comfort of the upper plane had grown slowly but surely. Nonetheless, he still mourned for the darkness of the earth he'd always been just a few precious minutes away at any given moment.

He loved the culture of vortex too, all the vysstichi in the lower levels took advantage of the lightskins in every way imaginable, not that was particularly out of the ordinary, but rarely could you find a vysstichi selling a cracked chamber pot to a highly adorned lightskin nobel as an antique and have them pay fifty times its worth without them being able to do anything. He also found pleasure in the hordes of sunken knuckled fools whom wandered the streets at night in search of easy prey. He enjoyed splaying them open infrequently and displaying their innards to their companions. It was a realm of chaos he'd emerged from. Somehow he doubted he would get away with something like that without raising an eyebrow here. Then again... He didn't really care. They would have to catch him first.

His silent prowl extended beyond his vision; keen senses telling him of all the happenings which were taking place around him at any given time. Every piece of his body had been honed into the silent, cold, muscled, weapon wrack he had become. Rarely had he needed to display that fact, though he certainly did have a taste for using his skills liberally.

Tonight, he was just out for a stroll... But he would have welcomed pretty much any interesting event.

OOC: Hope you can work with this .

[BlueberryKitty]

The vysstichi was lost in memory; a trait that belied a weakness in his soul. Especially if he had fond memories of Vortex and the warrens of Har'oloth that dwelled below. The vysstichi culture despised males, using them only for their stronger muscles to do slave labour, and those that were fortunate enough to draw the attention of their mistresses through other skills lived a life of only considerable more ease.

Slaves at Haya's temple didn't seem to live very long. Those good at their tasks invariably died quickly of exhaustion or burst hearts; those that were poor found knives flaying the skin from their bodies by displeased worshippers. Ah, but Vortex did carry an excellent range of goods, sold most often by the light born races snivelling to their scowling masters from below. Never did one find a Vysstichi, even a slave, bow to one of the lesser races born under the sun. A cloak gave the slightest flicker behind him. Vortex knew who her mistress was; even their toy Thane remained in his mansion and did nothing.

The exposed land above only fell into beauty when blessed darkness fell across it. Then, and only then, did it feel welcoming. Having no shielding ceiling of stone overhead was more obvious at darkening, when all the tiny little pinpricks of light shone overhead. The feeling of space that they gave to one standing below was awesome. A tiny shadow flickered across the wall, just out of direct eyesight.

Slowly Jha'rach became aware that he was being followed, and had been for some time. For him to have not noticed this meant the stalker was exceptionally skilled. Perhaps it was another Vysstichi? Perhaps not. One of the kin would have approached him by now, unless the elf wanted to kill him. Maybe this was a simply lightborn cutpurse interested in a not so easy mark? Jha'rach would have to decide.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

His memory was that of a lost life, a lineage of blades; tossed into the wind. He could not deny who is he was. He was the gifted born of the matron of house Raeh'li'venorsh. His upbringing had spawned him not a position of power, not of respect, but of cautious benevolence. His mother was a cruel sadistic bitch; whom, had he the skill or want, would have without thought, opened one of her priestesses and made her choke on their hot viscera.

The Matriarchal system of the drow would fall. He had no doubt of that. The lust of power the matrons constantly clawed for, had left seeds in his gender, they were ignorant fools who knew not of the freedom away from those shackles. But once a fire was lit among them... The fall of the matrons was inevitable.

He had freed himself of those shackles and was thought too useless to be thought other than dead; he had no doubt, that had the matron wanted, he found have been found and dragged back to Hon'elgg. But he had grown into something far worse than his mother could ever be. Her seed had grown blacker than the blackest pit in Hon'elgg, she would delight in that knowledge. But her first encounter with him again, would be her last.

These thoughts echoed spitefully in his mind as he continued his silent tread along the streets of Riparia. His mind cleared and he again focused on that which he loved so dearly, the freedom of himself, stripped bare, only his senses and body. In this thoughtless requiem he suddenly realised his shadow. He was being followed. The drow was slightly surprised at first, surprised that indeed, someone had been able to follow him and even more surprised that he hadn't perceptively noted their existence before hand. However, the drow's initial surprise soon turned into the delight of a prince who dearly enjoyed playing this game at the end of blades.

He knew almost immediately how to contend with this opponent. His easy stroll suddenly turned into the vicious hunt of the vysstichi. His silent trod turned into the lithe step of hunter's grace. Quickly he scanned his surroundings. Blending directly into the shadows, his body became intangible to eyes of a lightskin. He wore his environment with ease, having taken long measures of understanding of the dark and it's traits.

If the being was a vysstichi, his presence would be difficult to observe, but nonetheless, the possibility remained. He looked for the small inclines in the road buffeted by perhaps a niche in a wall, or an overhanging branch, these would provide the distraction and focal point of his ambush. How dearly he loved to play.

[BlueberryKitty]

Play. That was exactly what the unknown presence in the darkness had in mind. A chase through the city of Riparia; a game of cat and mouse. The problem here was that both parties wanted to be the cat and only one of them was in a position to do so. When Jha'rach changed his pace and began moving with stealth, that's when his hunter realised she'd given herself away.

Still, the hunter had the advantage. She knew the city and her environment far better than this elf from the depths no matter how familiar he might have been with the dark. His hiding in shadows stood him no advantage at all. Others walked the streets at night that could see into the penetrating depths with just as much ease. Every time the egotistical vyssi slipped into an alcove or shadow to try to hide, she simply waited for him to move on again.

Riparia might be a safe city to wander through during the brightening hours, but after the suns went down there was so much the Riparian Guard didn't seem to know about. The underworld of the city knew better than to grow large- growing large and fat would give a big target for the Guard to find and take down. But a few here, a few there; hidden to the eyes of the law flourished so long as they took care. It was one of these that had picked up the trail of the confident vysstichi prince, and was having a fairly good time tracking an accomplished prey.

At last the stalked came to rest in a place ripe for ambush. If this hadn't been a game, the vyssi's pouch and valuables would have disappeared without hardly a touch. But as it were, the stalker had something much more fun in mind. The only warning Jha'rach had was a single drop of water brushing the side of his face. A split-second later, the full bucket landed atop of his head, drenching the elf from head to toe.

Then, he had the only full glance of his tormentor of the night; an upside down head, with long stringy hair hanging down from the back of her head, and bright golden eyes staring at him. Then the profile disappeared.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

OOC: *Smiles*

IC:

Arrogance, a trait which proved to have flourished in the depths of Telath. The vysstichi were a proud race; perhaps too much so. Hon'elgg was, and the prince supposed, with much bitterness, would always be his home. He had rejected that life long ago, fled from it, cast it into his past. Yet it had been drawn into his veins as if he had embraced his kin, his greatest source of angst, that his life had been pre-ordained; that he had been born to fufill a purpose. Even now.. It was so.

It was what made him believe that none walked the streets of Riparia that he could not kill, dissuade from their ideas of theft, murder or simply beat into submission. It was a source of strength and weakness, yet the vysstichi had drawn from that pride, that strength of self and courage so many times. Bereft of everything except those strengths made him who he was, allowed him to still draw breath into his lungs; it had saved him many times. His arrogance was indeed a weakness at times, though very infrequently did he underestimate an opponent. His arrogance was what made him push forward and not fall into the abyss of hopelessness.

However, it often left him open for an occasional blow to his pride, a lesson in submission.

Crouched on a branch, the vysstichi prince waited for his shadow, dagger drawn. His unobtrusive figure had blended into the surrounding foliage quite well. He was confident his shadow would fall into his trap.

When the drop of water dropped against his cheek, the vysstichi did not move, in fact, he completely disregarded it. Swift movements often revealed position better than bright colors. His training made him disregard it, and so when the bucket of water landed on his head, the vysstichi was taken completely unaware and fell from his branch, two full meters to the ground. Landing squarely on his back, the air leaving his lungs with a thud.

The two metre fall likely had not injured the vysstichi, his armor taking the brunt of the fall, however, it had surely disabled him as if the elf had jammed a blade in his neck. His last view before falling had been the cherub face of a light elf, long strings of hair flying lazily in the air. She was talented.

However this was the last thing on Jha'rach's mind, as he gasped to draw breath, muffled curses left his lips.

The vysstichi looked up into the tree, searching the lightskin out while trying to fill his lungs and shake off the cold water and shock of the fall. His dagger had landed only a short foot away from his hand, yet there he lay, his back on the ground, completely incapacitated, only his mind, lungs and eyes working furiously.

[BlueberryKitty]

Necessity was the mother of invention, and when it was the only mother a child knew it created exquisite skills of all kinds in children of the street. The prank was mostly harmless, meant to be amusing to take down the imperious Vysstichi. The result was even more amusing than the urchin could have hoped. The small body remained perched where she was, the darkness of her cloak held tightly around her slender body. Any motion of the fabric might be taken as leaves blowing in the slight darkening wind; other than that the figure remained perfectly still in her retreat.

Truth be told, there wasn't that much of a difference between them. Both born into a world where there was no one for them to depend on, and only themselves to care. One from the catacombs of a harsh city beneath the ground, the other in the streets of a city who looked no more fondly on a street urchin and thief. At least the Vysstichi knew who his mother was- and she was still alive.

The dagger that landed slightly away from the target's hand glinted slightly in the moonlight. It was a tempting piece, but the risk of taking it was too high. These dark skinned elves weren't unknown in the streets of Riparia at all and she knew that she was playing a dangerous game with him. That was what made it so fun. A challenge, more so than the slow and cumbersome guards of the city. That he was lying on the ground stunned was a triumph in and of itself, but she wasn't about to go down there and tempt fate by putting herself in a situation to get caught.

Now it was time to see how long it took the elf to collect himself, and what he would do next.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

The vysstichi prince smiled to himself after collecting his breath; continuing to search the foliage of the tree with his keen vision. Manipulation was another trait the prince had honed; show the enemy what they want to see and they will believe it. His long string of curses through muffled breaths had gone on far longer than what was necessary. In truth, the vysstichi had been far from completely vulnerable in his incapacitated state; yes, he had been knocked off a branch, been thrown to the ground and soaked to the bone... Coincidentally, it had not been the first time something like this had happened to him.

His vulnerable state had been greatly exaggerated and yet his opponent had not taken advantage of the situation.... "Caution." He noted, his smile remaining casually on his face as he slipped the four inch dagger which had been weaved into the seam of his cloak back into it's rightful place. Talent and caution. Two traits which he also possessed.

He continued to scan the foliage of the tree while methodically, sitting up, replacing the dagger in it's sheath and brushing himself off. No anger, no frustration, in truth... Admiration rolled through his mind. His beautiful ebony face held no sign of his thoughts. There he stood, motionless, his raptor gaze scanning the tree, alone with only the uncanny silence which followed, cutting into the night with reproachful awkwardness.

He was quite mad at times. But this was not a show of insanity. This was a challenge, a game, just another game. The being had earned his admiration; yes. Their safety; no.

[BlueberryKitty]

Well, the good news was, the Vysstichi likely wouldn't find her til she moved. However the bad news was that ... she couldn't move til he left, or was distracted one. Which probably meant she was in for a nice long darkening of sitting in this tree, til the sun rose again. That, from what she could tell, was likely several candlemarks away still. Feth.

What she needed was a distraction. In a little bit, the Riparian Guard would likely pass this street by, and be curious why a lone vysstichi was out gazing up at the trees. If only she knew what time it was right now, she'd know how long it was she had to wait.

Slowly the clouds moved across the moonlit sky, the wind rustled in the trees, and nothing much else stirred. Certainly there were few people out or about, though once there was a catlike shadow that flickered down the street; probably on a late darkening raid looking for a mouse dinner. Blue observed all of this from her perch, still remaining absolutely motionless. It was something she was unfortunately very practised at- hiding out from those that often attempted to chase her. That she was still free and on the streets of Riparia spoke well of her ability to hide, track, and be aware of her surroundings.

As predicted, a detachment of two Riparian Guard turned down this street, and began walking the path they took every darkening. Of course, the dark elf standing in the street caught their attention, they approached him with a casual attitude. Well, as casual as guards could manage when they were on duty. Still, there was nothing threatening about them in the beginning. "Serale, citizen. Is something the matter?" One guard spoke, the pair of them continued on their way, pausing only a few feet away from the dark elf.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

Stolid as the bark the lightskin perched in, the vysstichi prince's face inexorably stood lifted to the windswept moonlit night. His dark features impulsively drawing the eye, attractive, muscular, and unbiddenly enigmatic. His locks of dauting ivory hair blew carelessly behind him and his cloak leapt about as if sentient. He was best described as a bodingly dark character; and when he was trying to be seen, his natural finesse and noble standing we're as vivid as his skin.

He knew his opponent stood perched in that tree waiting for a chance to... Escape? He assumed, for they had not prostrated themselves before him as of yet; and he'd given them plenty of time to reflect on routes of escape, the risk of approaching him, and whether or not he was worth fighting. In any case, he assumed that this one's caution far outweighed the want of an interesting night. He hardly thought dumping a bucket of water on an unsuspecting vysstichi would have satiated that craving. Unless of course... It was a child. A very talented child.

Jha'rach reflected on that possibility, he had no want to steal the life of a child, he had Zula back in vortex to think of; her lineage had not been reason enough for him to kill her. She had helped him escape the clutches of her mad father. Though he doubted he would have needed her help, but it was much appreciated nonetheless, and he had placed her with a man who would take very good care of her.

The internal dialogue had not taken away from his apparent vigilance and studious gaze of the tree. It had also not taken away from his keen senses and he knew well before the guard had arrived that they were coming. A smirk decorated his face as they finally reached him, a devious idea surfacing from the bowels of his mind. He had given his opponent more than enough time to face him on equal ground after all...

The two guards footfalls spoke loudly of their set, the equipment they wore and the skill they had in footplay... An essential part a warrior's success in battle. Jha'rach had no need to look at them yet; they weren't afterall... Vortexian guards, and less likely to rob you. He mentally recorded what he could of them without removing his gaze from the tree.

He spoke fluent and flawless imperial and used the set of his body to press the attention of the guards, "Finally... Thank you for coming! I followed a thief that broke into my house on the southern end of town, and I think they are sitting in that tree! I'm afraid to go too close though because I think they may jump on me!" His dark raspy voice spoke volumes of need and anger towards the tree.

The trap was sprung and he'd suddenly turned the situation around. His gaze never looking away from the tree, he waited for the being to be smoked out. The guard would see him as only a citizen-in-need, and would prove very useful if his plan worked... And if it didn't, well... He would deal with that when it came. For the moment he calculated where the being would escape to and waited... Waited for them to try.

[BlueberryKitty]

Jha'rach's eyes never once left the branches of the tree where his quarry was perched. They caught the slight flicker of a cloak in the wind, and then there was nothing. The two guards looked at him as if he were crazed, but they were obligated to check out his claims anyway.

"Alright Sir, step back and we'll investigate the matter." A brief, hushed argument ensued as the pair argued momentarily who would be the one to go up. Most likely the crazy vyssi was staring at nothing more than a stray cat. After a moment, the taller and skinnier of the pair shed his helm and set his foot against the bark of the tree. It was an easy climb, the branches sturdy and well spaced. The guard was quite visible as he made his way up to the topmost branches of the tree, swaying slightly as his weight began to bend the more supple, thinner branches.

"There's naught up here Sir, naught at all." His confused face peered down at his companion and Jha'rach. Obviously the darkelf was imagining things. The thicker companion of the guard turned to face the vyssi with a polite expression. "Well Sir, if you'd care to file a formal report about the break-in to your home we'd be more than happy to investigate for you. Riparia's a quiet city these brightenings, and it's going to stay that way. We don't hold with letting people go breaking in and stealing from their neighbors." He waited patiently for the dark elf to reply.

Meanwhile, in the darkened distance, the Mistress of Stealth laughed quietly to herself. She watched the Vyssi Prince she was stalking caught by the guards in his own lie. Not that she could hear anything out of them at all, but she recognised the look on old Seamus' face at any rate. If the elf couldn't present any evidence they'd warn him about playing games with crying wolf, and then the game would be on once more. This elf was such fun, she wasn't about to let the game end this way just yet. Perhaps at the end, she'd actually talk to the creature. If she could do so without being certain of finding a blade stuck in her body.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

Jha'rach's eyebrow raised briefly as he saw the cloak flash in and out of view; he knew then, that his plan had failed and that whomever had been in that tree was down and gone; likely having crawled down the rear side of tree, blocking his vision from their escape. His eyebrow shifted back down and he fingered the four inch dagger hidden in his palm.. How very interesting this being seemed to be; they had evaded his wit twice now; using their obvious skill to slip past his web.

Now he had a whole new problem to deal with. Now he had no use for the guards. Now he had trouble. Delightful trouble. He smiled for the first time this night, keeping his gaze locked on a portion of the tree; keeping his ruse convincing.

The next Riparian Guard would take much time in making the rounds and few would notice these two missing for a while yet. There we're simply too many patrols in this city. They would not noticed until they we're reported missing. Or found where they were. How he hated guards. And worse; his craving had awoken.

The vysstichi pleasantly moved beside the guard and said to his companion up in the tree, "I suppose I must have just been seeing things; I'd be more than happy to fill in a report for you.." He concluded with as winning a smile as he could without showing his apparent disgust of the surface race; directing the attention of the guard on the ground away from his slow approach and up into the tree. The area around the tree was well shaded and the streets around him we're as deserted as they were prior to the arrival of the guard. Perhaps his attacker was still watching. How interesting...

He waited for the husky guard beside him to voice his opinion before he nodded and called up to the other guard in a friendly matter as, indubitably he would be backing down the tree, his attention focused on the climb downwards. His hands on his hips, the vysstichi was a prime image of an apparently disarming dark elf, friendly, however ridiculous his claim may have been of a thief in the tree. No cause for concern. How good he was at manipulating people with his body language. He had agreed to fill out a formal report. No cause for concern.

But the vysstichi was a cause for concern, and as both the guards attention were focused on the guard descending from the tree. The vysstichi silently jammed the four inch dagger hidden in his palm deeply up and beneath the guards helm; deeply into the base of the guards skull, while simultaneously muffling any escape of breath from his mouth with his other hand. He'd seen this maneuver before and knew it to be an instantly quiet killer.

His grip on the man's mouth and neck, coupled with his strength and in depth understanding of the art of stealth would hopefully help in easing the dead man to the ground. There, he lay as his companion continued down the tree; hopefully, blissfully unaware of what had just happened behind him. A quick approach to the tree would similarly prove to silence the descending guard in the same way, having removed his helm, making the feat all the more easy to accomplish.

If anything went wrong, of course; the vysstichi had more than ample experience with the blade draped over his back. Though; the act undoubtably would come as quite a shock, who after all, under Telath's suns would commit such a brutal, pointless act of murder? The vysstichi had his reasons. He always had his reasons.

[BlueberryKitty]

Jha'rach had miscalculated badly. The guard who's skull he tried to sink his dagger into was not watching his companion descend the tree, he was looking directly at the vysstichi as they conversed. No threat came to him at all from the other guard, there was no reason to watch him climb down at all. As the vysstichi moved to strike at him with the blade, he moved to counter the attack. Nor did the other guard climb down as carefully as a child, he made it about half-way down and then dropped the rest of the way. That second guard came up with his hand on the hilt of his drawn sword, rushing toward the attempted murderer.

Jha'rach found his arm grasped by the first guardsman, the tip of his dagger deflected from its killing blow. He was now at a disadvantage, with that same guard trying hard to twist his dagger hand up and behind his back. There was always cause for concern when dealing with Vysstichi- everyone knew that. Though the bastards were allowed into the city same as any other race, and the guards couldn't harrass them, they were still dirty snakes just waiting to spill someone's blood.

This one had a fight on his hands.

[Jha'rach D'Rinishad]

The vysstichi did not slow in his attack; even with having been put instantly at a disadvantage by having badly planned out his initial assault. Now he was in an entirely different situation and the guards knew what he was about. Fortunately for the vysstichi, it was pitch outside and no one was around except himself, the guards and perhaps the initial offender whom had buffeted him with a bucket of water. In his darkvision alone lay his advantage; that and of course... That he was very, very wet.

Realising instantly that if the other guard joined in the fray before the guard which had him by the arm was subdued or at least thrown off of him, he would have little chance of putting up a decent fight. Jha'rach wasted no time in pushing back towards the guard with all of his strength, endeavoring to keep his arm from being twisted behind his back; which indubitably would incapacitate him beyond defense. Simultaneously the prince snapped his shoulder and torso forward, pushing with his legs, attempting to unbalance the guard, or at least use him as a barricade between himself and the second guard.

His free hand flipped to his side, drawing a foot of curved elven steel, one of two which constantly hung at each side of his waist. The vysstichi slammed the dagger forth, aiming to penetrate the blade under the guards torso armor, just below and above the waist. This would provide the least amount of opportunity for the guard to counter or block the attack, it also meant the blade had a very short distance to travel and had a lot of force applied to it as the prince pushed the guard backwards.

The vysstichi, indifferent to the success of his attack, would hopefully have sufficiently unbalanced his opponent, left him with a dreadful wound or simply unhinged his concentration. Jha'rach would then twist his wrist so that the focal point of the retraction of his arm would be focused on the weakest part of the mans hand. Perhaps with his continued assault, the man would give up his grasp, if not... Well the vysstichi still had a body sleek with the wet burden given to him by his initial attacker this night.. Undoubtably something very difficult to hold onto...

OOC: I'm not entirely sure how you want this to work? , I know PvP combat is one attack and one counterattack, but PvNPC could be different? Just tell me if I step out of line or can write more.