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8
2 damage!
N/A

A gasp of air released from Aandes in a shuddering rasp as the deep pain erupted in his side. Rasali was going to kill him if this didn't. His lip twitched into a small smile. He was outmatched in this fight. If the thief could take time to flaunt and posture, so could he.

"I'd rather keep this professional as well..." Aandes choked out. One hand clutched his side to pull out the knife and staunch the bleeding, while the other quickly rose to tear off the culprit's mask. "I hate to leave scratches on such a handsome face, but I really insist on knowing who's about to kill me." Aandes muttered, nails tearing into Vulpin. His teeth were gritted through the sting of the blow. Thank gog for layers or he may have pierced an organ.

5
2 damage
0 charges left

All Aandes thought of doing was memorizing the face of the troll. Or should he say, the orangeblood. Unfortunately, that left him open to attack.

"Hhng!" Aandes toppled and lost his balance. Instinctively, he grabbed onto the wrist of the thief to hold onto something - anything! It just so happened to be a reasonably successful defensive move. With any luck he'd shorten his fall or at least cushion it with his newfound friend.

3
2 damage
0 charges left

The two fell ungracefully off the (thankfully) low rooftop, and with even more luck landed in a tall hedge. With their momentum they plunged through the leaves and branches, and Aandes let out a pained yelp as he hit the thick boughs near the ground. Finally, they came to rest. Aandes' hand slipped off of Vulpin's in his daze. There was no point in continuing to fight or subdue him now, but he refused to admit defeat. Aandes wound his fingers around the handle of the briefcase and hoped that the orangeblood wasn't quick enough to slice them all off in one fell swoop. He just needed a moment, that was all.

((SAVING THROW))

Aandes fell to the ground without any resistance. Okay, so he’d lost the fight. That was a given. He felt his abdomen clenching against the shallow knife wound that threatened to open and re-open again at every brutal nudge that this thief had provided. He closed his eyes tight for a moment, letting all of the pain out of him in one whooshing hiss as he collected himself. This is what you want, Aandes. If you didn’t make that stupid move, he wouldn’t still be preening and posturing right above you. Aandes read Vulpin from his first smile. The quirk of the lip and the repartee… Not only upon his exit, but upon the shanking that the greenblood had received. There was something in this idiotic chase for Aandes, and somehow he’d known it from the start. He cleared his throat.

“Ah. Well, it’s clear you’re better at fighting than I am. So bravo on that.” Aandes twitched below Vulpin, eyeing him up and down. “But you’re actually quite wrong about that. In fact, uncovering your identity was a fabulous move on both of our parts. My name is Aandes LaMode, and I am an exceptionally well-known producer and benefactor of Four Fronds. In your crowd you may not be familiar with my current work heading up Shrad: The Musical, but I digress. Let me remind you of a few of the many good reasons why you shouldn’t slit my throat.”

Aandes was talking at a fast clip, but his words were as clear and punctuated as a typewriter. He couldn’t afford to bore the thief into cutting his neck, or make him believe he was in a hurry or some such.

“First: As a person of interest and as the mental health sponsor of a rehabilitation patient of the ex-rebel variety, I am under constant surveillance. I believe a troll of your nature can connect those dots. Second and to reinforce the first point, the evidence of my uncovering your identity exists in the blood that you have spilled as well as my own, so any effort by forensic trolls would not matter to me I suppose post-mortem, but quite harmful to you as a short-lived burglar. This in turn would cement you as the clear culprit towards the crime of offing a well-established and fondly looked upon greenblood, which unfortunately has some matter of consequence for you. Third, I have no interest in stopping you in your current endeavor. In fact, I hope you’re paid richly for it considering all the trouble it’s caused you. I didn’t follow you to my obvious demise because I intended to prove some false sense of justice, and I do hope you understand that my stumbling upon you was not a matter of coincidence, but a matter of like-mindedness between us. And finally, a point I hope you find to be highly convincing…”

Aandes struggled to reach into his pocket very slowly, as to not aggravate his execution. He pulled out a small, rectangular card. It was cream and mint, partially from the green ink originally in the paper but with a small spatter of blood from Aandes’ recent wound. “As a high-profile producer in entertainment, my budget is limitless, and as someone working on a metaphorical tightrope in dealing with rebel PR, I pride myself in subtlety, stability and invisibility. Considering my actions tonight I’m sure that subtlety comes into question, but I suppose it’s a fair match for your appreciation of dramatics. I’d prefer to hire you than for you to kill me, after all.”

“Good.” Aandes breathed out heavily as Vulpin stood up in front of him, his eyes flickering from the troll’s heels up. He allowed Vulpin to assist him to his feet, wincing as his abdomen clenched upon his rising. He took off his jacket and vest to check the wound. The faint stain of his blood darkened his crisp shirt, ruined by the thin slice of Vulpin’s dagger. He frowned and sighed. Goddamn stab wounds. Funny thing, Alternia. One minute you’re in hot pursuit and getting shanked and the next you’re networking – no, flirting – with your attacker. Aandes may have felt a tinge of blackness in his bloodpusher if he was not so impressed by the way this troll carried himself.

“I have a policy of refusing work with any fringe groups, but this particular case is an ex-rebel with a nice face looking to make it big. It’s a challenge, but it pays. It pays very, very well.” Aandes explained, the corners of his lip quirking.

The light touch from the thief caused Aandes to pause. Vulpin paid Aandes a compliment and then some. A coy sneer curled across his face, roused by the gesture. He was in no position to reciprocate physically, taking the passive road so as to not aggravate any action from the orangeblood. The thief should feel comfort in his victory. Aandes’ would come later. “Same to you,” Aandes purred. “I don’t want to keep you, so I’ll assume you’ll be in touch. Is there a name you like to be called, darling?”

Aandes finally let himself flush. He was entirely unused to other trolls handling him this way in public. Well, he supposed the hedges on the side of the building weren’t quite public. The thief – V – pulled away. “Perfect. Looking forward to it.”

His words were clipped and brief. Aandes’ adrenaline had worn off, and his side ached and stabbed. Now that he was visibly missing from the party (and now that there was clear evidence of a break-in), he had no choice but to go back inside. Aandes put on his vest and jacket, tucking his tie in with a clearing of his throat. “I’ll be going back in after you leave and reporting the break-in, of course. Fortunately, I have the information on some potential suspects that have wronged our honored guest in the past. There’s no chance you’ll be implicated. Have a good evening, V.”

The greenblood began to dust himself off and then recognized that a better cover was total dishevelment. As much as he hated it, he’d have to keep the sticks in his hair to make a good cover of bursting back into the mansion in a harried panic. As undignified as it was, Aandes had suffered worse this evening.