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Date Posted: 23:14:52 01/13/02 Sun
Author: Rowan Silvertree
Subject: At least the odds are even now
In reply to: Ravin---Marz 's message, "Finding clothes---ripping off clothes" on 11:55:16 01/13/02 Sun

When Erlic shifted slightly just before speaking, Rowan narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly. He knew from careful observation that Erlic’s movements were subtle, but always calculated. Quickly, he leapt to the conclusion that they were being watched, and the other man sought to use his own body to shield their speech. The temptation to search the surrounding area was immense, but he held back with unusual restraint—a throwback from his old sense of discipline, maybe.

“I have a proposition for you,” Erlic began.

Immediately, Rowan returned his full focus to his companion’s face. No statement could have possibly grabbed and harnessed his attention so well as that one. How many times had he found himself responding to such an inquiry? Secret notes left by contacts, hidden meetings in back alleyways, even an exchange of words with a quick slight of tongue amid an oblivious crowd.

Usually, the proposition involved a break-in of some sort, either for the retrieval of a certain item or the planting of incriminating documents. Rarely did it involve the ultimate theft upon another man or woman’s life—though these tended to pay ten times the gold. And after living on the streets for five years, Rowan had learned to place a lot of value on the amount of coins stowed about his person.

Yet as he listened to Erlic explain the situation, he felt his heart sink painfully to his stomach. He had given his most sincere promise to his sister never to take payment for a life again. The several times since the uprising that he had done so had been hard to live down, if just with himself—for he’d never found the courage to tell her that he’d slipped up more than a couple times. She thought little enough of his thieving abilities to simply brush off the fact that he still practiced the art of professional killing when the right opportunity presented itself.

But of course, this was entirely different, in many ways. It was cold-blooded killing, sure, but no one was going to be paying him for it. Plus, he would be doing it to protect their friends from a very deadly threat. So how come he felt so cautious about it? Been goofing off too much lately, that’s all, he thought, a grin tugging slightly at his mouth. Maybe it was just the fact that Erlic had suddenly shown an interest in his past profession that had sparked his nerves so much.

“Do I make myself clear?” Erlic finally asked, after concluding his brief synopsis of the plan. Rowan nodded without hesitating, still smiling somewhat crookedly. He was definitely looking forward to proving himself to the older man more than he really ought to be.

After asking him if he had any further questions, Erlic went on to say something else, rather out of the blue. Somewhat hesitantly, he added, “I’m a very good thief, and a very good fighter. I’ve done secret jobs before, so I do have some prior experience in this field.”

Got a high opinion of himself, that’s for sure, Rowan thought privately to himself, biting back a chuckle. After expressing such a desire to understand Rowan’s own past, and then suggesting a plan involving the use of very well-honed, specific abilities, he wondered why the man suddenly seemed to stumble over his own dark past—if it was even in the past at all!

Rowan waited a while, somewhat actually deep in thought, before finally responding. He was thinking hard about his sister, and the arguments over the shado way of life they used to have together. He saw Erlic leaning over to touch her hand, kiss her lightly on the cheek…and shook his head slowly.

“Don’t tell her,” he said quietly. “What you do—what you are. She doesn’t need to know.” After a brief pause, he nodded quickly. “I’ll see you at sunset, then.”

Before turning away, he took one small step back and bowed ever so slightly, bringing his hands together so that one flat palm rested over the closed fist of his other hand. It was the greeting one shado warrior gave to the other—signifying the eternal peace between the brothers and sisters of the darkest and most bloody guild in all Elendor.

“May the shadows protect you,” he whispered in elven. Finally, he straightened, threw Erlic a wink, and walked briskly away.

~*~*~*~*~

A little while later, Rowan’s eyes snapped open once again. He stared contemplatively at the tent ceiling right above his head, his head resting behind his hands. He hadn’t indulged in any sort of ritual or even physical preparation. Instead, he’d opted for a light nap, relying on his trained ability to wake up exactly when he wanted to. It was a habit he’d never lost, unlike many others, and was the reason why he often hopped out of bed well before dawn to sniff out what sort of interesting troubles the day had to offer.

He sat up, raking his hair out of his eyes and stared at the door flap. Was he ready for this? There weren’t too many times recently when he’d gone after another professional, especially one who might even be more skilled than him. Perhaps these Nerombians possessed powers gifted to them by their gods, too. What then?

He finally stood up, laughing softly at himself in the evening gloom. And what sort of arts did Erlic profess to rely on? Obviously, if the man thought he were capable enough to accompany him, there was nothing to worry about. Rowan nodded slightly before checking all his weapons and heading out from the tent.

Instead of moving directly toward the rocks where they were to meet, he veered off ever so slightly to the right. As soon as he’d left the clearing of the camp, he immediately tapped into his inner power, delving deep inside himself as he’d once done long ago, so many times before. It was like dipping his hands in icy cold water and trying to draw some up to his mouth, spilling as few precious drops as possible.

Like a silent sigh, the power trickled through, sending a tingling sensation all over his body as he moved. The runes all flared briefly silver before fading into his skin again, an indication that subtle magic was at work. Slowly and silently, he melted into the dark gloom of the scraggly desert forest, his figure becoming no more than a shadow against the trees and rocks, brushing and mingling against the grassy sand dunes.

He was still very physically present, as his booted footsteps would have easily given away—were he not trained to walk lightly. True to what he was, he moved like a shadow, now directly toward the cluster of rocks, where he soon settled down, resting lightly on his heels.

After a few moments, Erlic joined him, moving with his own deadly silence. If that was any indication of the man’s talents, he was better trained than some of the old masters back home! Quickly, Rowan loosed his hold on the power concealing him, making his presence known to his companion—if it had not yet been detected. For he was not truly invisible so much as he was camouflaged with his surroundings, and this was particularly easier to pick out when the observer was staring straight at him, motionless.

“There are only two,” he whispered into the darkness, bending his head toward Erlic. He was sure the man had already discovered as much himself. “They’ve moved to that area over there. One behind the large boulder, the other behind the clump of brush and trees.”

They paused briefly before each selecting their target, then moving off silently in separate directions. Again, Rowan accessed the power, fading him into a mere shadow of his true self. Within seconds, he was not twenty yards away from his opponent, who wasn’t showing any signs of being detected. Feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him, he carefully pulled free one of the long, thin needle-like shuriken from his belt. Lining it up evenly with his middle finger, he folded his other fingers around it with his thumb over the top in one quick gesture, before turning and aiming at his target. He squinted one eye ever so slightly before releasing the subtle weapon with a flick of his upper arm.

Faster than lightning, the crouched assassin jumped to his feet and bolted forward, the shuriken missing by mere inches. Rowan nearly panicked as the man began to close in on him, for he moved with the speed and grace of a viper readying to strike. Just before the assassin was about to hit him head on, Rowan kicked at the nearby tree trunk, vaulting him somewhat upward. He reached out and grabbed for the lowest branch, swinging his body nimbly onto it just as the assassin came to the spot where he’d been standing seconds before. The branch creaked, even under his magically reduced weight, and the black-garbed man from below glanced upward, the eyes peering out from his masked face narrowed slightly.

Rowan held his breath for several long, agonizing seconds until the man looked away again. The assassin crouched down again in his new hiding place, his eyes once again focused on the camp. Apparently, he hadn’t seen Rowan at all, but was simply starting to make his move on his own targets. That means now or never, Rowan thought, wiping at the perspiration on his brow as stealthily as he could.

Slowly, he eased his swords from their sheaths, positioning his body directly above his adversary. Counting silently to three, he then jumped down, landing almost silently behind the assassin. A branch cracked in the night, alerting the man, who immediately tensed. But in the split second before his body whirled around, Rowan brought both swords up and sliced across his neck, not quite decapitating his head from his shoulders.

He grabbed the body before it fell, easing it quietly to the earth. What was he to do with it now? Suppose Erlic was still after his target, and the man should come across the slain body of his friend? Well I sure as hell can’t carry him. Rowan frowned down at the dead assassin, who must have stood at least four or five inches taller than himself.

Deciding that he hadn’t much choice but to leave the poor fool where he currently lay, Rowan returned swiftly to their original meeting place, waiting there, just in case Erlic either returned, or he was signaled for further help.

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