Cleaning up the Vermin

[Haldir]

☠ 60th of Ash, Year 120 ☠
Company: Sick Patients | Thoughts: Let the Experiment Begin| Mood: Intrigued

---

☠ The night was alight by the moon as I stood on the rooftops,

my discerning gaze bearing down on the patrols below. It seemed that this patient had stepped up his security since my last visit, though he did seem on edge when I came to visit him for a routine check-up. This time however I was here for a different kind of consultation. Dressed in my scrubs, I patiently awaited my chance to begin.

Leaning over the ledge of the roof I watched as the patrolman scurried about making their rounds. Taking a sip of the crisp night air, I watched as they came and gone, changed shifts, and went about their business. it was a mundane task, but it was all apart of the process. My main concern was the hounds that accompanied these patrols, I noticed that upon my initial visit to this particularly infected patient.

The good thing was that I brought along some reassurance. I was high up enough to where the hounds couldnt smell my little surprise, the meat I had brought with me. It was soaking in a bucket of nectar from a particular flower I found a shop in the city. "This flower is both beautiful & deadly in misuse. This is the Black Moon Lily, a rare flower that only blooms within the light of the full moon. It is said to be blessed and symbolizes change, renewal, and mercy.

The words of the shop owner echoed in my ear as I watched intently, observing their numbers and routine. After some time, I decided to see how this experiment would go. A controlled experiment, of course, as I live for nothing more than a controlled experiment. With a toss I let a piece of the soaked meat flop to the cobblestone below, waiting to see how long it would take for a hound to pick it up.

With no time at all a hound patrol was pulled to it, the handler cursing the dog for following their basic instincts. Looking through the visor of my mask, I watched to see if there were any changes in the hound, checking to see what adverse effect the nectar had on it. Within moments the dog began to react violently, yelping and hollering until it collapsed on the ground, foaming at the mouth and seizing up.

"It would appear ingestion of the flower's nectar causes the body to convulse and go into shock, body spasm, and seizures." I pondered, making mental notes as I watched as the hound fought for its life, but to no avail, the poor mutt ceasing any movement. The handler simply cursed then spat at the corpse, only to kick it before walking away.

Now it was time to go into phase two of the experiment and see how humans react to it. The goal now was to get close enough to administer it, but that was actually going to easy. As I made my way out of the building I laced Nevermore with the toxic liquid and once I got to the door I waited, waited for that dog handler to come by. A few minutes later I could hear his voice, mumbling to himself about the dog, thinking the hound ate some rancid meat.

The moment he walked past the front door, I grabbed him, and in a spinning turn, pinned him to the wall with Malphas. I covered his mouth in order to stifle his screams and yelling, though I stared intently to see how long before the effects set in. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Arkash]

Through the dimly-lit, damp darkness, Arkash wandered with Asmodei in tow. The avialae aided the young Rathari in yet another one of his contracts. At first, he translated the offered note, then he lit the way in Arkash's journey through the sewers that passed under Lower Nivenhain.
The sewers had become something of a regular haunt for the rath, and despite the stink of mold, feces and piss, the ambient flow of the channel calmed him. It was the distant dripping of melted snow on hollow iron pipes, accompanied by the chorus of chitters and skitters of the sewer's dwellers that put him at ease, though one look at the avialae revealed that he didn't share the sentiment. Regardless of what Asmodei thought of the sewers, Arkash was at home there.
"Must we use these tunnels so often?" Begged the giant with a heavy nasal block in his voice. It was because he pinched his nose shut during their voyage through the darkness.
Arkash merely passed him a glance with his brow raised, then nodded as he returned to the adjustment straps of his prosthetic arm. "Yeah, it's the best way under the wall. Now, because of the security, it's the best route into charger turf," Arkash explained with a level head and tightened the support strap that held his left arm at a ninety-degree angle. "You know that, Az."
"Yes, well..." the giant paused, then sighed. The pair didn't have a choice outside of do-or-don't, and as much as Asmodei detested the sewers, he couldn't deny it was so. After a moment of silence, the pair unanimously moved on from the topic, but without a word about it. "How's the arm?" He motioned to the freshly-smithed prosthetic.
"Heavy..." Arkash returned in thought. "I've sorta neglected this arm, it didn't get any stronger after I started walking again," he spoke with something of a frown. Indeed, the muscles there had waned, and it made it difficult to even lift the steel shaft that made his false limb. Arkash examined the craftsmanship while they walked. It was created by Taun; the Sawtoothed's own smith; a jastai, like most of the gang. He'd been awfully keen to provide Arkash a new arm, and despite the weird circumstances, Arkash accepted the generous offer.
The cap of his arm extended to the length of his wrist on his real arm, and rounded off to form a sort of nub. At the tip was a screwed-on hook that acted as a sort of grasper; it allowed Arkash to handle certain things with greater ease. He had a few different modular heads for the prosthetic, but the hook was the most versatile, and it allowed him to climb the ladders in the sewers with far greater ease than he could without.
"You'll get stronger," Asmodei assured. Arkash knew his words to be true, so he bowed his head with a smile. As for the rest of his apparel? He wore fur-lined leathers over his heavily bandaged chest to insulate his body from the cold, and a shrouded, black cowl to hide his features and break up his shape. Along his waist was a leather belt complete with his serrated shortsword and a few different sheaths for the heads of his prosthetic arm. He was dressed for war, for that was where they traveled.
Arkash's unknown client had designated the leader of The Black Boar Chargers as his next target. The first was a farming family, the second was a bear, and the third was a powerful mobster. They were scaling in difficulty at an unprecedented rate, but the pay was good, so he kept going. On the contract's completion, he would earn an entire two thousand farthings; double his last pay. Needless to say, the rathari spent the coin in his head while they walked.
Before long, they arrived at the ladder that led them to the heart of the charger's territory. So, Asmodei oh-so-quietly lifted the manhole cover and allowed a wave of semi-fresh air into the dank tunnels. Once he'd pushed it aside and the low metal-stone grind ceased, Asmodei puffed, then looked to Arkash. "You sure you don't want any help?"
The rathari shook his head. "I'm good, Az. I won't be too long, okay?" He smiled beneath his cowl as he turned his gaze to the ladder, then took it with his one set of claws and his hook both. Again, he tested the strength of his support brace, then pulled his weight into it to take an independent step onto the ladder.
"Don't forget the insignia," warned the avialae, who returned to pinching his nose shut once the lizard had climbed half-way up the ladder.
Arkash hooked the iron frame, then pulled his head through onto the street, where he briefly scanned for any patrols. When he saw none, he pulled the rest of his form from the manhole, then looked about the moonlit streets with a flick of his tongue. They were certainly in charger territory, which Arkash surmised from the state of the buildings. They were in good repair toward the center of the territory, as that was where the gang resided. It was unlike anything else in Lower Nivenhain but paled in comparison to the Outer district.
When the manhole cover began to move to seal his exit, Arkash ran low and quiet to the nearest Alley. From the cover, he spied a patrol unit composed of a handler and a dog. The canine pulled hard on the leash and scrambled toward something on the street, and for a moment, Arkash thought it had smelled him. Was the sewer stink not enough to mask his scent? As it turned out, the dog hadn't smelled him. Arkash sighed softly through his nose, then shook his head as the canine snatched a piece of discarded meat from the floor, only to froth at the mouth and convulse.
Arkash furrowed his brow; he'd eaten plenty of bad meats, and the worst he got was a bad case of the runs, some nausea, and a stomach ache. Bad meat didn't have that effect. Nonetheless, the daft human believed it so and discarded his dog with a kick and a spit. Ark's heart sank at the scene; he could relate to the dog in some way; cast out and damned the moment he betrayed his master's will.
He didn't have time to contemplate the dog's death for long, as the handler was snatched shortly afterward. Arkash furrowed his brow, then began to unscrew his hook hand, and screwed in his angled knife before he removed the sheath, then darted across the street. Arkash moved silently, as though there was nothing there. There was no rustle to the fabric of his clothes, no jingle to his equipment, and no tap of his claws on the stone. It was like he didn't exist, except as a sight.
His eye trailed behind him as he approached the doorway, just to ensure he hadn't been seen, then, he leaned forward to peak with his right side at the scene, and saw some sort of birdman holding the handler to the wall. His eye widened. Was someone else attacking the chargers? Whoever they were, they were likely to interfere with his business. They had to go. Arkash had always adored that his job presented new and interesting challenges, and the situation before him just happened to be one of them. If he attacked the birdman, the handler would escape and call for help. Arkash exhaled through his nose, then lowered to his hand and crawled beneath the noses of the gathered humans without so much as a sound. As he rose to stand behind the birdman, Arkash caught a hint of something familiar in the air, then furrowed his brow as he sniffed. "Docta'?"

Image source.

[Haldir]

☠ 60th of Ash, Year 120 ☠
Company: Sick Patients | Thoughts: Let the Experiment Begin| Mood: Intrigued

---

☠ It was about time,

as the man began to react to the nectar coated on nevermore, seizing up. Though instead of foaming at the mouth, he was bleeding. He is hemorrhaging from his face, his eyes; ears; nose. it seems that this nectar when ingested, causes profuse hemorrhaging in the victim.

"How interesting." I pondered, though my own thoughts would have to wait as I was interrupted. I will know how he snuck up on me so easily but His tone, the accent, it was all recognizable. It was Arkash, which shocked me. If he was here It meant that Fayeth and Asmodei had to be close behind.

For a moment I wieghed the options of them finding me in my "element" so to speak, though they already knew I killed people when the need arose, but to actually catch me in the act was a whole different subject. The fact that Arkash recognized me was alarming. Just how was he able to figure me out so easily? What could have possibly given me away to him?

I placed my finger up to the beak of the mask, hushing him as I continued to observe the test subject I had cornered. The hemorrhaging was quick and given the indicators of his body, it appears it causes the blood vessells in the body to thin and rupture leading to the massive hemorrhaging shown in the subject.

Unfortunately he expired, leaving me with so little answers to my curiosities and a multitude of questions. It just meant that I would need to do more test, and luckily for me this crime boss had plenty to spare. My attention turned to Arkash. I never removed my mask but I did nod in acknowledgement of the Rathari.

"It would seem you have found me in quite the precarious situation Arkash." I pointed out, wiping the rapier blade off on the shirt of the corpse before me. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Arkash]

The birdman didn't really reply to him, not at first. Arkash strained his jaw and pulled at the grotesque involuntary lift of his lip in a cringe. Right. If the birdman really was Cyrus and not just someone that had elected to steal the clothes he sweated in, Arkash couldn't blow his cover by speaking details of his occupation. Nonetheless, Arkash remained at the ready as he veered off from the doorway, lest wandering eyes caught him in the dark of the abandoned home.
Arkash watched the handler as the doctor did while he awaited a response and the, handler of the dog began to bleed from several different parts of his body. Cyrus didn't even cut him, he just put that blade in his mouth. Was it cursed? No, Cyrus was a mage, that had to be it. He had the power to control disease, Arkash recalled. Arkash exhaled deeply and furrowed his brow. Why did all the coolest people he knew have to be mages? Why couldn't he be a mage?
As one with any degree of scientific knowledge might have guessed, the man expired, and Arkash reeled at the revelation. A deep breath filled his lungs to the part where it hurt while he watched the good doctor drop the corpse. Before Cyrus could ask his question, the sudden rush of air in his lungs set off a chain reaction that saw Arkash's left shoulder twitch once, twice, then spasm violently in such a way that his head tilted to the left and forced a wince at his lips and eye. The muscle there cramped, seemingly for no reason at all. Little by little, Arkash freed his captive body of the hold of his frayed nerves, then hissed quietly when the painful cramp set in. It was not a good night to test his new arm.
He just had to keep going. It was rare Arkash experienced anything without several setbacks. He was used to working around random problems at that point, and it was what made his new job so appealing; there was always something in the way, some obstacle he could conquer and declare himself the victor over. Arkash was on a conquest of his own against the world. and no amount of twitching and cramping would keep him from his goals.
When the good doctor spoke, Arkash perked. It was Cyrus. The rathari pulled his crooked lips in a grin. He'd known it was a human from the smell alone, but knowing it truly was Cyrus in his moonlight profession put Arkash at ease; it was one of the nicer humans.
"Ah, tell me about i'." How exciting! He'd not watched anyone kill another since the day met Fayeth in Searing. He'd been in combat with Asmodei, but those kills were made in the heat of battle. The kills that the pair strived toward that day would be cold. But then, Arkash couldn't be sure that Cyrus was there to kill or if he was simply experimenting with his magic. Though, the young rath intended to find out.
"This youer night job, eh?" He asked as Cyrus wiped his slim blade off on the shirt. "Jus' torturin' thugs or… killin' fellas too?" He asked as his yellow eye traced the body on the floor. He certainly looked dead, though Arkash couldn't see that well in the dark; he could have been breathing. His eye returned to the veiled doctor, where he squinted. "Wha's up wiv th' bird mask, enyway?" He couldn't deny there was something unsettling about it, perhaps the mask was meant to intimidate? Was such a thing really worth the functionality of tight fit dark leathers? How did Cyrus not knock his beak off when he opened doors?
"I'm affer th' boss. Some'un wan's 'im ded. Plus, 'e's th' one 'at sent a firin' squad to th' abandoned fa'tory, tryin'a kill me." Arkash stowed his knife finally, then rolled up his sleeve and lowered the cowl from his scalie lips while he adjusted and re-tightened the support brace of his prosthetic arm. The saddle of the limb wasn't a perfect fit, and gravity saw it come loose over time. Once it was back in position, he looked back to Cyrus with a tilt of his head. "So, wha's up, doc? Wha's 'ew doin' 'ere?"

Image source.

[Haldir]

☠ 60th of Ash, Year 120 ☠
Company: Sick Patients | Thoughts: Let the Experiment Begin| Mood: Intrigued

---

☠ I never removed my mask as my eyes looked to him,

surprised to say that he indeed recognize me. As I looked him over through my mask, I noticed he had quite the prosthetic arm. Curious about it, I approached it looking over where his arm met that contraption and amazed by how it fits him. "Astonishing, does it hurt? Do you ever cramp up from it?"

As I asked this, Arkash took a breath, and it seemed to cause his arm to spasm, which inferred to me that there may still be complications for him. The doctor in me perked up, taking hold of his shoulder and messaging it in order to ease the spasms. The limb was obviously tense and needed to relax to alleviate it.

His next question made me chuckle as I finished massaging his spasming muscles, finding his bluntness amusing. "I wouldn't call it moonlighting, but it is a hobby." I answered, though the next one forced an honest laugh out of me.

"You could its a little bit of both Ark........Venom" I said, realizing he would be confused by the name. "It's more so experimentation than torture, but I guess one could say the conditions I'm subjecting would be torture, pure agony given the nasty little flower I'm experimenting with." I mused with a chuckle, thinking of what I could learn from these trials.

"As for the killing, warranted side effect of my experiments one would suppose. Though given the ilk of subjects, no one will mind their deaths." I answered, moving back to the corpse. I examined his body one last time, before shifting his body back into the shadows.

On the inquiry about my attire, I laughed as he must not have understood the need to hide one's identity when doing "this" kind of work. "Its needed when you dont want to have people recognize you. Though given your sense, I will have to find a way to mask my scent." I answered, tapping onto my mask. "It's also a point not to use your actual name, and going by something else, an alias, hence why I called you Venom."

For a moment I took a look outside of the building to check to see if anyone was coming, mostly because this guard would no doubt raise suspicion as they would realize he has gone missing. Which meant there wasnt much time to spend idly chatting. Arkash however struck a chord in me when he revealed why he was here.

Someone tried to kill him, with a firing squad no less. Arkash hadn't been aware of this, but he had become quite special to me, kind of like a young sibling I never had. "It seems that we have a common enemy then." I spoke, my tone filled with malice, but not at Arkash but at this fool who tried to hurt someone who I spent time healing.

"I was here to experiment with this toxic flower, but now.....now I think I'm here to help kill this man. I could use the practice with Nevermore." I hissed, tapping the hilt of the sword. I was rather annoyed by the fact that one of my friends was put in danger by this man.

Humans were just nothing more than evil cloaked in the flesh. It made my blood boil and taking out a vial I dipped it into the bucket of toxic liquid. "I wonder how the subject will respond to ingesting the liquid another way." I whispered to myself, looking to Arkash, a smile under my mask.

☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Arkash]

"Well uhh, I dunno," Arkash spoke with a shrug as the doctor examined his steel limb. It was quite weighty, especially for someone with a frame as small as Arkash's, though he allowed the doctor to examine it. "I only jus' go' i' todeh. I'ss a bi' loose 'round 'ere." He bent the arm a little to show the gap between the saddle and his stump, as there was maybe half an inch of space for it to wobble around and bump. But, the interior appeared to be made of padded linen to reduce the discomfort of the rattling and bumping. Perhaps it was the first model of his limb?
While Arkash showed off the arm and all its functions, a spasm attack rushed through his body and forced his arm to cramp. But, Cyrus offered some measure of help to relax the muscles in the area. "Thank 'ew," he spoke through a wince, then rolled that shoulder break off the tension, and loosen the muscles. "I'ss no' because o' my arm, i'ss been happenin' since I woek up in cindafall," he felt the need to explain. That and his trouble with swallowing were both defects he suffered. Fayeth suspected it had something to do with the broadsword injury that blinded him, as damage to the head had a habit of 'mixing things up' as she put it.
Cyrus laughed at his question, and Arkash tilted his head, oblivious to the funny way in which he spoke. He was lowborn, things like careful talk and consideration weren't what he was taught, so he spoke what he saw with very little tact. For that, he came across as blunt, but he didn't know how else to speak.
For his next question, Cyrus corrected himself when he was about to call Arkash by name. Arkash squinted. Cyrus was right the first time, why had he changed his mind to call him Venom of all things. He parted his lips to speak, but the good doctor went on to explain that he was experimenting with a flower. Arkash rarely saw flowers in lower Nivenhain. Sometimes, a weed would sprout on the cracks of the cobbled roads, but there wasn't much special about them. "What kin'a flowa?" He asked with a squint. He surmised it was one from beyond the city's outskirts, but what use could flowers have aside from looking nice and smelling good?
After a moment of consideration, Arkash's eye widened with realization; the dead man had been killed by some sort of poison created by the flower. That was why Cyrus put his sword in the thug's mouth. It was coated with poison! Arkash did have to wonder, however. Was the doctor's experimentation a result of his experience with Arkash's venom? Had the rath somehow inspired the doctor? Doubtful; it was as he said, it was a hobby. Maybe that was why he wanted to buy Arkash's venom in the first place? For this specific hobby? Recognition flashed in his eyes, regardless of whether or not Cyrus explained.
His costume was explained as the need to hide his identity, and arkash loosed an "ohhhhh" of recognition. Indeed, humans were difficult to differentiate without taking scent into consideration, but Arkash didn't have such a luxury. How many dark scaled one-armed rathari nameless could there be in all of Lorien? No matter what, Arkash was going to be recognized. "I getchya," Arkash returned with a series of nods. So Venom was his criminal name? How interesting.
"-But these fellas kno' me alredy. 'Ey show's up where I lived an' shoots up th' place," he explained, then went on to state his purpose for being there, as Cyrus had already given him such consideration. He briefly mentioned his client, but it wasn't something Cyrus seemed to notice. Regardless, Cyrus volunteered his help, and Arkash paused in uncertainty. Was that a good idea? Was he even allowed help to complete his task? Arkash was unsure. Nonetheless, the idea of sharing a kill was... odd. He'd never thought that he might one day kill another in someone else's company, let alone with the doctor who'd patched him back together after his accident.
Cyrus seemed to be deeply affected by the news, however. It was as though he shared a personal grudge for the man Arkash hunted. He couldn't fathom why, but something about the doctor's concern touched him. How could he turn the doctor away? "Ya dun 'ave to," Arkash offered with a turn of his organic claw. He at least managed that courtesy; it was entirely Cyrus's choice. "Why common? Wha's he dun t'ya?" Was it any of his business? Not particularly, but then Cyrus was often an open book. Arkash didn't think before asking questions, even if it might have been personal.
"Only one way t' find out," Arkash spoke with a grin to the doctor's curiosity. With that, he looked through the window from his sighted side and scanned the streets. With a furrow to his brow, he drew a piece of parchment from his pocket and unfolded it to examine the work. He was close by the scene, or so the diagram Asmodei had drawn him showed. A slow squint relayed his recognition, and he refolded the paper to place it back in his pocket.
"We can get 'ere through th' alleys," Arkash observed as he turned to face the doctor. "C'mon," he offered with a wave of his claw, then checked the doorway for any unfortunate passing patrols before he proceeded to the back door. Before he left the cover of the home, he lifted the lip of his cowl to cover his mouth, then stepped into the alley and drew his knife. Arkash wouldn't be caught unprepared. They were without torches and the like, and had to rely on the subtle glare of the moon to light their way. As it often did, the moon led Arkash to his objective. Along the way, his footfalls made no sound. But as the straps of his prosthetic loosened, it began to clatter and wobble with his movements, so Arkash paused to tighten the straps again before they continued.
As they came to the exit of the alley, Arkash halted and crouched low in the shadows. Ahead of them, illuminated by the moon was a large home with intact windows and shutters both. The stonework was kept in good condition and the door appeared to be new. The wrought iron railings that led up the short flight of stairs to the entrance were polished and new; it appeared to be quite out of place in the rubble of the ruinous Lower Nivenhain, as most other homes were decrepit and broken.
Stood outside were two guards who both waited with their backs to the walls. One carried a broadsword at his hip, and the other a pair of hatchets. Both were armed with a small pistol, but it would only take one shot to end Arkash or Cyrus both, regardless of the size of the gun. Occasionally, dog handlers patrolled on by to add to the difficulty A full on frontal assault would end with them both either being shot or torn apart by dogs. Arkash stared at the scene in thought, then trailed back a few silent steps to look at Cyrus. Out of ear's reach, he asked a quiet "any ideas?"

Image source.

[Haldir]

☠ 60th of Ash, Year 120, Wither ☠
Company: Sick Patients | Thoughts: Let the Experiment Begin| Mood: Intrigued

---

☠ This gang leader was a common enemy indeed,

as one of my patients had suffered at his hand. I was keen on making him pay, and it afforded me the chance to experiment with willing test subjects. "He injured a patient I had seen recently, a charming boy, but caught up with the wrong crowd. He apparently offended this gang leader and he made an example of him."

Arkash had inquired about the flower I was experimenting with to which I responded by pulling one of the lilies from my pocket. "It's called the Black Moon Lily, I had acquired it at a flower shop in the Outer City. Though it's pretty to look at, the nectar is rather deadly when consumed, as I'm learning through trial and experiment." I noted, moving the corpse I had tested it on with my foot.

With that, he showed me he understood my reasoning for using an alias for him as well as the reason for my attire, and to that I was glad. it would be difficult to try and explain in depth why it was important not to let others know who you truly are when engaged in stuff such as this. Seeming to be satisfied, he began to move forward, I was right behind him, making sure I still had the bucket of toxic liquid in my hands.

We made our way through the alleyways, Arkash having a natural talent for moving so quickly and quietly, as I was doing my best to keep up with him, moving in a crouched kind of jog. I allowed for him to take the lead as this was more so his job as he explained, and would aid him however I could.

It seemed that this man lived overlooking the dregs of Lower Nivenhain, a pretentious positioning of his him. He must have seen himself above them. Looking out ahead it was clear the place was well guarded, and a frontal assault would not be preferable, but given the options laid before us, I didnt think we had a choice.

So when Arkash asked if I had any ideas on how to handle the guards, I could only think of one. Handing him the bucket I began to explain my plan so that he would understand. "Use the poisoned meat to take out the hounds, then kill their handlers when they are distracted by the dogs. I will handle the two in front." I instructed, giving Arkash a pat on his shoulder as I sat the bucket of poisoned meat in front of him.

If he happened to look at my mask, he would notice the faint trace of amethyst light coming from the eyes as I moved past him. Sticking to the shadows I crept up alongside the home. With a deep breath, I began to construct a weave around them both, one pulling the guard with the broadsword towards me and forcing the one with the hatchets away into the wall.

Being quick about it, I ran up towards the one my weaves pulling my way and drove Nevermore into his throat. Dismissing his weave as he began to drown in a pool of his blood, the sounds of gasping and gargling echoing behind me, I held the hatchet baring thug against the wall. Walking up to him I sliced across his neck as well, watching as he struggled for a bit before dying.

Looking around I kept out of sight just in case there were more as I awaited Arkash to join me, hopefully the Rathari would be alright on his own. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Arkash]

Distract the dogs with poisoned meat... Arkash half-lidded his eye as he gazed upon the offered bucket, then nodded carefully. That would be easy enough, right? Arkash took no pleasure in hurting dogs, but he wasn't against it either. If they were an obstacle in way of his quest to discover the intent of his client, they would have to be put down. With a nod, he took the bucket with his extended hook, then caught himself as he lost balance. It was heavy, even more so with the added weight of his steel arm.
The cry of metal gliding on metal sounded, though it wasn't loud enough to stir suspicion beyond the darkness of the alley. The bucket swayed back and forth while its handle remained caught on his hook. "Orite, ye... Dogs can' resist food," he spoke with a breath of strain, then took hold of his prosthetic arm with his real claws to help support it. "I'll get i' done," Arkash affirmed. But how did Cyrus plan to take on two armed men? With guns, no less? he knew Cyrus was a mage, but he wasn't that strong, he'd surmised.
Arkash was wrong, of course, as Cyrus began to push and pull the men with some sort of amethyst web. His eyes glowed a similar hue below the mask, And Arkash bared his teeth. Right, he had to get to work. With a hiss, he reached into his bucket and drew a slab of poisoned meat from its contents. While Cyrus dealt with the men, Arkash ran lowly around the corner onto the main street. He wasn't quiet: the rock of the bucket saw to that. He only ran a short distance from the good doctor before a handler came into view, making an approach toward the leader's estate. Arkash bared his teeth, then lept from the shadowy foot of the building with the meat held overhead, and threw it at the pair.
"OYE!" Called the handler with a vicious growl as the slap of meat hurtled past his head, and landed somewhere on the floor behind him. The guard dog looked to the source of the splatting flesh a glance, before a hard yank of the leash that bound it set its sights on Arkash. There, it growled lowly, barked, and snapped its drooly jaws. Simultaneously, the handler drew his long gun, and aimed straight at the rathari. Arkash's round pupils narrowed to pinpricks, and he made a frantic effort to drop the bucket, only to dive at the sound of the firing weapon. A gunshot sounded and boomed across the cold Rien streets as the caster shell exploded in a burst of ether. All the nearby patrolling thugs were alerted that something was amiss, and began to converge on the source: Their leader's home.
Arkash rolled across the floor and shook his prosthetic in a desperate effort to release the cumbersome bucket while the handler reloaded his gun. The dog, snapping and tugging on its leash broke free of the handler's grip, and dashed down the street in a mad, blood-thirsty charge. Venom filled Arkash's maw at the sight, and span on the spot to club the dog with the meat bucket, which yielded a yelp from the beast and knocked the bucket from his hook in the same go.
The dog reeled for just a moment, then leaped at Arkash in a powerful pounce that he hadn't seen coming. Only then did it become clear that the dog was far larger than Arkash. The Mastiff's jaws dove for his neck, but Arkash lifted his prosthetic arm in time to block the bite. That wasn't enough to support the weight of the beast, however, and it took Arkash to the ground with vicious, murderous intent. Arkash's strength gave quickly. His arm was heavy enough without the weight of the mastiff's jaws clamping down on him. The rath let out a startled cry as he ripped the knife from his belt, and drove it into the dog's jugular. The creature loosed a broken yelp as Arkash cut into its windpipe over and over again in a series of well-aimed stabs.
He was covered in dog blood by the time the creature stumbled off him, all for naught. The handler aimed his gun at Arkash, which the rathari caught, and in just a fraction of a second, rolled closer to the bloodied, dying dog to put the beast between him and the human once more. Another gunshot rang out, and the dog was blasted apart as it took the majority of the explosive force. Arkash was propelled across the street in an uncontrolled tumble, where he landed on his claws, and hooked the ground with his prosthetic arm.
Arkash breathed heavy. His veins were on fire. While the man reloaded his gun, Arkash burst into a sprint over the chunks of dog and dashed toward the handler with his knife ready. in an instant, the handler tossed the gun aside, drew his own blade, and slashed at Arkash in the same motion, deftly, the rathari ducked beneath the swipe of the human's long blade and drove his knife into the man's stomach when he closed the gap fully. A twist and pull saw him rip the knife out, then drive it into the sternum with a sickening crack. With what might have been the least intimidating war-cry every breathed, Arkash threw all his weight into the man to take the handler to the ground and leaned his knee into his stomach while he repeatedly stabbed the man in the chest with his bloodied dagger. Rage and wrath consumed him, and all of it was ventilated on the dying man. The handler's last moments were spent looking into the broken visage of the blood-caked rathari.
By the time he was done, the voices of humans boomed with aggressive yells in the distance, muffled by a chorus of barking. The patrollers were coming. If he and Cyrus remained in the area for too much longer, they would both be dead in minutes. So, Arkash dove for the man's long gun and tucked his knife into his belt. The barrel was hot from the friction of the gunshots, so Arkash slung it over his shoulder and searched the man's person for some shells, found four, and shoved them in his pocket before he ran to Cyrus, bloody and out of breath. "Th'man got 'ff a shot," Arkash explained as he took one of the shells, and fed it through the barrel. "Blud's no' mien," he explained again, then gave the gun a hard shake to drop the caster shell into the back of the chamber. It was a big gun, but the mechanism worked about the same as his pepperbox. So, he reset the hammer and cocked the weapon, only to hold the barrel with his hook, shoulder the stock, and aim with his one eye to the door of the estate. "They's comin', doc. We gotta be fas'," he warned.

Image source.

[Haldir]

☠ 60th of Ash, Year 120 ☠
Company: Sick Patients | Thoughts: Let the Experiment Begin| Mood: Intrigued

---

☠ What could possibly go wrong now,

as it seemed we were doing fine all on our own. In actuality, I was surprised he was working by himself, with no sign of Fayeth or Asmodei. It seemed the little Arkash was growing up, killing gangsters all by himself. I was starting to worry about him though, as it had been some time since he went to handle the dog handlers. I hope nothing happened to him, and I knew if he didnt show up soon I'd have to go and find him. I wasnt expecting what happened next.

I knew things had taken a turn for the worst, especially after that shot echoed into the night. Every guard within earshot of it would be alerted which meant we had little time to pull this off. I moved to both men, looting the pistol ammo and a three-shot pistol from their corpses as I saw Arkash dash towards me. He indicated what I already knew about needing to move, but clarified that the blood wasnt his at all.

That was good, but we didnt have time for that as more sentries were coming. Dashing into the home behind Arkash, I had no choice as I took out Vaccine and ready myself to use it for the first time. More so the gun was more so a deterrent, but it would actually see its first sign of blood tonight.

Hugging a wall I peeked around the corner seeing several men armed and looking around. I could charge them, but that would leave us outnumbered. Not to mention the ones outside were going to be on top of us soon if we didnt get away from the first floor soon.
Seeing no other option I grabbed Arkash by his arm and pulled him back outside.

Finding a dark corner I looked up to see a room with an open window. We needed to get up there and into that room so I used a weave in order to compel us up and into the window. The light purple fracturing of space floated up and hooked onto the window. Doing my best to hold my concentration, I pulled Arkash close to my body.

"Hold on to me." I whispered, compelling us up the side of the house. It was hard to pull myself, let alone another person. The good thing for me was that Arkash was light, his lithe frame making it a little easier. Had he been a fully matured Rathari, we would have had to do this one at a time and time didnt afford that next.

Slowly we finally made our way up and in through the window, doing my best so that we could land quietly so they knew we weren't up here. Moving towards the door I looked out to see if the coast was clear, and closed the door. Letting out a sigh of relief I looked to Arkash. "I almost wish your guardians were here to aid us." I said with a light, yet quiet chuckle.

Pulling us up into the window was draining, and I needed a moment to catch my breath.☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Arkash]

Arkash packed the weapon close to his chest and strained his upper arm at the weight of both his steel appendage and the gun alike. Ultimately, he was forced to lower it until it came time to fire, as his shoulder and bicep alike burned with strain. He was already tired from lugging the new appendage around, but the fight with the dog and the handler alike left him breathless. His eye fell on Cyrus as the human moved to the door, and pushed it aside. At once, Arkash lifted the gun and stepped into the building with the long barrel aimed for anything that dared to move ahead of him. The length of the barrel made it difficult to navigate hallways, he recognized, as he didn't have that much room to turn.
He thankfully didn't have to try and navigate the halls for too long, as Cyrus took him by his real arm, and guided him out of the house. He followed without question and fell back into the streets. The yelling and the barking were getting closer. Time was short, shorter than it had been prior to their short venture through the home. They hadn't the time to rethink strategies, they had to choose a plan and commit to it, Arkash recognized, but perhaps Cyrus had seen something Arkash hadn't? The man was quiet, but ultimately, Arkash trusted the doctor's judgment.
When he drew Arkash's bloodied form close to him, the rathari hesitated but didn't object. Hold on to him? How? He only had one arm and it was on his gun! Clumsily, Arksh squeezed the stock with the length of the limb that spanned his shoulder and elbow and gripped the doctor's coat with his fistful of claws. It was only when they began to ascend that Arkash squeezed the fabric of the human's coat and bared his teeth in shock and awe. He was flying somehow, likely through magic; the experience was quite strange.
They were lifted in through an open window that Arkash hadn't originally seen, and were brought to the floor safely. The moment they were steady, Arkash let go of his coat and returned his grip to the handle and the trigger of his rifle alike. He spied Cyrus as the man went to close the door on the far side of the room, then exhaled. Their thoughts seemed to be one and the same, as Cyrus wished that Arkash's guardians were there. "Can' say I blaem 'ew," he affirmed quietly with something of a grin. He'd have to ask about the levitation some other time, but for the time, he was content to understand the mechanism as 'magic'.
Finally, the rathari looked about the room with his sub-par vision and squinted. It seemed to be some sort of den, complete with ashtrays sat upon a table, a desk with various hard drugs and bottles laid out atop it, significant clutter, and a familiar pungent scent that clung to just about everything in the room. It was a place that the gangsters used to unwind, he imagined. "We gotta moev," Arkash reminded in a harsh whisper, then proceeded to the door Cyrus had closed with his rifle held low. If not for the clicking of his hook on the barrel of his gun, he would have been completely silent.
Still, the sound wasn't significant enough to rouse suspicion, he hoped. At the door, he twisted the handle, then turned the corner and lifted his gun to aim... and found no one. The path was clear. With a motion of his claws, he made a sort of 'this way' signal, then proceeded down the hall. He could smell a concentration of gathered humans in one of the rooms down the hall. There, Arkash was willing to guess that his mark hid.
At the door, he looked to Cyrus, if he followed, then nodded his head to the wooden barrier. Hopefully, he understood that there was a fight ahead. But, with Arkash's caster shells, he would be able to disorient and discombobulated, if not severely wound a few of them with his one shot. If Cyrus was ready, or if he wasn't, Arkash lifted the rifle to aim at the door, then booted it with his foot claws. As the door swung open, a number of guns were drawn, And Arkash squeezed the trigger.
At that moment, a number of things happened. The recoil of the weapon launched the rifle from his grasp and flung it against the wall behind him, the caster shell launched into a group of gathered mobsters and their leader alike, and several other gunshots rang out as bodies were blasted in all different directions. The recoil and blast of his rifle had damn near knocked Arkash off his feet, and the resulting series of blasts against the wall that separated him and the gangsters knocked him fully to the ground with the shockwaves of their impact.
The house rocked on its foundations, everyone was down except maybe Cyrus and a couple of other mobsters, if they survived. Through the smoke of the blasts, very little was visible.

Off Topic

Three gangsters remain standing and capable of fighting back within the room Arkash blasted. The rest (four including the boss) are down, but still living and possibly capable of fighting.

Image source.