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A Lady of the Night: Part 2 |
| Written by Nathan Bittel | |
| Monday, 10 March 2008 | |
Tonight, another life would end by her hand and the following day she would be compensated for her deed. It wasn't personal, never was, it was just a job. No different than slaughtering cattle to make beef. Once the job was done, she would visit the drop point outside of the walls of Kuril and collect the modest payment. It certainly wouldn't be enough to significantly improve her lot in life, but combined with her small pay from her work on the docks, it would be enough to comfort her for a while longer.
Things would be much better if she belonged to the local assassin's guild, the Ravens, but the pigs would have nothing to do with a woman. Freelance killing was difficult; the Ravens took most of the best paying jobs and had their newest recruits taking on the lower end tasks. This left little work for those who either weren't good enough for the guild or they denied just because they didn't like them. Krisatris suspected that the only reason they even let the freelancers work was because it made the Ravens look that much better when a job was botched by a non-guild member. The Ravens would swoop in like their name sake and clean up the mess left by amateurs. Those wishing to employ the services of an assassin had become less and less likely to go to anyone outside of the guild, the fees were higher but the job got done and it was done well. It was even rumored that if for some reason a job went bad, the Ravens would return thrice the amount paid to them. Only those who could ill afford the Ravens high rates would seek out a freelance assassin, which meant the pay was usually barely enough to buy dinner at a cheap tavern.
Krisatris shook herself from her thoughts and moved to the door, she quickly opened it, exited into the night and closed it behind her without slowing. She supposed it would be better if she had a secret entrance into her hut for her to come and go, but that just wasn't an option right now. Once out into the open air, she was met with the smell of salt water and a cool breeze coming from the ocean. She could hear the waves and ripples in the water lapping against the wooden docks not far from where she was. Moving steadily towards her target location, she kept her speed at a purposeful pace. Not too fast as to draw unwanted attention, but quick enough to force people to move out of her way and write her off as too busy to bother. She had an hour's walk ahead of her and by the time she reached her destination; night would be fully upon the city.
Krisatris walked with her head ducked and her hood pulled over her head in order to conceal her face from anyone curious enough to look in her direction. She did her best to conceal that which marked her as a killer; the feline grace, the careless stride, and the relaxed way in which she carried herself. City guards could pick out a killer in a crowd of hundreds of people with nothing but a light glance. To keep from piquing the guard's curiosity, she shortened her steps a little and shuffled; she tightened the muscles in her back, and kept her arms rigid. She would look like just another scared woman moving through the night on her way home. A couple of heads turned her direction, but she noted that they were just glances from men wondering what lie beneath the cloak, and from women who found some passing comfort in the assurance that they weren't the only female walking the streets at night.
The city guard of Kuril was known for being especially rough on crime, punishments were very severe; having a limb chopped off was the least of the punishments, so muggings and rape were few and far between but it still happened. She would have to be cautious at least until she left the area surrounding the docks. Defending herself was not something she worried about, but having to kill someone on her way to a mark was not a good way to go unnoticed. The city guard would be aroused for the rest of the evening and it would make moving through the city that much more difficult. Sleepy, bored guards were much easier to move through than alert panicked ones.
As Krisatris made her way deeper into the city the buildings grew larger and gave birth to deeper and darker shadows. She was still a ways away from her location, but she decided that now would be a good time to look for a place to ascend onto the rooftops. Once on the roofs, she could move at a faster pace and with less worry of bumping into someone. She began scanning the shadows and dark alleys for a safe place to make the climb. After about a hundred paces, she rounded a corner into deep shadows cast by two buildings built excessively close together. She scanned the walls looking for holds, and upon finding a suitable spot, she took a couple of loping strides at one of the buildings. Running full speed, she placed her foot against the wall and used the hard surface coupled with her momentum to propel herself up and back towards the other building. After turning the other direction in mid-air, she reached out with both hands and grasped a second story windowsill, the momentum carried her body hard against the surface of the building and she let out a low grunt as some of her air was forced from her lungs. Krisatris dangled for a few seconds getting back her lost air and waiting for anyone who might have seen the sudden movement before pulling herself up and balancing on the small ledge. She glanced up and estimated the height to the roof; about seven feet.
Krisatris crouched down, took a couple of deep breaths, and sprang upwards as high as she could. At the apex of the leap, she grabbed the edge of the roof and scrambled up as quietly as she could. Staying in a low crouch on the roof, she scanned the city's rooftops and decided on a course to her target location. Silently, and cat-like, she moved over the rooftops and leapt from building to building. Assassinations in the inner city were always easier to move towards, the buildings were built closely together with no more than a dozen feet between one rooftop and the next. She moved gracefully leaping from one building to the next each time landing silently. On longer more momentous leaps, she would duck her shoulder and roll to the ground and continue doing so until she rolled back to her feet. She kept up the strenuous pace for several minutes; her location steadily growing nearer.
She jumped the small gap between the next rooftop, slowed her movement and ducked into a low crouch, then moved silently to the edge of the building and came upon a large gap. The gap, she knew would be Tradestreet, the main artery of Kuril. Tradestreet wound through the entire city all the way from the main gates and eventually led to the Lord of Kuril, Quogold Droverson's estate. It was the way in which the city was friendly to visitors and residents alike. If lost, one could almost always find their way to Tradestreet and from there, be able to locate their destination. The street, at this time of night was almost completely empty except for a few stragglers here and there. She watched as a man and woman walked hand in hand in the direction of the gates happily whispering in each others' ear. She saw a drunken sailor get thrown from one of the nicer taverns and land roughly on his face. The enormous bouncer Krisatris knew as Cruster stood over him menacingly for a few seconds before turning and walking back into the tavern slamming the door behind him. She grinned to herself as she thought of the big man; perhaps she would visit him tomorrow.
Tradestreet held all kinds of shops and curiosities. It was the main market place for the city; during the afternoons the street was large enough to house small stands for merchants who couldn't afford to have stationary shops within the city. In mid afternoon the street would be packed shoulder to shoulder with people, it reminded Krisatris of an army of ants milling about looking for food. Her gaze carried over to the large building standing directly in front of her. Its construction was modest but sturdy, undoubtedly built to withstand the elements rather than awe those who looked on it. The inside, Kris has heard was a different matter, it was as luxurious on that inside as it was plain without. The Grinning Lecher was placed on Tradestreet and almost right in the middle of the city, the large brothel was in a prime location to bring in patrons. The building was multi-layered and was nearly legendary in the Kingdom of Thae. Each level of the brothel was built and furnished according to whichever income level it served; the women followed the same pattern. The first floor was the reception and doubled as the poor man's whorehouse, the decoration was plain and unspectacular. The women on that level were older and not as comely as most men would prefer but they were cheap. Each level, respectively, held more elaborate decorations and prettier and younger women all the way up to the fourth floor. No one other than the nobles and the rich merchants could afford the fourth floor. For a price, a very hefty one, the fourth level women could be rented for an evening if a patron desired company for a party or some other get-together.
Krisatris remained crouched at the edge of the building and watched the entrance to the brothel. Her mark was due to arrive shortly, the changing of the City Guard would come in approximately a quarter hour and her target would arrive shortly after that. Her instructions were clear; she was to kill the target just as he was entering The Grinning Lecher. Everyone was to know where he was killed and it would be easy to figure out why it was done. Krisatris supposed the contract was paid for by a wife angry at her husband for his adultery or possibly a jealous lover. Details on why someone was marked for death were never given to assassins; the reason was no simpler than that they just didn't care.
Her crouch was beginning to grow uncomfortable so Krisatris undid the tie holding her crossbow and set the bow down on in front of her on the building's roof. She carefully removed the single bolt still held in place by the tight leather band at her leg and fitted it into the crossbow. She wound the crank, cocking the weapon and once that was done, pushed her hood back off of her head and maneuvered herself into a prone position. The crossbow was within easy reach for when her mark came into view. The Pathfinder would come for him tonight and Krisatris wondered which of the four afterlives he would be sent to. Comfortable with her position, Krisatris began scrutinizing the streets watching for her mark, it was still early but people refused to always be killed on the assassin's schedule, it would be unfortunate to screw up just because the mark was early. Copyright 2008 Nathan Bittel |
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| Last Updated ( Monday, 10 March 2008 ) |
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