10-04-2010, 11:26 AM
((Follow my character Issalar, a human aspiring to be an assassin. His new mentor (Played by Nexi) will guide him on his path.))
Chapter I
"It begins."
Issalar stood in the middle of the grassy fields near Eastvale Logging Camp, his eyes set on a not so very peculiar tree some distance away from him. Something was watching him, though he didn't bother doing anything. Something approached him, though he didn't bother doing anything. Soon, he felt a knife pressing against his throat, and finally now, he did something. He blinked. The woman behind him spoke softly, «You know the drill. If you say anything, you'll be dead within seconds.» Issalar stood his ground, not replying. «My superiors have come up with an offer for you. We've been watching you for a time, and they feel that you're ready to be initiated into our order. Personally, I disagree. I don't see what they find of value in you, but my opinion matters not.» Issalar keeps his eyes on the tree, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly as he finally responds with soft words. «You'll see what value one can find in me.» His tone is rather calm, even due to the sticky situation with the knife and all. She responds in a graceful manner, «You've still some way to go. My approach was far too easy. Still, do you, or do you not accept our offer?»
Issalar closes his eyes for only a second, replying. «I accept the offers.» His tone blunt and plain. The woman keeps her dagger to his throat, removing the hand from his mouth. «Your training begins now,» she says «There is a man in Stormwind we've been tasked with eliminating. I entrust this contract to you.» She produces a scroll from her satchel, holding it in front of his face. «You can find all the required details here.» The man moves his hand up to grasp the scroll, offering her a short reply. «Understood.»
She whispers in a soft, but deadly tone, «Close your eyes and count backwards from fifty to seven. If you turn to face me, I'll kill you.» Issalar nods weakly, closing his eyes as he starts to count silently. The lady looks to either side quickly before removing the blade and dashing away into the rain. Issalar blinks slowly, opening the scroll up. The rain pours down on the scroll, and onto his head, but he does not care.
Soon, he finds himself in Stormwind, dead set on doing this task, determined to prove his worth. Bullstrode, his target is a dwarf. Issalar wanders into the Dwarven District, watching the dwarves, soon finding the one fitting the detailed description. The dwarf slams his hammer down hard onto the molten metal while the other Dwarf flips the object with each strike. Issalar 's eyes lock onto Bullstrode, observing him from a distance. Bullstrode wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Aye, Therum, tha' be enough for now. I'm off ter the pub." Therum Deepforge, another dwarf, nods and sets the still-burning metal into the water to cool. Steam immediately fumes from the liquid, hiding the Dwarf. Issalar glares at the steam, before spotting Bullstrode again, following him into the inn, though keeping a certain distance. The aspiring assassin heads upstairs as the dwarf orders his drink. «Oi! Let's have a rum, aye? Only stuff that'll quench this old Dwarf's thirst after a hard day's work.» Bullstrode grins up at the barman, who simply pours him a flagon of the drink. Issalar folds his arms, grabbing an empty mug from the table he is seated at, placing it closer to himself. The dwarf downstairs raises the mug in thanks to the barman, and downs the entire thing within seconds. As he does, he motions with his hand that he'd like a second. The human (Issalar) seems to focus, staring at the mug in front of him. Bullstrode raises the second mug in thanks just like before, but this time looks around for a seat rather than chugging down the drink like a barbarian.
He sways a bit up the stairs and bursts into a drunken laughter as he nearly spills his drink all over the floor. «Oi! Get a third one reddeh, mister barman!» he calls out as he continues upwards. Issalar raises his head slowly, listening to the noise. He eyes the dwarf, offering him an unsincere nod. Bullstrode walks cheerfully up to the man sitting alone and gives his shoulder a good punch. "Ah! Don't mind if I join yeh, lad!" He calls over his shoulder. "Make that -two- rums, mister barman! The lad up here looks parched!" The human nods in thanks to the dwarf, «Thank you, master dwarf.» A barmaid walks up with the two mugs and sets them down. Bullstrode leans back to get a good look at her rump as she bends forward to do this, and then gives it a good slap. He bursts out into laughter at her reproachful look and heads back.
Issalar casually hides his face as the barkeeper comes, rubbing his eyes with both hands. He moves his hands away shortly after the barmaid passes, grasping his mug, «To good health, sir!» he says, raising his mug up. Bullstrode downs his mug at the sight of a fresh one. "To good health, indeed!" he yells out, spilling rum down his front as he tries to talk and drink at the same time. Issalar takes a swig, before moving the mug down below the counter, most likely hiding it from the dwarf. He tries to distract him by talking, "What's your name, friend?" he asks, at the same time pouring some liquid from a small vial produced from his shin pocket. Bullstrode blinks hard a few times, tying to get the man back into focus, and grins stupidly. "Bullstrode Forgehammah. Best blacksmith this side of the searing gorge, eh? Ha!"
Issalar smiles for a short moment before letting out a loud burp. "Ugh.. I really shouldn't drink. I have to work in a few minutes" he says, moving the mug back to the table, the poisonous liquids having been rendered invisible by now. "You know what, since I can't pay you back, and I can't drink right now, I'll give you the rest of my drink. Drink for me, my new friend!" he says, producing a grin. Bullstrode sets his empty mug aside and reaches for the man's mug. "Eh, you're a lightweight, eh? Can't drink and work. We do that sort of thing all the time. Some of our best riflemen fight while drunk, you know. Helps their aim!" The human lets out a laugh, though it sounds more fake than any other laugh. "I'm not a dwarf, sadly. You guys are famous for your drinking capabilities. I envy you."
Bullstrode downs the mug as quickly as he can and slams the empty mug down hard onto the table. "But aye, I hafta be gettin' back ter work too. What's yer name then, lad?" He asks, swaying in his step beside him. Issalar rises slowly, "Jakeson." he replies, offering the man yet another smile. "I'll be sure to visit you the next time I'm out for a drink." The dwarf laughs drunkenly and nods, his scraggly beard shaking and dripping rum onto the floor. "Well I tell yeh, yeh come down ter the forge and I'll fix yeh up with a right nice set o' them blades, eh?" He punches him again and walks off down the stairs, laughing when he nearly trips and topples down the entire flight. Issalar waits for a moment, before heading out as well, smiling faintly. He leans against the crates, every now and then glancing at Bullstrode with great interest. The target moves to his dwarven friends, and to the forge, though his eyes close tightly and he grips his chest. Knees buckling, he has no choice but to fall onto all fours. Therum, seeing Bullstrode on the floor, drops the metal and rushes to help him.
Issalar nods to himself, heading the other way, walking rather casually, a smile filling his face.
Chapter I
"It begins."
Issalar stood in the middle of the grassy fields near Eastvale Logging Camp, his eyes set on a not so very peculiar tree some distance away from him. Something was watching him, though he didn't bother doing anything. Something approached him, though he didn't bother doing anything. Soon, he felt a knife pressing against his throat, and finally now, he did something. He blinked. The woman behind him spoke softly, «You know the drill. If you say anything, you'll be dead within seconds.» Issalar stood his ground, not replying. «My superiors have come up with an offer for you. We've been watching you for a time, and they feel that you're ready to be initiated into our order. Personally, I disagree. I don't see what they find of value in you, but my opinion matters not.» Issalar keeps his eyes on the tree, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly as he finally responds with soft words. «You'll see what value one can find in me.» His tone is rather calm, even due to the sticky situation with the knife and all. She responds in a graceful manner, «You've still some way to go. My approach was far too easy. Still, do you, or do you not accept our offer?»
Issalar closes his eyes for only a second, replying. «I accept the offers.» His tone blunt and plain. The woman keeps her dagger to his throat, removing the hand from his mouth. «Your training begins now,» she says «There is a man in Stormwind we've been tasked with eliminating. I entrust this contract to you.» She produces a scroll from her satchel, holding it in front of his face. «You can find all the required details here.» The man moves his hand up to grasp the scroll, offering her a short reply. «Understood.»
She whispers in a soft, but deadly tone, «Close your eyes and count backwards from fifty to seven. If you turn to face me, I'll kill you.» Issalar nods weakly, closing his eyes as he starts to count silently. The lady looks to either side quickly before removing the blade and dashing away into the rain. Issalar blinks slowly, opening the scroll up. The rain pours down on the scroll, and onto his head, but he does not care.
Soon, he finds himself in Stormwind, dead set on doing this task, determined to prove his worth. Bullstrode, his target is a dwarf. Issalar wanders into the Dwarven District, watching the dwarves, soon finding the one fitting the detailed description. The dwarf slams his hammer down hard onto the molten metal while the other Dwarf flips the object with each strike. Issalar 's eyes lock onto Bullstrode, observing him from a distance. Bullstrode wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Aye, Therum, tha' be enough for now. I'm off ter the pub." Therum Deepforge, another dwarf, nods and sets the still-burning metal into the water to cool. Steam immediately fumes from the liquid, hiding the Dwarf. Issalar glares at the steam, before spotting Bullstrode again, following him into the inn, though keeping a certain distance. The aspiring assassin heads upstairs as the dwarf orders his drink. «Oi! Let's have a rum, aye? Only stuff that'll quench this old Dwarf's thirst after a hard day's work.» Bullstrode grins up at the barman, who simply pours him a flagon of the drink. Issalar folds his arms, grabbing an empty mug from the table he is seated at, placing it closer to himself. The dwarf downstairs raises the mug in thanks to the barman, and downs the entire thing within seconds. As he does, he motions with his hand that he'd like a second. The human (Issalar) seems to focus, staring at the mug in front of him. Bullstrode raises the second mug in thanks just like before, but this time looks around for a seat rather than chugging down the drink like a barbarian.
He sways a bit up the stairs and bursts into a drunken laughter as he nearly spills his drink all over the floor. «Oi! Get a third one reddeh, mister barman!» he calls out as he continues upwards. Issalar raises his head slowly, listening to the noise. He eyes the dwarf, offering him an unsincere nod. Bullstrode walks cheerfully up to the man sitting alone and gives his shoulder a good punch. "Ah! Don't mind if I join yeh, lad!" He calls over his shoulder. "Make that -two- rums, mister barman! The lad up here looks parched!" The human nods in thanks to the dwarf, «Thank you, master dwarf.» A barmaid walks up with the two mugs and sets them down. Bullstrode leans back to get a good look at her rump as she bends forward to do this, and then gives it a good slap. He bursts out into laughter at her reproachful look and heads back.
Issalar casually hides his face as the barkeeper comes, rubbing his eyes with both hands. He moves his hands away shortly after the barmaid passes, grasping his mug, «To good health, sir!» he says, raising his mug up. Bullstrode downs his mug at the sight of a fresh one. "To good health, indeed!" he yells out, spilling rum down his front as he tries to talk and drink at the same time. Issalar takes a swig, before moving the mug down below the counter, most likely hiding it from the dwarf. He tries to distract him by talking, "What's your name, friend?" he asks, at the same time pouring some liquid from a small vial produced from his shin pocket. Bullstrode blinks hard a few times, tying to get the man back into focus, and grins stupidly. "Bullstrode Forgehammah. Best blacksmith this side of the searing gorge, eh? Ha!"
Issalar smiles for a short moment before letting out a loud burp. "Ugh.. I really shouldn't drink. I have to work in a few minutes" he says, moving the mug back to the table, the poisonous liquids having been rendered invisible by now. "You know what, since I can't pay you back, and I can't drink right now, I'll give you the rest of my drink. Drink for me, my new friend!" he says, producing a grin. Bullstrode sets his empty mug aside and reaches for the man's mug. "Eh, you're a lightweight, eh? Can't drink and work. We do that sort of thing all the time. Some of our best riflemen fight while drunk, you know. Helps their aim!" The human lets out a laugh, though it sounds more fake than any other laugh. "I'm not a dwarf, sadly. You guys are famous for your drinking capabilities. I envy you."
Bullstrode downs the mug as quickly as he can and slams the empty mug down hard onto the table. "But aye, I hafta be gettin' back ter work too. What's yer name then, lad?" He asks, swaying in his step beside him. Issalar rises slowly, "Jakeson." he replies, offering the man yet another smile. "I'll be sure to visit you the next time I'm out for a drink." The dwarf laughs drunkenly and nods, his scraggly beard shaking and dripping rum onto the floor. "Well I tell yeh, yeh come down ter the forge and I'll fix yeh up with a right nice set o' them blades, eh?" He punches him again and walks off down the stairs, laughing when he nearly trips and topples down the entire flight. Issalar waits for a moment, before heading out as well, smiling faintly. He leans against the crates, every now and then glancing at Bullstrode with great interest. The target moves to his dwarven friends, and to the forge, though his eyes close tightly and he grips his chest. Knees buckling, he has no choice but to fall onto all fours. Therum, seeing Bullstrode on the floor, drops the metal and rushes to help him.
Issalar nods to himself, heading the other way, walking rather casually, a smile filling his face.