34th of Ash
"Simple, my tail," spoke the rath as he looked over the scene. That was what the giant had said when he commissioned Arkash. But if it were simple, then why did they need Arkash to do it? The rath sighed exasperatedly, then put his claws together to pop the trapped air in his knuckles. He laid hidden in the shadows of an empty building with windows boarded and walls rotten. Some block or two away was a fire that waited for him, which he could access through the alleys that connected to the back door if he needed it. Across the street from him? His target slept.
Arkash had killed a member of the Black Boar Chargers that posed as a member of the lesser-known Sawtooth gang. In doing so, he'd won the favor of The Sawteeth, but their master still perceived disrespect in Arkash's act. After all, Arkash believed he'd killed a member of The Sawteeth. To make amends he was asked to kill someone for The Sawteeth. They even offered to pay him if he completed the job well. He was offered all the resources he needed to complete the task, but he was made to return his serrated shortsword. For the time being, he settled with a small team to support him somewhere outside of the Charger's turf, along with a barrel fire to recharge on if he needed it.
Did Arkash have any reservations on killing someone for money? Some, not many. He'd only killed two people prior to that day, but neither of them weighed heavily on him. It was self-defense. His next kill would be different from the rest, but it was ultimately the same situation. Who knew what the Sawteeth would do to him if he didn't follow through? Food wasn't free either, he needed that payment.
The target was hidden in one of the most well-kept homes he'd ever seen in Lower Nivenhain. Posted outside the door was a tall, burly thug of a man with his arms crossed. He didn't seem to care at all about the chill in the air that night. Furthermore, a few of his associates were on patrol in the area; they walked with large dogs on chains. Obviously, the men were well funded, and Arkash would expect nothing less from one of the most revered gangs in Lower Nivenahin.
it went without saying that he'd be brutally executed if he was caught encroaching on their turf, so, he devised a plan while he stared at the scene. As usual, he timed the frequency at which the men walked by with their dogs, but it was without a pattern. They came and went at irregular intervals, which was a problem. Furthermore, the guard for the door changed over once while he timed the dog walkers. The task shaped up to be a nightmare; he couldn't just kill the door guard, someone else would happen by and see that a trespasser was present. So, he had to somehow make the doorman leave.
His target was the second in command of The Chargers; a smart man that developed effective tactics to undermine the neighboring gangs of the district. So, he had to go. But, it was more than apparent that The Chargers recognized the value of their asset, as he was exceptionally well guarded. All the windows were barred, and he couldn't get close enough to the building to slip into the alleys with the doorman there, which left the front door as the only option.
Arkash took a moment to consider the scene, then eyed the dogs as they passed. Each of them appeared to be treated well, fed properly. Such a thing would surely be expensive to pull off in Lower Nivenhain, especially with the border closing down. What if one of them escaped? What if all of them escaped? No, Arkash caught himself as he recognized that he got ahead of himself. If he could somehow liberate one of the tamers of their dog, set it loose to run by the house, Arkash could sneak in and execute the target while they dealt with it, but how?
He continued to examine the scene and picked up all the details he could find. All the patrollers were men, they were all dressed in black, none of them carried torches, they were all armed with blades and firearms alike. Nothing seemed all too strange, except for the fact that none of them carried torches. Why wouldn't they? Weren't they patrolling? Looking for trespassers? Maybe the dogs are afraid of fire, he thought. The more he lingered on the thought, the more believable it felt. Perhaps it was how they disciplined the beasts? With the threat of fire? Arkash knew little on animal handling, but he knew a lot of animals feared fire.
So, while the Rathari formed a plan, he trailed through the back door of the abandoned home, and pulled his hood up. Getting to the posted team through the alley was easy, and the company that awaited him cast confused gazes to his direction. "Done already?" Asked the tallest of the gathered men; a giant, much like the majority of The Sawteeth. They were sat around the barrel with a bottle of something strong, or so it smelled.
"No," replied Arkash, who'd picked up his breath a little. "I jus' need sum fia," he spoke as he drew closer, then extended his claws to the open flames. "Go' anythin' that'll burn well?"
The group looked between one another before the giant gave one of the ordinary-sized men a nudge. "Ow, wha'?" He spoke in protest.
"Give 'im your shirt," ordered the giant.
"Nah mate, I'm nobblin'!" More complaints, more protests.
"Gods, do 'ew eva stop whinin'?" Asked the giant, which drew a chuckle from the other two men. The whiner, as the man had been designated, grunted and began to remove his shirt. Arkash bowed his head, then collected their booze, too. "Oi, 'ang on a minit," warned the giant, and Arkash paused.
"I need i'," Arkash spoke seriously.
One of the other men gave the giant a nudge with his elbow. "Boss's orda's. Th' liza'd ge's wha' th' liza'd needs."
Though the giant grumbled in dissatisfaction, he didn't otherwise fight the judgment of his peers. The man's shirt was handed to Arkash in turn, and the rath put it to the floor and extended his dagger to cut the sleeve while he strained the fabric with his jaws. "I'll buy 'ew a new one," lied the rathari as he offered the broken, dirty shirt back to the shivering human. Again, he sheathed his knife in his rags, then tucked the sleeve into the bottle with his claws, then pushed it deeper with his knife. Once his improvised weapon was complete, he tucked it under his stump arm. From the barrel, he drew one of the pieces of firewood, which remained lit at the end like a torch. That was everything he needed.
"Molotov, eh?" Asked the giant. Arkash nodded, and the giant shrugged. "Not what I would'a chosen, but I'm no' the assassin 'ere." Again, the rath nodded his head in acknowledgment, though he wasn't all to keen on talking with the men. He had a job to do, so he left. The thought stuck with him, however. Was that what he was? An assassin?
One step at a time, Arkash returned to the scene, then trailed up the street a bit more through the Alleys. But alas, the flame of his burning stick was bright. "Who's there?!" Called a masculine, well-spoken voice. Arkash paused. Someone had seen the glow in the alleys. His plan was to climb to the rooftop of one of the buildings and bomb one of the guards with the Molotov from above, but he had to improvise. Arkash quickly knelt and lit the rag as the sound of rattling chains drew near, then threw the torch to one side.
He picked up the Molotov just in time to see the guard turn the corner with his massive guard dog, who flinched and cowered at the open flames. Meanwhile, it's handler held both the dog's chain in one hand and an aimed gun in the other. Arkash yelped and threw himself to the side as the human squeezed the trigger, and the weapon boomed across the empty streets as it launched its runeforged shell.
The shockwave of an etherical blast rumbled in his chest and stole his breath as it boomed behind him, but not before he could launch the Molotov at the human and his dog alike. The bottle broke on impact with the floor, and the human startled. The dog pulled hard on the chain as the flames erupted at its feet, but the beast's coat still caught flame. The human screamed, and let go of the chain while the dog bolted. It was completely engulfed in fire while it ran, and the fresh air only fed the flames as the alcohol that mixed with its coat burned.
Arkash threw himself to the wall as the beast ran past him, and he bared his teeth. He found himself with more sympathy for the dog than the man that screamed and writhed on the floor, he'd only intended to hit one of them, after all. There was no time to waste, he had to handle the burning dog. So, Arkash ran after the sound of pained whines and rattling chains, then stopped where the street met the alley. The beast ran out into the open street, past the doorman. As expected, the posted human shot out his arms to try and stay the beast, then ran after it when the creature failed to stop. It was such a mess; what had he done?
There was no time for guilt or consideration; the door of his target's home was unguarded. So, he quickly checked the corners, then bolted across the street to the house. A test of the handle revealed that the door was, in fact, unlocked. A careful press of his claws opened the door before he let himself in, then closed the door behind him. Someone was awake, moving in the house. The sound of gunfire and yelling must've woken his target. Arkash's heart beat hard in his chest and venom filled his maw. Everything was moving so fast, everything had gone to hell in one fell swoop.
He was in the main hall and three paths led to the front door, where he stood. A doorway to the left, a doorway ahead of him, and a flight of stairs to his right. The rustle of movement seemed to come from the stairs, So Arkash kept low as he backed his way into the hall, and hid in the darkness while he faced the door. As he'd anticipated, a human ran down the stairs in the midst of putting his coat on; he was only half-dressed.
Though Arkash couldn't make out his features well, he rushed the man from behind in a powerful burst of his legs and drove the point of his dagger into the human's back. The momentum of his charge carried through and drove the man into the wall, where Arkash continued to stab him. His knife jabbed repeatedly into the human's back and prevented him from screaming. He struggled briefly, but Arkash clung to him and bit down on the crease between the human's neck and shoulder, where he injected his venom. A raspy, weak cry left the human's maw as he breathed through his broken lungs, and Arkash eased him to the ground to kneel before he put his blade to the man's neck, and drove the point into his jugular. As Arkash pulled the weapon out, a fountain of red ran down his front, and the man twitched and shook as he reached for his neck.
Arkash released him. It was done. His teeth ached, as they had the last time he injected someone with his venom; his mouth felt raw. It didn't matter, his target steadily lost consciousness while he drowned in his own blood, And arkash scoffed. His tongue slipped from his maw and licked the blood that painted his scales; the taste of copper put his nerves at ease. A shaky exhale saw him gather his sense when the man had stopped moving, and he ran about the house in search of a bag. When he found a suitable backpack, he began to saw the human's head off for proof. After he broke through the spine, he tucked the drippy head in his new backpack, then fled the house through the back door. Through the alleys and into the night, Arkash vanished and left chaos in his wake.
"Simple, my tail," spoke the rath as he looked over the scene. That was what the giant had said when he commissioned Arkash. But if it were simple, then why did they need Arkash to do it? The rath sighed exasperatedly, then put his claws together to pop the trapped air in his knuckles. He laid hidden in the shadows of an empty building with windows boarded and walls rotten. Some block or two away was a fire that waited for him, which he could access through the alleys that connected to the back door if he needed it. Across the street from him? His target slept.
Arkash had killed a member of the Black Boar Chargers that posed as a member of the lesser-known Sawtooth gang. In doing so, he'd won the favor of The Sawteeth, but their master still perceived disrespect in Arkash's act. After all, Arkash believed he'd killed a member of The Sawteeth. To make amends he was asked to kill someone for The Sawteeth. They even offered to pay him if he completed the job well. He was offered all the resources he needed to complete the task, but he was made to return his serrated shortsword. For the time being, he settled with a small team to support him somewhere outside of the Charger's turf, along with a barrel fire to recharge on if he needed it.
Did Arkash have any reservations on killing someone for money? Some, not many. He'd only killed two people prior to that day, but neither of them weighed heavily on him. It was self-defense. His next kill would be different from the rest, but it was ultimately the same situation. Who knew what the Sawteeth would do to him if he didn't follow through? Food wasn't free either, he needed that payment.
The target was hidden in one of the most well-kept homes he'd ever seen in Lower Nivenhain. Posted outside the door was a tall, burly thug of a man with his arms crossed. He didn't seem to care at all about the chill in the air that night. Furthermore, a few of his associates were on patrol in the area; they walked with large dogs on chains. Obviously, the men were well funded, and Arkash would expect nothing less from one of the most revered gangs in Lower Nivenahin.
it went without saying that he'd be brutally executed if he was caught encroaching on their turf, so, he devised a plan while he stared at the scene. As usual, he timed the frequency at which the men walked by with their dogs, but it was without a pattern. They came and went at irregular intervals, which was a problem. Furthermore, the guard for the door changed over once while he timed the dog walkers. The task shaped up to be a nightmare; he couldn't just kill the door guard, someone else would happen by and see that a trespasser was present. So, he had to somehow make the doorman leave.
His target was the second in command of The Chargers; a smart man that developed effective tactics to undermine the neighboring gangs of the district. So, he had to go. But, it was more than apparent that The Chargers recognized the value of their asset, as he was exceptionally well guarded. All the windows were barred, and he couldn't get close enough to the building to slip into the alleys with the doorman there, which left the front door as the only option.
Arkash took a moment to consider the scene, then eyed the dogs as they passed. Each of them appeared to be treated well, fed properly. Such a thing would surely be expensive to pull off in Lower Nivenhain, especially with the border closing down. What if one of them escaped? What if all of them escaped? No, Arkash caught himself as he recognized that he got ahead of himself. If he could somehow liberate one of the tamers of their dog, set it loose to run by the house, Arkash could sneak in and execute the target while they dealt with it, but how?
He continued to examine the scene and picked up all the details he could find. All the patrollers were men, they were all dressed in black, none of them carried torches, they were all armed with blades and firearms alike. Nothing seemed all too strange, except for the fact that none of them carried torches. Why wouldn't they? Weren't they patrolling? Looking for trespassers? Maybe the dogs are afraid of fire, he thought. The more he lingered on the thought, the more believable it felt. Perhaps it was how they disciplined the beasts? With the threat of fire? Arkash knew little on animal handling, but he knew a lot of animals feared fire.
So, while the Rathari formed a plan, he trailed through the back door of the abandoned home, and pulled his hood up. Getting to the posted team through the alley was easy, and the company that awaited him cast confused gazes to his direction. "Done already?" Asked the tallest of the gathered men; a giant, much like the majority of The Sawteeth. They were sat around the barrel with a bottle of something strong, or so it smelled.
"No," replied Arkash, who'd picked up his breath a little. "I jus' need sum fia," he spoke as he drew closer, then extended his claws to the open flames. "Go' anythin' that'll burn well?"
The group looked between one another before the giant gave one of the ordinary-sized men a nudge. "Ow, wha'?" He spoke in protest.
"Give 'im your shirt," ordered the giant.
"Nah mate, I'm nobblin'!" More complaints, more protests.
"Gods, do 'ew eva stop whinin'?" Asked the giant, which drew a chuckle from the other two men. The whiner, as the man had been designated, grunted and began to remove his shirt. Arkash bowed his head, then collected their booze, too. "Oi, 'ang on a minit," warned the giant, and Arkash paused.
"I need i'," Arkash spoke seriously.
One of the other men gave the giant a nudge with his elbow. "Boss's orda's. Th' liza'd ge's wha' th' liza'd needs."
Though the giant grumbled in dissatisfaction, he didn't otherwise fight the judgment of his peers. The man's shirt was handed to Arkash in turn, and the rath put it to the floor and extended his dagger to cut the sleeve while he strained the fabric with his jaws. "I'll buy 'ew a new one," lied the rathari as he offered the broken, dirty shirt back to the shivering human. Again, he sheathed his knife in his rags, then tucked the sleeve into the bottle with his claws, then pushed it deeper with his knife. Once his improvised weapon was complete, he tucked it under his stump arm. From the barrel, he drew one of the pieces of firewood, which remained lit at the end like a torch. That was everything he needed.
"Molotov, eh?" Asked the giant. Arkash nodded, and the giant shrugged. "Not what I would'a chosen, but I'm no' the assassin 'ere." Again, the rath nodded his head in acknowledgment, though he wasn't all to keen on talking with the men. He had a job to do, so he left. The thought stuck with him, however. Was that what he was? An assassin?
One step at a time, Arkash returned to the scene, then trailed up the street a bit more through the Alleys. But alas, the flame of his burning stick was bright. "Who's there?!" Called a masculine, well-spoken voice. Arkash paused. Someone had seen the glow in the alleys. His plan was to climb to the rooftop of one of the buildings and bomb one of the guards with the Molotov from above, but he had to improvise. Arkash quickly knelt and lit the rag as the sound of rattling chains drew near, then threw the torch to one side.
He picked up the Molotov just in time to see the guard turn the corner with his massive guard dog, who flinched and cowered at the open flames. Meanwhile, it's handler held both the dog's chain in one hand and an aimed gun in the other. Arkash yelped and threw himself to the side as the human squeezed the trigger, and the weapon boomed across the empty streets as it launched its runeforged shell.
The shockwave of an etherical blast rumbled in his chest and stole his breath as it boomed behind him, but not before he could launch the Molotov at the human and his dog alike. The bottle broke on impact with the floor, and the human startled. The dog pulled hard on the chain as the flames erupted at its feet, but the beast's coat still caught flame. The human screamed, and let go of the chain while the dog bolted. It was completely engulfed in fire while it ran, and the fresh air only fed the flames as the alcohol that mixed with its coat burned.
Arkash threw himself to the wall as the beast ran past him, and he bared his teeth. He found himself with more sympathy for the dog than the man that screamed and writhed on the floor, he'd only intended to hit one of them, after all. There was no time to waste, he had to handle the burning dog. So, Arkash ran after the sound of pained whines and rattling chains, then stopped where the street met the alley. The beast ran out into the open street, past the doorman. As expected, the posted human shot out his arms to try and stay the beast, then ran after it when the creature failed to stop. It was such a mess; what had he done?
There was no time for guilt or consideration; the door of his target's home was unguarded. So, he quickly checked the corners, then bolted across the street to the house. A test of the handle revealed that the door was, in fact, unlocked. A careful press of his claws opened the door before he let himself in, then closed the door behind him. Someone was awake, moving in the house. The sound of gunfire and yelling must've woken his target. Arkash's heart beat hard in his chest and venom filled his maw. Everything was moving so fast, everything had gone to hell in one fell swoop.
He was in the main hall and three paths led to the front door, where he stood. A doorway to the left, a doorway ahead of him, and a flight of stairs to his right. The rustle of movement seemed to come from the stairs, So Arkash kept low as he backed his way into the hall, and hid in the darkness while he faced the door. As he'd anticipated, a human ran down the stairs in the midst of putting his coat on; he was only half-dressed.
Though Arkash couldn't make out his features well, he rushed the man from behind in a powerful burst of his legs and drove the point of his dagger into the human's back. The momentum of his charge carried through and drove the man into the wall, where Arkash continued to stab him. His knife jabbed repeatedly into the human's back and prevented him from screaming. He struggled briefly, but Arkash clung to him and bit down on the crease between the human's neck and shoulder, where he injected his venom. A raspy, weak cry left the human's maw as he breathed through his broken lungs, and Arkash eased him to the ground to kneel before he put his blade to the man's neck, and drove the point into his jugular. As Arkash pulled the weapon out, a fountain of red ran down his front, and the man twitched and shook as he reached for his neck.
Arkash released him. It was done. His teeth ached, as they had the last time he injected someone with his venom; his mouth felt raw. It didn't matter, his target steadily lost consciousness while he drowned in his own blood, And arkash scoffed. His tongue slipped from his maw and licked the blood that painted his scales; the taste of copper put his nerves at ease. A shaky exhale saw him gather his sense when the man had stopped moving, and he ran about the house in search of a bag. When he found a suitable backpack, he began to saw the human's head off for proof. After he broke through the spine, he tucked the drippy head in his new backpack, then fled the house through the back door. Through the alleys and into the night, Arkash vanished and left chaos in his wake.
