63rd of Ash, 120
He still didn't feel right, not after the stress he'd experienced the day before. Arkash had been made to face something that truly terrified him, its presence alone had reduced him to a whimpering blubbering mess. The object of his fear? A lone Hollow. He'd been locked in a room with one following the acquisition of his final contract, and it left him even more emotionally and physically drained than he had been after killing an innocent mother of four.
He'd finally come to realize that the road he'd chosen was a long and arduous one. He wouldn't often find rest or respite from the awful things that he did, neither would he find solace in his fellow gangsters in Lower Nivenhain. What was more was the intensity of the pursuit of his career, which almost seemed to form a rift between he and his favored protectors. Fayeth and Asmodei, though still present, felt so distant. Asmodei was always there to help him, but Fayeth knew little of Arkash's dabbling in endorsed murder. Cojack, his dear father was also gone, and the more Arkash considered his interpersonal relationships, the lonelier he found himself.
It didn't matter, he told himself. Once his quest was complete, he would reconnect with Fayeth and Asmodei both. He'd been given his last contract, the one he needed to complete in order to unveil his shadowy client, the idol of the ratty man, and the bearer of the bloodied eye. For the most part of two weeks, Arkash had been playing his game; jumping through hoops and killing indiscriminately. The rathari wasn't allowed to know his client's name and only heard of him from the courier he sent to deliver the contracts that detailed the people Arkash was meant to kill.
His first victims were the man and woman of a farming home, and he was made to kidnap their boy and deliver him to the ratty man. The second was the extermination of a bear in the woods. The third, the leader of a powerful gang in the city's slums, and the fourth? A woman in the Outer District, who's body Arkash was made to mangle and leave on display for the world to see. That was the day prior. His final test? To kill an Errant Knight on patrol in Outer Nivenhain and kite their hollow to a designated alley for capture. The errant was on a mock patrol; a training exercise for the command of his sole hollow.
There was a reason for his targets, a reason to see them all grow progressively harder and more dangerous. Arkash just didn't know what it was. It was there, he knew so. Hell, the courier had even said that Arkash was playing a game, which he'd realized himself during the fourth mission. To what end? No one could say.
Whatever the case, Arkash was prepared to see the task through to the end. Even if it meant he had to be within proximity to a hollow in the coming minutes, he'd come too far and killed too many people to throw in the towel. He didn't have to kill the hollow, he just had to evade it until the human bled out... if his opening attack was successful.
There he stood at a barrel-contained fire with the ratty man in his company; the courier that idolized Arkash's client, and delivered the contracts he'd followed like breadcrumbs to that night. He warmed his claw and stump at the fire, then sighed as he dipped to collect his prosthetic arm. As he normally did while preparing for a job, he plugged the few inches of the arm that jutted from his elbow into the metal casing and held it there with his foot claws while he fastened the straps and supports that held it in place.
"Th' secon' Alley on Fifth..." Arkash thought aloud, then looked to the ratty man for affirmation.
As he'd hoped, the man bowed his head, and grinned broadly. "Aye, tha's right! D'nae miss it or bump into Chevalier on the way!"
The latter was out of Arkash's control, but he could strive to reach it through the alleys; he knew the streets well enough from his youth. Arkash tightened the pick head of his arm, then looked to the ratty man again. "Don'tchya worry 'bou' me. I'll 'ave 'at 'ollow in a minit now; ge' goin'."
Despite the thickness of his common accent, the dirty human nodded, then turned and ran down the alley ahead of them. Arkash siphoned a few more seconds of warmth from the flame before he covered up the last of his visible scales with his cowl, then covered the fire to starve it. As he turned his eye to the wall behind him, he took a step back, then ran at the surface with his claws open and ready. He leaped before impact to gain a little extra height, then began to climb with the use of his pick arm. His body was plenty limber and ready to exert itself thanks to the heat of the flire in his blood, so he made it to the rooftop with relative ease. As he climbed over the ledge, he ducked low to the wall border of the square roof and crawled across the roofing to the side of the building that faced the street, where he adjusted his cowl again.
He began to unscrew the head of his prosthetic limb and stowed it on his belt after he clumsily applied the cover for the blade. Once that was done, he drew the knife extension from his belt along with its sheath, then screwed it into the head of his fake arm. It was the modular spearhead, which served for a well-aimed stab. He didn't doubt that with the momentum of his fall and the point of his strike, he would be able to pierce the Errant's armor.... or so he hoped.
Arkash drew a shaky breath to fill his lungs, then pocketed the sheath of his knife as he peered over the ledge of the roof. He had to get the opening strike right, or the human would be able to call for help and even overpower Arkash. he carefully envisioned the scene in his head until the sight of his target came into view, and beside him: the hollow walked. Again, Arkash froze at the sight of the creature. His venom began to pour and fill his mouth as he stared. He didn't slurp to swallow it as he normally did; such a sound would give away his position.
In the presence of the Golem, Arkash wasn't nearly as terrified as he had been the day before, he could still move, even. But, he had no intention of getting too close to it. Arkash pressed his jaws tight and drew Brodie's dagger from his belt. His hand clenched the handle of the blade tight as the errant knight approached, and Arkash felt his resolve waver. The fear of what could become of him if he failed his opening strike set in and his thoughts of the attack that took his arm and his eye robbed him of his rational thought...
That was until the errant knight came close enough for Arkash to make out the details. The argent was a boy, probably younger than Arkash was. What was more was that he paid almost no attention to the surrounding streets. Why would he? There was a big wall separating him from Lower Nivenhain. As far as he knew, the streets were safe and didn't need guarding. He could afford to be lax and gentle. Oh, how wrong he was. Something about the way he saw his unsuspecting prey distracted Arkash. It was as though instinct took over, and every fiber in his being resolved to deliver the payload of his venom.
He backed away from the wall, and lowered his cowl a tad to sniff at the open air as the sweaty human approached. he couldn't;t see neither his target nor the object of his fear from behind the ledge, but he could hear and smell fine. As soon as they were in position, Arkash broke into a powerful sprint and lept from the roof with all his quickly-gained momentum, aimed his fall and contorted his body to adjust, and drove the point of his dagger arm into the errant knight's shoulder. Simultaneously, the dagger he held in his claws acted as a brace for his knuckles as he ripped the argent's helmet off, then clamped the human's head with his drooly, venomous bite.
he pushed all the viscous fluids into the human's veins, then widened his eye as the hollow swung at him. Panic took over, and Arkash leaped off the human without twisting his blade to free it. The prosthetic was ripped from his stump as a result, but Arkash landed squarely on his feed with bloodied drool hanging in streaks from his chin. The hollow impacted the errant knight with his momentum and sent him to the floor in a tumbling, miserable heap while Arkash composed himself. He'd lost his arm, but he still carried his personal favorite; Brodie's knife. As the errant knight began to stand in a haze, Arkash widened his stance and twirled his dagger while he stood off against the duo.
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