The Eye of Black - IC

[VladimirNikolai]

Alessa had always disliked blood. It was thick, sticky, vile stuff. It gave people life, but the sight of it was almost universally feared by the populations of Leyinsvale. This was because usually, the sight of it accompanied death.

This, however, was not the reason Alessa disliked it. Well, at least not anymore. She disliked it because it was difficult to get out of her clothes, and it made her hands sticky afterwards if the kill had involved some close-range killing - as her last one had.

Each Lair had a special Fount of Cleansing for cleaning up after a kill. It was meant to have some sort of theraputic power, that gave you energy. But Alessa never noticed that. She just liked the free soap that it continuously spawned. It didn't help washing up that the Lair was so dark, though. I mean, sure, they were the Eye of Black, but something a little more than a a couple of candles per room could have been alright.

Sighing as she decided to wait until morning to make sure the blood was out, she headed off to the sleeping quarters. Being such a close-knit family, there was one major room with all the beds. Kind of like a barracks. Only the higher-ups got their own rooms, and Alessa was one of these people. Whilst she thoroughly enjoyed the company of the other murderers most of the time, she was glad to have some privacy once in a while.

Pushing her key in clumsily and twisting, her door squeaked open. Again, darkness. Lighting a small candle with a relatively easy spell, the room glowed dimly. She closed the door and quickly changed into her sleeping attire, heading for the bed. As she reached it, however, there was a small note placed carefully on the pillow. Breaking the unmistakable seal of the Black Mistress of their Lair, Alessa opened it.

I trust you have done well, child. You always do. Now rest, but not for too long. Tomorrow morning will be busy - the Lair has big plans. Too big even for you, our prized killer, alone. Sleep well.

Your Mistress, Larona.

Wondering what that could have been about, Alessa placed the note on her small bedside table. Slipping into bed and blowing out the candle, she let her mind wander over her last kill. She hoped someone found the poor man's wife in that cupboard. There was enough potion on that blade to stun her for only a few hours, but she did lock the door.

Oh well, she thought, closing her eyes and waiting for the morning.

[Sheep]

Jason rubbed his gloved hands together. He felt desperately cold and couldn't await the warmth of the sleeping quarters and his own blanket, mind you, the whole air of being in the presence of back stabbing killers often frightened him, but he had gotten used to the cold unfamiliararity by now. He settled himself into a snuggle position against the wall as he awaited for the arrival of his 'other'.

A dark shadow descended over the room, roughly illuminated by a single candle Jason had just lit. He shined the light in the general direction of the figure, as if he was trying to ward of some hideous beast. His wading stopped as Gorden came into the light, his usual cheeky demeanor hanging over him like a bad omen. Jason waved in greeting.

"Cold enough?" Jason spat in disgust, looking at the short sleeve shirt Gorden wore.

"Cold? I never noticed, but looking at you it seems another ice age has dawned upon us, maybe i should go get my undies so it doesn't get cold dow...."

"Oh shut it" Jason cut in.

Gorden laughed and walked down the hallway, despite his little act, he was rather weary, whether it was because of their recent business or his lack of food was a complete wonder to him, though he did feel a slight astigma for cheese recently. Jason followed in after him, wadling around like a penguin as he tried to keep his body warmth. Gorden looked down at him.

"Really, if your that cold, why don't you just put a jacket on?"

Jason mumbled something under his own breath before they entered their sleeping quarters, he a Gorden shared a bunk bed and the two constantly fought over their placing to a point where it often involved the others who shared the room, but tonight they simply went to opposite bunks and quickly slept.

[Peter]

Victor sat on his bed, his mask still on. He was thinking about the latest mission what the Eye gave him. It was yesterday, so he was wondering why didn't he get another mission. Looking at his spiked gloves, he smiled under the mask. Knowing that some day the Eye would give him a mission, his hand wandered on the bed, finding something. It was just a small spike. I need to fix my gloves sometime. He sighed.

[Sword_Monkey]

Janji looked upon her room with pride, her own room, all to herself. She'd just become a Black Assassin.

The contents of the room were exactly as she had found it a few days ago, without any change, not even the bed had been used. Janji wasn't a normal Elf, she didn't sleep on soft beds with silky black covers, no she had to use a power in the shadows to retreat into. It made the shadows watery, it let her float in them, stuck between the realm of shadow and the real, there she slept. It reminded her of home, of the abyssal depths of the ocean where she came from. But the room in front of her, the room she hadn't touched was her new room in her newest home, the Eye of Black's Vendalfar lair. The room symbolised her own worth, how much she meant to the family she had entered here in the lands of man.

She missed the normal dormitory, where the others of lower rank slept, and would visit them often, those that accepted company. She felt quite protective of the others now, they were all quite able, survivors to the last. But she couldn't suppress her anxiety is she lost one of her few new friends. Supposedly this was not how an assassin should act, or feel, but that was who Janji was, and she'd kill anyone who challenged her feelings. Her bloodlusting and caring personality made her an enigma in the eyes of the others, borderline insane in fact, but she would never hurt a fellow Vendalfar Assassin.

Tonight she would rest, it was late already and the morning would bring in something big, according to the Mistress. It annoyed her that she would have to wait until morning, it wasn't the waiting but the time she was waiting for. Morning. Always daylight with these people, it seemed ceremonial to let each other rest, and always at night. Janji preferred to rest during the day when the evil sun danced in the sky, throwing down beams of scorching light. Janji could work in daylight, after all the sun cast useful shadows like no other, but the darkness of night was her playground. She hoped the big news would have some night action, unless it was a call to redecorate the lair, that would be big news too.

[Psymon]

"Uh-uhm, Redeye? Sir?"
Gar growled as he awoke, the first few morning rays poking through the black curtains of the hall. He slept standing up, leaning against the wall, his wings made it quite difficult to sleep on his back. He looked down to see a human whelp cowering before him. He knew humans tended to find him intimidating, but this boy must have been very new. Shaking his head free of the last few strands of sleep, he answered,
"What do you want, boy? And stand up straight, I'm not going to hurt you."
The boy lost a little of his stammer as he spoke, "A message from Mistress Larona. There is a new mission for you, you're to see her as soon as possible."
"Any details?"
"None that I was told, sir. But this message seems to be going around a lot of the Lair's members. This is big."
"Thank child. I'll get going."

Stretching he pulled on his cloak and slung his crossbow between his wings. He hoped this wouln't take long to explain, mornings were the only time he could really concentrate and feel himself. He could feel her stirring in the bottom of his mind, dragons were slow to wake.

[Georgery]

Reynald settled into his bunk for the night.

He had been careless. Foolish, stupid. He had committed the crime when another had the chance to observe him doing it. Not that he regretted the crime itself. He cared about his family as much as he cared about anyone else: that is to say, he did not. However, to allow himself to be caught was embarrassing.

However, it had not turned out so badly. He was accepted into this new order, the Eye of Black. He had heard rumors of this organisation before now, whispers of killings and many silly legends. He had not payed much heed to them. Yet this new society provided him with exactly what he needed. He was only new here, this was his second night after the Eye saved him from his execution. Yes, he was only of low rank, but he could work his way up from there. His goal was to reach the top, to gain power, and he was willing to do whatever is necessary to do that.

Whatever was necessary.

[noname0112]

Goroudo just woke up from his bed and stood up. He approached the windows and looked outside. His face is calm and emotionless, his eyes are still looking tired from sleeping late the last night.

"I can't sleep lately..." He said and went near to the desk near to the window. On the top of the desk, there was an oddly designed mask which is alternately colored black at the left side and white at the right. He looked at it first, and then took his with his right hand. "Remembering this, covers the deep wounded heart of mine. Wiping me out of my sad memories, away from the nightmare." He said and wore it.

He changed to his usual clothes, and lastly his cloak.
"I shall be off..." He said to himself, already in front of the door outside of his room. Opened it and then went outside to take out for a walk. Outside his house, people were looking at him in the streets. Looking at them he got pissed off and controlled his temper. Suddenly he felt something wet on his cheeks and noticed that he was crying all of a sudden.

"...Eyes that cry of no reason, a soul crying from inside. Nostalgia and nightmares meet, dried up tears and frozen hearts. Cold as steel and destructive as a double-edged sword, never was it sharp, never was it blunt. Coated by rust, poisons ones blood..." He said to himself continuing on his way.

[<{$W}>mr plow]

Zraakin barged into the sleeping quarters, his heavy footfalls making his presence known amongst his fellow assassins, he was greeted with annoyed glares and grumbled complaints. The usual fare Zraakin supposed. He continued to his 'bed' if you could call it that, Zraakin didn't care much for comfort but he appreciated the fact that the Eye was generous enough to provide him with accommodation's suitable for one of his size and weight, which by any means was no small feat. Besides he was tired of sleeping on the floor even for a minotaur it was degrading. Zraakin simply placed his Axe against the wall removed his Armour and cloak and adorned his less battle oriented garb, making sure his sword was still intact and in its scabbard.

Taking a quick glance around the room he noticed a note left for him Enjoy the new accommodations and rest up, for tomorrow will herald the coming of great events
Zraakin was slightly concerned by this the Mistress did not normally go to such lengths as to personally communicate with him. It was normally done through a middleman or messenger explained to him as if he was a small child, which Zraakrin found quite insulting to his intelligence, well at least they now acknowledged the fact he could read. He proceeded to burn the note and fall asleep.

[VladimirNikolai]

It was a bit of a chilly morning. Alessa could feel the draft coming in from under her door, although she could still see nothing. Little natural light penetrated the sleeping quarters of the Vendelfar Lair, especially not through Alessa's thick door. Whispering quietly, the candle sitting on her bedside table flickered to life, illuminating her shoebox sized room.

It's been so long since I've bought new shoes... she vaguely thought, contemplating the size of her room.
No time for that anymore. Her eyes straying over the note, she suddenly remembered its contents. Sliding out from under her blankets, throwing on some more suitable clothes, she opened her door and stepped out. There were several candles already lit, most of the members were awake or waking. Some slivers of natural light did make it down from the small stairwell leading to the entrance.

The Lair was situated underground an old, abandonned house. Everybody from the town believed that the house was haunted, and as such had never ventured inside. Those who did never tended to come out. It was originally a three story house, but now it was many more. The first floor was used as the main entrance, all the windows boarded up, the door appearing so also. But in fact, there were hairline cracks down the edge, and the door opened like any normal one - provided you had the key.
The floors above the main entrance were, like the entrance floor, abandonned completely. The old furniature from when it was first built was still in place, but under centimeters of dust. The floors below, however, teemed with life.

The immediate floor below was the sleeping quarters. It was a rather large, roughly dug-out room, with rows of beds - both bunks, and singles - lining the walls. At the foot of each bed was a small chest, which the occupant of the bed, or beds, shared. These were lockable, but most of them were left unlocked. One of the walls had a line of doors, for the Black Assassins. In the centre of the room was the Fount of Cleansing, next to another staircase, leading down.

These were the stairs that Alessa took. Stepping smoothly down, she alighted briefly on the training room floor, before continuing down to the Alchemy room. It was empty at the moment, but usually it would have a few people making their potions in preparation for a new assassination. Striding carefully over the slippery floor, she stopped at a heavy blackwood door. Knocking, she waited for a response. It came soon.

"Come in, Alessa. I have been waiting."

Pushing the door open, Alessa strode in. Larona Velten was not an old woman, but she was certainly getting on in years. She looked up from her desk, smiling at the much younger woman.

"Goodmorning, Mistress." Alessa said.

"Please, Alessa, call me Larona. You of all people deserve it."

"Thank you, Larona. Now, you say big plans?" Alessa replied, slightly embarassed.

"Yes... yes... we have been... commissioned by a rather large force. No, don't look worried, they are paying well. Very well, indeed. But they do not ask for any light task. They seem to be a politically motivated group, and they are asking for multiple high-profile assassinations to be made. There are seventeen names on the list, and they have given us a month to complete them. The Black Council has decided that a... team, of sorts, be created. But no more! We must wait for the others. You would not want to get bored listening to me speak the same thing twice, would you?" the aging woman said.

Alessa smiled, shaking her head. She took a seat on the other side of the Mistress' desk, and the pair sat, chatting, waiting for the other members of their new 'team'.

[Raver]

Hurtz fist slammed into the Mans face, several loud cracks could be heard and his jaw dislocated. The unfortunate man was unconscious before he hit the floor, blood pooling around his head. Four other men leapt from their seats and surrounded Hurtz who roared loudly baring his sharpened teeth. He had casually walked into the pub a few minutes before, He guessed Humans didn't look kindly on half breeds, especially ones who intimidated them. One of them had already paid for his mistake with a broken jaw...

The two men infront of Hurtz both drew nasty looking daggers and lunged at him. Lurtz ducked and the two men fell unceremoniously on the floor, the other two looked from the two men on the ground and back up to Hurtz then charged themselves.

Hurtz blurred into action, whipping out two knives from his clothes. With a low spin and a few quick jabs, the two men landed on the floor, one of them bleeding fro a large gash in his neck and another grimacing, clutching a blood soaked wound in his stomach. Hurtz sheathed the two blades and lunged at the remaining men, tackling on of them to the floor he whipped him around and wrapped his arms around his throat, squeezed, and was rewarded with a sharp CRACK as his neck snapped.

Rising to his feet Hurtz rounded on the last man who, seeing what happened to his friends dropped his knife and made a break for the door but Hurtz anticipated this and flung out his arm, coat-hangering the poor man who topled to the floor. Hurtz grabbed him by his shirt and hefted him up to his feet, and began to pummel the man with his spare hand, his fist making a bloody mess of his face then lifting him off the ground, Lurtz locked his jaws on man's neck, tearing out his throat in a shower of blood.

Throwing the body to the floor he walked back to the unconscious man and stomped heavily on his neck, which snapped loudly. Hurtz then walked back to the counter, finished his ale, picked up his bow and quiver and left the tavern.

-----

Hurtz slowly opened the door to the dorm and walked in, its various occupants staring at him in a mixture of surprise and terror at this monster who walked though the door loaded with weapons and coated in still-wet blood. With a deep voice He introduced himself, "The name's Hurtz."

He then proceeded to claim a bed at the back of the room by unceremoniously dumping all his belongings on it and left the room again, he made his way down the stairs, through the alchemy room and up to a large black door which he slammed his fist on once. A voice inside called, "Enter!"

Hurtz pushed the door open and strode in seeing the Mistress Larona and an Elf, who he eyed maliciously but then ignored. "Larona, you sent for me did you not? What do you and the Black's want?"

[Sword_Monkey]

Janji woke with a start, she had heard something loud enter the building through the shadows. It was time to wake anyhow, but the beast that had entered was quite intimidating.

Janji slipped through the shadows into the mistresses room.

"Mistress Larona, Alessa, the newcomer Hurtz, good morning." She said and took a seat bathed in unnatural shadow that hadn't been there a second before.

[Peter]

A figure was standing in front of Victor's bed.
- Mistress Larona wants you at her quar...- a cold look from the man ended the figure's speech.
- I know already. There is no need to announce it in my ears.- said Victor, and sat up from the bed. His face was still covered by the mask he wore.
- Erm, sir, I mu...- a cold grab on the neck silenced the man. Luckily for him, the "inner" side of the gloves were not spiked.
- I know the rules. There is no need to warn me about them.- he stood up, and released the man, then shook his head. - Sorry, just woke up within a bad mood.
- I was informed of your nature sir.
- Good. Now, I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't dare to come back.- said Victor, and reached under his bed. He took the sword and the knife under from it, attached the knife to his belt, and the sword on his back.

Victor was at the door of the mistress after a few minutes. He knocked, and when a soft voice answered to come in, he slowly opened the door. The small light what was in the place shined on his face, releavaling the pale skin, and the vampire teeth. A bit of disgust could be seen across a face from a shadow, but he was not interested in strange looks what people gave him.
- Morning, mistress. I am Lord Victor, and you have sent for me, am I right?- the voice was cold, yet held respect.

[Sheep]

Jason and Gorden were standing outside in the morning sunrise, caught in a moment of eternal bliss, they read the note they had found which was addressed to them.

"So, do we get rid of it?"

"Why don't we burn it?" Gorden said

"With what?" Jason exclaimed, still shivering slightly.

Gorden swept the note out of Jason's hands gingerly and ate the note. Jason stared at him strangely, he raised his eyebrow and turned back to the sun.

"That was unexpected.." He murmured.

Gorden leaned his back against the railings and sighed.

"Shall we go? We don't want to be last so we?" He said, mustering his confidence.

"Indubiously..." Jason said, turning on his heel to walk back inside.

The two made their way to the Alchemy room, Jason noted the floor was slightly slippery and felt uncomfortable having to watch his step in here, infront of them was a heavy blackwood door.

**********************
The two burst through the doors, smiling cheekishly.

"Gorden"

"Jason"

"The acclaimed twins!" The two annouced simultaneously before bowing.

Gorden suddenly lost his footing and slipped, falling on his stomach. Jason looked down at him nervously and quickly walked over to another chair, pulling it from underneath the table noisily, he dumped himself on the seat with a huff. Gorden got up and dusted himself before taking a seat next to Jason.

[noname0112]

Goroudo finally arrived at Mistress Larona's quar after his long walk. He proceed inside calmly and continued to her room. A guard stood up in front of the door to her room and looked at Goroudo.

"What is your business here young man?" The guard asked.
"I am here to see Mistress Larona." Goroudo replied.
"And your name?" The guard asked in reply.
"Goroudo Dante" He said and then took off his mask.
"Oh, it's you... apologies for that you may proceed Mr. Goroudo." The guard opened the door and then Goroudo wore his mask.

Inside he saw the mistress, he bowed to show his respect and then greeted the mistress with respect. "Good morning mistress, apologies if I were late."

[Peter]

- Look who's here- said Victor in a mocking tone towards the twins. He was standing beside the door, so he had a perfect view of the hilarious fall.
- I hope you do not plan doing that well on missions.- he said without a single feeling in his voice. Looking at Gorudo who just arrived a few minutes later, he simply remained cold, and waited for any others. He didn't want to introduce himself more times than needed.

[Georgery]

A call about a mission. This was what he needed. A chance to get noticed within the Eye of Black. He equipped himself before he went to the meeting, he liked to be prepared if they had to leave quickly. He wore clothing that looked normal, however was suitable for skulking. He equipped scabbards with daggers at his wrists inside his sleeve, ankles inside his pant legs and below his armpits, throwing daggers, some coated with sleeping poison, with a small vials of Ailment liquid and Draught of Black at his belt, with his rapier. He often didn't need the rapier, though: it was usually far more efficient to stab someone in the back.

He entered the door to see the Mistress and others from the Eye.
"Greetings, comrades, and my Mistress", accompanied by a slight bow towards the mistress. "To what do I owe the honor?"

[<{$W}>mr plow]

Zraakrin awoke grumpily getting up and adorning his bulky Armour and quickly gathering his weapons, he proceeded down the stairs to the training floor, and then the alchemy room eventually finding himself in front of a large black wooden door he opened it and went inside. he was greeted by a group of his fellow assassins a quite odd mixture of characters. This served to confirm suspicions of a important mission, and to boot he guessed he had to work in a team, lovely. "My apologies Mistress, in future I shall endeavor to arrive in a much more timely fashion" Zraakrin said "Is everyone here now, as I am quite curious as to the nature of the reason you would request our presence"

[Psymon]

Gar walked into Larona's quarters. He looked around, recognising a few of the Lair's members. "Redeye is here."

[Mullertime]

The room hung in a misty darkness. A light glow eminated around the dormitory. It was barely noticable, but brought a grey shine to the items adorned around the room. The dorm was unchanged since it had been 'vacated' several months ago. The previous owner, Titus Vinductus, had kept the room in a neat state, but with little items. The helmet he wore still stood on a shelf, facing the door. A dim red glow eminated from inside it, like 2 small candles by the eyes.
It was strange, as much as Titus Vindictus had vacated the room, he was still inside it.
In fact, he was all around the room. His spirit and mind were all that remained of him. Aside from memories, armour and a name scribbled down in the Eye of Black register as one of their higher ranked assassins, all physical prescence of Titus has gone. In a back-firing spell, Titus had rended his mind and soul from his body. His entire physical self disintegrated in the blast, but his soul had visciously clutched onto the baclk magic in the air. He was not going to accept death so easily.

Now, he roamed as a spirit. Still living and killing with the Eye of Black, under the new alias of Facade.

A dim glow of light seeped from under the doorway. Morning had arrived.
The eyes on the helmet started to glow brighter. The red glow became a red ball of light, as his mind floated out from the mask, and drifted towards the centre of the room. The grey energy started to get sucked in to the red orb, as the haze of the room started to dissappear, as it all gathered in the orb. In a matter of seconds, the haze was sucked from the room, as the orb now started glowing a violent white. With a quick quiver, it shot down into a mask, which was neatly lying in the exact centre of the room. The room was once again plunged into darkness. But the mask started to shake. Within a few seconds, it drifted up into the air, and hung in the centre of the room. As the mask looked up slightly, a cloak drtifted from its resting place on the bunk, and deftly wound itself round below the mask. A chest-plate flew off the shelf, and took its place below the cloak, as 2 gauntlets shot out from either side of the room, coming to rest by the armour.
Facade was now ready.
He reached over, as his Jet Blade drifted over to him, and into his hands.
He knew a mission was coming up. He knew he would get the chance to work with others. He always enjoyed teamwork in his new form. But he still missed the old thrill of watching a sword plunge itself into the helpless victim. But now, this thrill was overtaken with the joy of watching a person's soul get rended apart in front of his very eyes, at the hand of his new blade.

He located the room where many other assassins had gathered, and floated down through the floor, drifting from the ceiling and into the meeting room. As he gracefully floated down from the ceiling, his cape fluttered slightly, but the rest of him remained unwavered. He floated over towards a corner, and after his blade slowly rotated a few times, it came to rest in one of his 'hands' (If they could be called that), as he deftly held it in front of him. A few others looked over, but many had become accustomed to the unwavering image of his mask. Those new to him always took the occasional glance, to see if the expression changed. But found it walways remained the same. The exact same expression every time. The viscious grin constantly beamed from the mask. No one ever knew what he was thinking, or even what he thought of them.
To dispel some of the glances he was receiving, he addressed the group.
"Good day" a low and powerful voice echoed throughout the room. "I understand that you are all prepared for the monumental task ahead"
A few people met this with confused glances. And if he was back into his old human form, he would be grinning ear to ear...