Maiyo's Testing Thread. No posting.

[Servant of Dormin]

_____Ｔｈｅ- Ｗａｎｄｅｒｅｒ-------------♬
_____So we dug us a hole and planted our skin; like a seed in the ground, to grow again.

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[[Maiyo]]

He'd never been fond of these places, but curiosity and desperation led him here. For reasons known only to himself, a one-eyed man entered the front doors of the shop. He tapped his boots against the floor, not wanting track-in dirt during his first (and hopefully last) visit. A silver pipe dangled from his mouth, though he quickly smothered its contents and pocketed it before continuing through the shop. For a brief moment, Evren took notice of the elaborate decor, leaving him to wonder what kind of person the owner was. Their cause couldn't have been so noble if it'd sent him to a business that trafficked human beings.

There was no point of making a fuss over it; he'd seen far worse conditions in similar businesses during the past several months. The swordsman paused near the entrance, his only visible eye scanning the antiques lining the walls, a hint of sympathy echoing in his stare. It troubled him. Why was he feeling sorry for these inanimate objects? The barkeeper from the local pub had directed him here, but hadn't said anything past "there's a pawn shop not far yonder... you should find what you're looking for in that place." The cryptic bit of information concerned Evren, for he'd thought the warning entailed that this place sold slaves, and yet...

No sooner did he hear the voices; what could've been hundreds of them. Startled, the man turned frantically, his eyes wide in shock. There was nobody else here. His hand floated towards the hilt of his sword, an action born mostly out of reflex. All at once, his suspicion turned into an undulating sense of unease. Evren had stumbled into something much more complex than he'd anticipated, and for once, he wasn't sure if he was prepared. With a touch of hesitation in his stride, Evren wandered through the shop, peering cautiously into the back rooms. Was anybody else here, or were there only ghostly echoes?

[[Maiyo]]

▬▬ ✘✘✘ ▬ ✘
████████████ 【ＳＥＮＤ__ＹＯＵＲ__ＡＲＭＩＥＳ 】


At last, the sun's fading warmth left the city. After a long, grueling wait, Alastor watched quietly as the first of his potential targets entered the building. Time was of the essence, and the assassin wasn't about to waste another second. He slid down the entrance of the noble's home, each of his movements fluid and calculated. Alastor clung to an alabaster pillar with ease; a rouge gargoyle. From a slightly lower vantage point, he sighted the weak points in the armor of a nearby guard, whose back was turned. It was without another thought that he dropped to meet the enemy.

The larger man crashed to the ground, a scream still lodged in his dying throat. In mere seconds, Alastor withdrew the blade from the back of his neck and darted from the scene. Even with the fallen guard leaving a direct path open, he did not gain entry through the front doors. The ruckus would soon draw attention towards the front of the castle, loosening security by a small fraction throughout the rest of the building; phase one was complete. His focus on the task at-hand didn't waver, despite the minor success.

Mindlessly, Alastor dashed to the other end of the estate, running at a breakneck pace. Already he could hear the distant outcries over the discovered body; he needed to outrun their confused stupor before they had the chance to regroup. The lord of the castle would be notified of the disturbance in minutes. Alastor scaled another portion of the outside wall before swinging from a horizontally-aligned flagpole, gaining momentum, and diving feet-first through a small window. Fragments of glass sprayed across the room as he rolled to break the fall, and soon regained his footing before the last shattered piece met the floor.

He'd broken into the elaborate elven nest with minimal effort, though the small triumph didn't seem to please him. The blue-eyed beast quickly snaked his way up the spiral staircase, and into the dimly-lit halls of the castle's deeper quarters. It was from behind the safety of a series of intricate sculptures where he was finally able to catch his breath. Now within the heart of dangerous territory, the most important aspect of the situation was to listen to the chaos unfold, and find a means of intervening when defenses were at their weakest. Alastor sidled against the base of a statue, resting the side of his face along its cool surface for comfort. His only good eye wandered up to meet the stony face of an elf-woman, and his stare held for several moments before retreating to his shadowy hiding place.

In his current state of affairs, Alastor viewed her stoic form as a valuable ally. No matter the circumstances, she would keep his whereabouts a secret. By the end of the night, any blood-ties of Raiden's lineage would be voided with his death; Alastor took slight humor in the fact that the statue may have represented a distant ancestor.