Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 9, 2013 20:51:40 GMT -5
February 1-2, 23 CLE
The night drew on. Below Swain Manor, a sprawling basement lay: a veritable labyrinth of kegs and bottles, foodstores and house supplies. But the purpose of this cavern was not purely domestic.
The figure of a girl sat shackled against the back wall. Darkness enshrouded her features. Four forms clad all in black, barely visible in the shadows, stood guard about her in silence. Waiting. Several hours passed in perfect stillness. If their prisoner spoke, they did not respond. They stood at attention, like sinister statues, sentinels of the cellar-turned-cell.
Finally, uneven footsteps sounded on the stairs: step, step, cane. The clucking of The Raven heralded her master's arrival. Noxus' Grand General limped along the storeroom rows, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. In unison, the four posted guards drew their fists over their chests in salute.
"As you were," came a growl through the gloom. Clutched in his gnarled fist, a stone emitted its faint blue luminescence, contrasting with his blazing gaze. "Now, child," he addressed the shackled form, set his cane upon the stone between them. "Are you ready to be civil?"
Shackled, and wearing what she had before her form had earlier changed; the long black coat rested against her form like a slender dress with the collar banded around her neck when the hood was down. Her eyes set upon the floor in front of her, arms hung loose with her hands just as lazily open and limp. She said nothing as those ethereal violets rested on the darkness beneath her. A seemingly endless echo of silence plaguing her immediate surroundings, never willing to break under the harsh voice of the monster that approached.
Swain.
Slowly her head rose with the long, ebony braid hung over her shoulder and down the front of the black clothing. Her skin was pale in contrast to its darkness. The faint glow of the stone caught her attention first. It was the only important thing, then the gnarled fingers that gripped it came next. A slight scowl rested upon her features as hateful eyes lifted to Swain's aged visage. She said nothing, only tightened her jaw slightly as she remained otherwise still.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 9, 2013 21:19:54 GMT -5
Crimson eyes narrowed, flashed brighter, piercing the shadows. "I asked a question and I expect an answer."
The four guards surrounding the girl remained perfectly immobile, ready to act at any show of violence or upon the order of their general, who repeated himself, his tone ever-so-slightly edged:
"You expect me to be civil, when shackled to a wall?" She questioned with a venomous edge. It was then she'd pull at the shackles, drawing herself only a very limited distance off the wall. It could be considered a lunge, but she was far from able to accomplish anything. Back to silence she fell, her eyes settling still upon the stone that Swain had kept in his hold. Distrusting and vengeful she feared what he might do with her knowing what he had.
It seemed the silence would linger for a short time, broken finally by a slightly calmer voice. Colder, to be sure.
"What do you want from me, Swain?" Less of a question, and more of a demanded statement. It carried with it a detached tone that was considerably different from anything he'd heard from her before. She was distancing her emotions from the situation. Allowing the cold, calculated killer she was trained to be, to surface slowly.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 9, 2013 21:44:48 GMT -5
A sinister grin, visible only in the slight upturn of his eyes, spread behind his shroud as she retorted, drawing attention to her own vulnerability. He gave a derisive, one-beat laugh: mirthless, cruel. The Raven at his shoulder clucked her beak at their prisoner's defiance.
"Now, child. Did you expect that breaking and entering would yield different results? Surely you're not so naive." His voice, calm and measured again, rang out in the cellar's silence. He let his chide hang in the air as he limped heavily to a bench nearby and lowered himself onto the seat, laying his cane beside him.
"I want to know who sent you and what they are after. If this information is worth more than your life, you need only say the word--save us both the trouble of this little discourse." The smile again: a mask of civility, even as he offhandedly made reference to her potential demise.
Her teeth gritted tighter as she watched what movement of his she could, following the glow of the stone with her eyes to keep better track of his position. The creek of the bench reinforcing what she witnessed, "I told you." She said, remaining cold and calculated, "I came on my own. Nobody sent me." Which was true. Nobody actually sent her to the manor. She had come freely to snoop for intel.
Her fingers curled as she shifted trying to ease the discomfort on her arms and legs where the shackles pinched around her lean limbs. The chime of the chains only adding to the realization of her situation, forcing her to tread lightly in her responses.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 9, 2013 22:28:29 GMT -5
"How charmingly foolish." Two glowing orbs rolled in the dark. He shook his head. "What you must think of me, to put yourself in such grave danger in order to expose my supposed 'sinister plot.'" Swain allowed himself a bleakly incredulous laugh, the wheezing cacophony of which was enough to give one chills.
Silence again. His luminous gaze bored into her, searching for any sign of dishonesty in her dainty features. Finally, he spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper in the dark, "Did you at least discover what you sought?"
Those eyes of his met with her own, seeming to catch what little bit of light might be present in the darkened cell. The chill of his laughter rushing up her spine, caused her skin to crawl and her small frame to shift uncomfortably. His insulting jabs were met with a scowl upon her features, which vanished slowly back behind the blank wall that settled upon her visage.
"Only that you're a murderous son of a bitch." She responded icily. She'd fall silent again. The distant rumble of something outside of her vision, echoing through the ground that kept her hostage. She didn't answer his question otherwise. She learned enough. Though she wouldn't protest learning more - unless it was to end with her death. She might have some issue with that.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 9, 2013 22:54:54 GMT -5
He observed her wearily, withered hands clasped before him. "Perhaps," he replied. "But that's a matter of perspective."
The subtle incline of his head was all the instruction needed by the mage-assassin at the girl's right to draw a dagger from his belt. The blademetal reflected the crimson light of the general's eyes, the gentle glow of the stone between his fingers. "It's a shame you couldn't have been more clever, child. Last words?" No longer did his tone resonate of malice or derision--only of resigned fatigue.
Post by Master of Shadows on Feb 9, 2013 23:21:17 GMT -5
"I'm afraid her last words are not to be spoken this day." Came Zed's voice from the shadows of the basement, the deep red glow of his eyes peering from the darkness. He strode forward, no weapons drawn, however the shadows seemed to wreathe around him before disappearing as he stepped into the light.
"Grand general, I'm afraid we might have a slight conflict of interest with young Skylark over there. Just as you are I am not keen on breaking the recent truce between our states, so let us keep this civilized shall we?" Echoed Zed's voice, as if on queue a shadow sprung up from behind the mage with the blade and firmly grasped his shoulder. There was no hostility in the air, Zed honestly did not want anyone in the room to come to harm, even the shadow kept it's blades sheathed.
Shadow people follow him everywhere he goes. Looking over his shoulder, the paranoia flows.
She hadn't resolved herself to dying. Her limbs pulled and jerked against the shackles that kept her bound against the wall when she saw the glint of the blade drawn by the mage assassin nearest her. She was about to say something, until another voice broke the air. One appearing to delay her death at least for the moment.
A confused expression raced across her features, dislodging the cold exterior she had just put on seconds ago. She had never met Zed, only heard rumors of his sect. The League was not something she paid much attention to since it didn't benefit her lifestyle enough to concern herself over it. So, this man for the moment was a stranger. Her eyes narrowed upon Zed skeptically, nurturing the idea that this was a ploy to trick her into something, or give her a false sense of hope. She was suspicious of both of them, and didn't hide the fact well.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 10, 2013 0:21:31 GMT -5
Swain quirked a brow, the only visible indication of his surprise. He gave a two-fingered signal to the armed mage, who knew to sheathe his blade. The craft of shadow Zed and his sect employed held intrigue to the assassins. Though inscrutable behind their shrouds, they seemed to watch intently as the ninja spoke, attentive to his every move.
The Grand General took up his cane and got laboriously to his feet before addressing his unexpected guest. "She is an Ionian second in this scenario," he said coldly, "a trespasser and a spy first." Weariness quickly faded from his face, replaced by his usual brooding purpose as his gaze fell again upon Skylark. "And a liar if she belongs to you."
He pursed his lips behind his shroud. "Those who wish to foster peace don't send child-spies into the homes of their would-be allies." Crimson eyes narrowed. "The girl is an amateur. I'd have expected more from you, Master of Shadows. What could you hope to gain from this little espionage but one less pupil." Grim, foreboding, his growl rang out through the cellar. He leaned heavily on his cane, calculating gaze re-affixed upon the ninja.
Post by Master of Shadows on Feb 10, 2013 0:43:26 GMT -5
Zed's shadow released the mage's shoulder and again faded into the darkness without a sound. Zed's eyes shifted between the mage's examining them to see if any of them had any ideas.
Zed gazed at Swain as he stood, a frown formed under his mask as the general had a bit of a rough time standing up. "Indeed a trespasser and a spy but I was referring to what I would have to do should harm come to her." Zed's voice was calm and held no malice, but the sound of it still effectively conveyed the threat.
Zed walked over to Skylark, turning his back to the general to get a good look at her, not that he hadn't seen her before, he'd been tracking this one for quite some time now. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head to face him. "Understand this girl, I am here to help you, keep your mouth shut and don't make a move and you might make it out of here instead of being bird food." Zed spoke just loud enough for her to hear yet the authority in his voice was still powerful.
He turned to face the General, locking eyes with the man, Zed thought of this man as a strong leader, and he had the master of shadows' respect. "You are right to expect more of me Grand General, this one is not one of mine but rather one that was undergoing surveillance to become one of mine. In her current state she is no stronger then our weakest member, but I was willing to refine her." Zed still spoke as if nothing was wrong, he was almost completely relaxed in the situation, although that might have been due to the large amount of shadows within the basement.
"Grand General, I have nothing to hide from you, why would I be here if this was one of my order? If it had been she wouldn't have been caught and if she had been, I would have left her to die for her flaws." Said Zed as he strode over to a spare stool lying around. "Do you mind?" He asked as he pointed to it.
Shadow people follow him everywhere he goes. Looking over his shoulder, the paranoia flows.
The words and movements of Zed only caused her to tense up more. Had she really done so badly? She hadn't given her true reasons for being present away, and neither would know of them. Her head lifted when Zed placed his finger beneath her chin, and tried to turn her face away from the masked ninja with an uncomfortable scowl. The chains rattling as she tried to shift away from him, only tensing against her pull at the ninja's words.
She wanted so badly to say something, but she'd stay quiet.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 10, 2013 1:29:48 GMT -5
"Not at all," Swain replied darkly. He waved towards the stool in a show of measured hospitality. The ninja's subtle "threat" had not escaped him--but nor had it shaken his composure. Whatever Zed had in mind, imprudence would be his downfall if he attempted it here, in the general's own domain, where numerous guards, both seen and unseen, devoted themselves unwaveringly to the protection of their chief-of-state.
He tucked the glowing stone into a pocket of his robe, folded his hands over his cane, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "So. You've come to request that I release your impertinent little prize. That you may train her in your art." He raised his brows, cleared his throat, glanced to the shackled form upon the floor, then back to Zed.
"Yet, unfortunately, I've no sufficient motivation to do so. The strong survive, Shadowmaster, not the foolish. Though," he paused, bemused by his own dry wit. "Perhaps the Order of Shadows indoctrinates its pupils in matters of social etiquette. The child might benefit from such a thing."
Head tilted, equally impassive, crimson eyes glowing like embers through the gloom, the general waited for Zed to offer incentive or further explanation.
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