Travels and Tribulations of the Shadow Singer
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very, very good, a pleasure to read as always.
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_Hit or miss, fuck or fight
its time to live your life
go ahead, I know IĀ“m right
IĀ“m gonna lay it on the line
put yourself in my shoes
would you stand up for your rights?
LineĀ“em up and knockĀ“em down
IĀ“m not running scared tonight!He was moving quietly through the streets of Peltarch, thinking silently as he slid through the different shadows. He had saw her the day before, sitting there in the commons. He had planned on heading out there to sit in his old seat, and at the least watch his old friends. But when he had saw her his knees had gone weak and his heart screamed out against him. He had stopped for a moment, simply staring, until his mind reminded his lungs they needed to take in oxygen if he had planned on making it past the next minute or so.
Now he paced the streets, confused, alone, unsure of why he let his feet bring him back here. He had found out a lot about the group of Ikurus's, and was working hard to do some good concerning that and those involved, but what did that really matter? Was it really doing any good? And then there were his friends, he had saw many the past few days but couldn't get the courage to speak to them, to show his face and say Ć¢ā¬ÅHiĆ¢ā¬Ā to those he had once held so close. And then there was her, the specter that would not leave his thoughts. He had passed their old houseā¦Ā¦hell his old house till he conceded it to her when she wanted to buy it and asked him if he mindedā¦a number of times, mind and heart giving a hundred different messages, all of which conflicted.
He needed to get his mind off things, he needed to get past these thoughts somehow. It was then that he heard the young crier boy running through the street proclaiming the āTitans Warā was happening within the ferret. He had heard of them before, and he thought perhaps a bit of a battle could do him well and let him release some of his frustration and anger. As well, he knew who now owned it. Knew the Red Bastard that likely moved through that place, who watched over it, who probably had the woman he loved up in the rooms above countless times by now.
He pushed the thoughts out of his head. It didn't help anything, it was self defeating and did him no good. So what, if the whore was with him so be it, it was none of his concern. He kept telling it to himself, repeating it in his mind as a mantra, trying to clear his head. She was nothing, a cheap slut that did nothing but played out a self fulfilling prophecy, the type that only happen because the person wants them to.
The confusion now was offset with rage, and that was good. Rage was good. Confusion was hard to think through, but rage, rage was easy to release. He made his way to the ferret, slipping through the shadows with ease. He spoke to Anah there, knowing exactly what to say to the flirty waitress to get the backroom pass. He had spent a good deal of coin there in the slots before, a small habit of his, however he had decided that night he would give no more of his money to the man that tried to kill his body and that did destroy his soul then he absolutely had to. He glided down the stairs to the arena, seeing many that he knew, but one in particular.
There she sat, watching it all, fat with the sin of her deeds. His feet begged to leave, to turn and flee, but he kept them there. He let the rage build, let the hum of anger and despair fill him. Gripping his blade he focused his eyes on the ring, stepping out of the shadows and cloak and striding straight to the middle, staring at those around, cold eyes looking through the metal of his helm, daring anyone to step in.
In walked a cleric, one he had seen before and knew any other day would've walked over him in such a dual. Any other day the holy powers of war welling within her would have over taken him. Unlike past days though, this time something was different. This time the field of battle was covered by the haze of rage, of anger, of pain. This time there was a point to the battle.
She began to cast and he let her, walking slowly. Let her have her spells, his blades would strike despite it. Finally she came at him as he strode forward, her sword coming down. He smirked, a vicious smile hidden by the helm, blocking her blade and stabbing out, slipping his dagger in through the crease of her armor, surprising her.
She backed off, regaining herself as he stepped back himself, beginning a hum of a low and powerful Dirge, the dark song the embodiment of all he was feeling a that moment. And with that they lunged back in, blades going, spells being wove. Each strike of his blade was done with purpose, with force, with his very being placed within it. Each parry knocking her blade away with pure and utter determination.
The battle went on for near ten minutes while the competitors matched blades and spells, as the woman on the outside and Zyphlin's closest friend exchanged a numbered of pointed glances while watching. Finally Bob, the rotund man running the battle, called for it to end, declaring it a draw. Zyphlin's fists clenched his blades tight, a draw was not what he wanted. He craved a victory, he craved blood, but it seemed he would not get it that night. As the gates opened he stalked out, ignoring the questions and the looks of those around him. With a step past the rest he called forth onto the weave, cloaking himself from sight, and moved away.
As he walked away, his back towards her, he could feel the rage tingling through his body but a single tear slide down his cheek. He would not run, he would not leave, no matter how much he wanted. There were things he had to do here, things he could help with, things he could make work, and he would not let her whorish indiscretions keep him from that or cause him to flee. He would not run._
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_Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I'll be watching you[Day One, Encounter One]
"Now we've got a name."
Zyphlin stayed low, listening as the two talked, smirking slyly as he listened to their plans.
"Crimson Tide, you like?"
"Its got a certain ring to it" Cray said with a small half smile.
As Zyphlin listened more he started realizing more of the story, putting the pieces together just like his mind had been conditioned to do. The pale on, Ikurus, was reforming Deacons little pirate band. Zyph had be wondering how long it would be before someone would try that after hearing about Deacon's departure, but never would've guessed this kid to be the one.
As the story continued more information came out which he took into his head with greedy need. Stories of drug dealing, pirating, prostitution, and a dozen other things were told. It was a start, but Zyphlin needed names. But he knew he would get them. He would watch this one, he would become his shadow, and when the time came that shadow would consume him.
[Day One, Encounter Two]
He watched the two move away, their little talk done, thinking they were so cunning, so smooth. Perhaps they were, maybe it was nothing but luck that he had managed to be there, at that moment, in those shadows to listen. But then, luck is the department of those devout to Tymora wasn't it.
He had planned on moving out then, getting somewhere to pass on the information if he could, but he caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eyes. A beautiful young raven haired woman, a definite foreign and exotic feel to her, wrapped in teal armor. "Where have I seen that woman before?" he thought, and then it hit him. She was the mute woman, the one studying under Mirkali and Adam. Satisfied being able to place her he went to move on his way, until he saw her begin to follow Ikurus.
What in all hell's was she getting into. She couldn't be just another of his whores could she? No, she seemed to at least have some sense about her despite apprenticing under Bromley and Mirkali (You see, a little known secret of that family line is that none of them may be sane nor have any sense about them). Stalking quietly over after the woman he found she was heading towards the large archers tower to the east. He moved underneath the structure, moving between the wooden legs of the tower and staying low within the darkness it cast from blocking out the sun. Quietly he crept beneath the ramp up, hearing the voices of Ikurus and an elven woman he had known by the name of Erevaine and a third, strained and quiet, that he figured must've been Taira's.
He listened as they talked and bantered. The more he heard from Ikurus the more he realized the mage was nothing more then a child that had bit off far to much he could chew. He had some talent about him for manipulating people, that was something, but someone was definitely pulling most of his strings at any time.
Hearing the words and the tone of Erevaine he knew exactly who it was. The woman was forceful, truthful but yet lieing at all the same time. A talent Zyphlin couldn't help but feel a grudging respect to. Every word the woman said was in a calm friendly tone but seemed like it must've been lined with deadly poison.
It seemed Taira must've had dealings with prostitution or the sort in her past, as she was far from pleased with hearing about Ikurus's current business. The three bickered for some time as Zyphlin listened, keeping note of what was important but realizing something further. He wanted information, he wanted to stop this group from growing, but he realized then he also wished to look out for this woman. For one she seemed to be dating his protƩgƩ which meant that Ikurus would be likely to feel Zyph's dagger deep in his back if he so much as touched her. But more then that, she was now a kin of Zyphlin in a way, a fellow bard in his line, and for that he felt a form of protectiveness over her.
He heard Erevaine finally get sick of the conversation and leave, trying to act calm but sounding nothing like it in the connotations of her voice. Once she leaved Ikurus's whole attitude changed, as Zyphlin assumed it would. He was a lot less confident, and a lot more considerate to the feelings of Taira, but of course the woman wasn't having any of it. "Good girl" Zyphlin thought with a small smirk on his face.
However, Zyphlin had no intentions of making her do the job all by herself. Casting a quick spell of invisibility and grabbing a hold onto the top of the archers tower he flipped himself up, landing squarely and quietly crouched on top staring down at Ikurus. Slowly he moved down behind him, blade out and ready. He watched as Taira was around the corner then moved up to Ikurus, a blade sliding around flat against the mans throat, the other pointed sharply into the middle of his back.
"Listen and listen well boyā¦" Zyphlin said, flatly and cold, quietly into the ear of Ikurus. "If someone so much as touches a hair on her head...you or your men...you will die and lose BOTH your heads. savvy'" the last bit said in a mocking tone mimicking Ikurus before he pushed the mage forward, giving him a chance to dive back down off the ramp and move back into the shadows.
He smiled slyly behind his helm, he could hear the mages nervous words as he felt the metal leave, blubbering about trying to figure out what was going on. Taira was assuring him it was Karma, and that brought a small silent chuckle to Zyphlin. Karma perhaps, fate, luck, whatever you'd like to call itĆ¢ā¬Ā¦but the simple fact was that she had found herself a Guardian Angel, albeit a dark one.
[Day One, Encounter Three]
He had slipped off once more, now outside the gates of Norwick. He had found a nice tree to slip up into, with enough shade to keep him shadowed from sight. He wanted to watch, and make sure that the fool mage understood what was expected out of him. Let him go about his little business of prostitution and games, someone would get him in the end, but he was not to touch Taira.
The foreign lass was continuing her declaration of karma, speaking a strange tongue continually to Ikurus, trying to persuade the poor by that he was getting hexed. However he wasn't buying it to much, and more so, it was making him start to get some sense of real footing. If it wasn't Karma like she keeps saying then maybe it was just his imagination, or just some freak thing. That was likely what was going through his head, or at least what he was he seemed to be thinking as his actions picked up.
Shaking his head slightly Zyphlin reached into his belt, producing a fine throwing dagger. "That kind of thinking just won't do" he thought to himself, smirking slightly. One last message, a bit more of a permanent reminder to the young mage.
Quickly he penned a note and attached it to his dagger. Setting up his aim right he let fly with the missile, quickly diving back afterwards and throwing and invisibility up as he rolled into the shadows unseen. The dagger flew true, screaming right past the ear of Ikurus and burying itself in the wall.
The people around him gave a small cry of surprise as the dagger whistled by. He nervously picked it up, looking around, his fear and suspicion rising back up quickly. "Good," Zyphlin mused, "that's what it was supposed to do."
Ikurus quickly unfolded the note, looking over the hidden message within; "Remember my warning boy, and all will be well."
[Day Two, Encounter One]
He moved through the woods like a stalker, hunting his pray. However this time his pray was no deer or other game, it was a pink haired bard that he had months back put much hope into.
He followed stealthily as her and the nature cleric moved through the Rawlins. He wanted to talk to her about something, about the half-orc Gagor. He saw the reaction on her face and knew what she was thinking. After all, Gagor was to be part of their group.
He slipped up into a tree, listening quietly as the nature cleric recited his tale of horror about the half-orc to the young bard. He waited for the right moment, he knew it would come, as the young bard sat and listened to her lover. Finally she spoke up, words going about the tide. That was his moment, and with expert aim he sent his dagger darting down, stabbing next to her. He leapt from the tree's, wrapping himself in the weave for extra protection from view. The cleric darted from the little cleft in the forest, looking with anger for the man he thought had attempted to take the life of his love, however he saw no one. The young bardic lass however had the dagger in hand and looked at the note attached with slight trepidation.
[Day Six, Encounter One]
Things were moving quick and well now. The information he had uncovered was skillfully placed in the right hands, and they acted upon it so perfect to what he wanted that they could've been attached to marionette strings. Two of the bards had been talked to and taken, another soon perhaps, if shaken enough.
He saw them enter town, saw the nervous looks of the man he had became the shadow of over the past tenday. A small smirk came over his face at that look, knowing his hopes of paranoia had succeeded. Him and the monk left the still free bard in the commons and moved off to talk to a woman Zyph had trusted would use the information well, and that she had. Infiltrating their ranks and gaining their trust, at least partially enough to get some information that was needed.
He followed after, listening to their talks, and the worried words of the mage. Time was growing short however. He needed to keep him on edge just a little longer before the net was set. He didn't plan on getting him arrested, not if he took notice to these warnings and actually seemed to change his ways. But the more he watched the more it seemed that wouldn't happen.
Watching and hearing the mage's words he realized however that the master actress still couldn't compete to much with coincidence. Coincidence is perhaps the one sense that those lacking real wisdom can touch on so easily, oddly enough. He needed to make sure to keep her safe, at least partially, and knew and easy way to do it. From the roof topics he let fly another dagger, barely missing the beautiful red head, and slamming into a wall. Like a shadow he was off, he had one more thing to do that day. The note and dagger would do enough there to assure she wasn't in league with him.
[Day Six, Encounter Two]
He penned a quick note before descending into the commons, sliding gracefully from shadow to shadow over to the bard Lilly. Silently dropping the note next to her he turned tail, back up into the rooftops and shadows, letting the note do its work.
She looked over it, and as she did he saw the confusion on her face. He would discover the reason for that later in coming tendays. However at the time she simply looked at it confused and then seeing Ikurus return gave it to him.
The pale mage looked over the note and frowned, not wishing to tell the bard what it said. "Fine, that works even better" the shadow singer thought. And sure enough, it did as needed. The young lass was nervous and worried. She bid Ikurus to head to Norwick but let her stay in Peltarch a bit longer. He wasn't to happy with it but an arrow, its tip a gooey mass instead of an arrow head, slamming into his side and emitting a deep low dirge magically, quickly changed his thoughts. With a low mutter the mage agreed and headed down the Nars.
[Day Eleven, Encounter One]
He watched quietly as the main whore whose name he had heard came near the north gate of Norwick along with a rather large armored human. Zyphlin gave a small smirk as he thought about the fact that most large armored men rarely hear lithe quiet ones.
He had realized that the time for intimidation, of fear, had passed. Ikurus was not going to veer from his path, or more so some of the people pulling his strings wouldn't allow it in the long run. The first cards had been dealt, the flop was down, and he'd been playing the cards. Now it was time to flip the last and let them show their hands.
Sending one last dagger, his cards in this little poker game, down near the whore. She seemed an easily excitable one and it proved to be true. The dagger and the note attached, proclaiming an end to all whores that were riding the tide, sent her into a worried frenzy. Her and the man looked everywhere for the owner of the dagger but to no avail.
Zyphlin was already off, tucking into a dark corner of the Boarshead. Ikurus would be back down soon, and she'd obviously go running to him. Now it was time to see what his hand held.
[Day Eleven, Encounter Two]
She told him he needed to talk to him.
He looked at her face, and his lit up with frustration and anger.
"Stopā¦...Let - Me -Guess."
And guess he did, and she nodded in agreement to it, handing him the dagger and note.
He calmed, his words smooth, his motions seeming confident and logical.
It was obvious the emotions that were running deeper, the breaking point had.
The cards were dealt, the last bets were made. And Zyphlin slipped out of the bar and up to Peltarch to lay his hand down.
[Day Eighteen, Encounter One]
He slipped down into the jail he had worked in for so long, slipping through the shadows easily and avoiding the routes of the guards. Moving quietly through the stone jail, his boots padding his foot falls against the hard ground, until he saw him. Slumped down against the wall, the smirk gone from his pale face, draped in rags. Zyphlin turned to leave, and he took the pot._