Out in Force (Asgar // Daran)

[Angmor]

Taraak was sometimes surprised about how the world of spying was rather one-track. If your cover was compromised, you had to run. If a new source of intel opened up, you did your best to recruit them. If someone had information you needed, you attempted to buy it. There was no questions about it, that was simply how it was done. But, he reflected with just a hint of a smile, it was in the application where it got interesting. Today would be an exercise in that fact.

About a week after his exploits at the battle of Feinster, Taraak had been back on assignment again. After the Varden's latest victory, they wanted someone experienced on hand within the imperial capital do deal with any escalating situations that might arise. And Taraak's immediate superiors thought it was high time that someone deal with an annoyance that had been a thorn in their collective sides for several months.
Over that time, several Varden underground members within the city had reported that their activities had somehow been detected by their landlord, an intermediately wealthy man by the name of Kenth Halvar. The man had immediately started charging them with ludicrously high renting fees, with the implication that he would turn them in to the authorities if they did not pay.
Another automatic decision in the spying world; if someone is blackmailing your side, that someone needed to die.
It would appear however, that Halvar knew it.

Upon the start of his blackmail, he had immediately hired twelve of the strongest, meanest, most distinguished mercenaries he could find to accompany him wherever he went, which was bad news for Taraak. A man surrounded by suspicious bodies could not be casually knifed in a crowded street, and a bowshot from a high vantage had only a limited chance of success. And so, Taraak and the underground would have been forced to try something more risky, if it was not for the fact that Halvar's wife was a supporter of the Varden cause, and at the same time hated her husband's guts. Even enough to betray him to his death.
That settles it.

[/Color] Taraak thought to himself as he trudged through the chilly morning streets of the city, wrapping his thick cloak tighter around himself. If you want to prolong your lifespan, taking an arranged marriage is not the way to do it.[/Color]

A few moments later, he reached the prearranged street where he was to meet his contact, a modest housing district on the eastern side of the city. As he made his way forward, he took his hood off his head and wrapped a faded red scarf around his neck, as he was instructed.
“Don’t try to find them.” His superior had said.
“He’ll find you.”
"Who will find me, exactly? Why do I need a contact."
The man winced visibly.
"An elven mage. He'll be providing magic support. Trust me, you'll need it."
"I doubt it, sir." He'd responded. "I doubt it."
He hoped desperately that it wasn't some self-confident prick who would try to score points by sneaking up on him. Breaking his contact’s fingers would not be a good way to start this mission… His eyes darted to the left as a cloaked figure detached itself from the wall of a house, falling into step beside him...[/size][/blockquote]

[asgar]

The streets of Uru'baen were full of citizens of the empire going about their daily business the city was full of movment and it seemed no one was able to stay still for longer than a few seconds before they darted off into the other direction carrying a basket of fruit in their arms. Guards were posted all over the city all with the emblem of the empire branded on their shields and chests. They were an imposing sight and it was no wonder that they were able to keep order in a place where so many traitors lived. Asgar hated the city. It was the opposite in every conceivable way to Du Weldenvarden. Instead of living trees the humans lived in lifeless stone where people sang in the most beautiful language ever created humans were in rags begging for money to feed their families. If he had not been ordered to meet a human in the city then he would never of stepped foot in the black fortress. Asgar shielded his mind from everyone. He doubted any human spellcaster, excluding the riders, would be able to break his barriers. He wore a green cloak, that he had covered in dirt to make it look less rich. It was made from the finest silk and a gift from an old friend. Asgar noticed how much warmer it was than in Du Weldenvarden, the one thing he was happy about since entering the city.

To hide the fact he was an Elf had had cast numerous spells on his body, mainly his face. His pointed ears had become rounded and his cat-like face had took on a human shape. His slit eyes had become oval. All in all he thought he looked terrible but he would do anything he could to help the Varden. His only weapon was his hand and a half sword. In the pommel was a single emerald that was the sized of a clenched fist. He had made sure his weapon was tucked in his cloak before heading south. Although he was sure he would not be spotted he had kept to the alley's to make sure. They were narrow and cobbled. His mind drifted to the man who had ordered him to travel to Ilirea. The Elf was an elderly man, even by their standards, and one of the generals of the Elven Army. No one knew his real age but he was suspected to be one of the oldest living Elves, he had seen them before they bonded with the Dragons. He had told him he would meet a human male, he did not give a name or description, and he had no way tor recognize him. He was also told he was to offer magical assistance while he attempted to Assassinate another human, Asgar did not catch his name.

Asgar was known as an unorthodox Elf. He was a straight to the point Elf and would prefer to talk bluntly than in riddles. Although he did stick to many of the old traditions, like vegetarianism and meditation, but he was born in war and he was born for it. He was larger built than most Elves but still had an air of grace about him, even in his semi human form. He often his hood over his head as he passed a group of four human solders. He knew they had no choice to serve the king, they had to swear fealty to him in the ancient language, and he would hate to have to fight and kill them due to the fact. Making sure he would be able to pull back with a moments notice Asgar extended his mind. He began to touch people around him ever so gently. He was sure the Varden Human would have some training in the defense of the mind and Asgar was sure he would be able to gleam some information about him,.though all he wanted to now was if he was a member of the Varden.

He saw a human male who looked slightly out of place. Most would not notice it but Asgar was trained for such things. When he touched his mind it was shielded and he knew he had noticed him. He also knew the training belonged to someone in the varden. He walked up to the human and whispered so only the two could hear. " Eka aí fric." I am a friend. As he said it in his native lounge he could not of lied, he just wondered if the human understood him.

[Kite]

*Daran strolls into the compound of Kenth Halvar, the latest rich idiot to buy his services. There are a couple important things he notices when he slips into the compound. He notices that there are guards around the compound, about eight of them, and there are two more resting in the courtyard. Another thing is that Daran recognizes... just about all of them, which surprises him slightly. Maybe this guy isn't as stupid as the rest of them. At least he hires high quality, high profile aid. Most of these men are men of renown... He thinks to himself. Of course, I'm the best here, but that is no surprise, is it? Well... Not to ME anyway.

Daran smirks as he walks up to the two resting and they stare at him, then get up. The first o ne up walks toward Daran and yells*

What the hell are you doing here, Daran!? And whats with the robe? What are you, a priest come to bless our client?

*Daran smirks and points at him, laughing, then speaks up*

Your client, Serj? Your client? Tell me, does anyone here know who the leader is on this expedition? It would have told you if it was you.

*Daran looks up and taps his temple thoughtfully, then, as if a lightbulb came on, he looks back down*

Oh right! Thats because it told ME that I'm the leader. So sit down, Serj.


*The other man, one that Daran didn't know, laughs and puts a hand on Serj's shoulder, speaking in a smooth, vibrant voice*

Sit down, Serj! He has you, I'm sorry.

*Serj twitches, then goes back to his spot, while the unidentified man walks up to Daran, holding his hand out to shake Daran's. Daran shakes it, and as he does the man speaks.*

My name is Zao Talan.

I am Daran Vorandeer...

*Daran gets a strange feeling from Zao, one that he has come to associate with mages. He clears his mind of all but his sister, thinking about her, memories years old, so that he can resist Zao if he pushes. Zao notices this and smiles*

I see that you have ran into magicians before... Quite good of you to know how to shut down your mind.

I don't appriciate... Intrusions into my mind. People intrude on my thoughts, and others will die. However, this is not a concern of this moment. I need you to remain open for contact, to passively "scan" for other mages... It is important with this man.

*Zao nods*

As ordered, sir.

*Daran ignores Zao's tone, and walks into the compound. He finds a servant, and asks*

Where is Kenth Halvar?

Who are you?

*Daran responds, rather annoyed*

I am the damn mercenary that he hired to lead these fools! Tell me where he is!

Down that hall, on the left!

*Daran stalks down the hall, leaving the servant a little shaken. He slips into the room indicated, and sees Kenth, as well as the mercenary guard behind him, who is a well known bodyguard named Shevu. Daran stands infront of Kenth*

Daran Vorandeer at your service, Kenth. What do you need us to do?

*Kenth stands and looks at Daran, slightly pissed off*

I was told your the best, and you don't know what you have to do? You imbeciles are supposed to guard me. Wherever i go.

*He sits back down and reclines in his chair. Daran is extremely annoyed now, but is hiding it with ease.*

I plan on going out to the Market later today so, until then, get things organized and protect me.

Yes, sir.

*Daran nods his head to Kenth, and to Shevu, then slips back out to Serj and Zao, realizing why they were fairly pissy.*

His "highness" decides that he wishes to go out earlier, so get some rest. We're all leaving with him. Including the watchmen.

*They both nod*

Whatever...

Mk

*Daran goes to an area of the garden, and begins to practice with his sword, and clearing his mind at the same time, to stretch out, get ready, and get some practice in fighting like this...*

[Angmor]

As the figure approached, Taraak's trained defenses were lightly probed by a presence that, while not invasive, was definitely looking for something. Without breaking stride, he locked his storehouse of memories down tight, letting the presence know that if it wnted in, it would have to try harder than that. He doubted it would go any further than that, though. Imperial intelligence agents would never be stupid enough to simply walk up to a target and risk a knife in the ribs just to make a point. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed as the cloaked figure spoke.
"Eka aí fric."
It was unmistakably the Ancient Language. In his childhood, the first thing his trainers had done upon arriving in Spearshadow was to test his aptitude in magic. The very instant it was learned that he had none, his education was never to include the Ancient Language, and he had never seemed to have the time or the will to learn.
Now, from memories of others speaking it in bits and pieces over the years, he understood the first two words. But for all that, it could have translated "I am a pastry" for all he cared. It had to be his muscleman. Anyone willing to greet anyone in that language in the middle of the Empire was either fatally stupid, or an elven mage. One and the same, possibly.
"You will do well not to use that language here. Not until the time comes." He responded in a low voice, giving no sign that he knew of his partner's existence. “Follow me. But drop back between six and ten yards at all times, and never look directly at me.” With that, he quickened his stride just slightly, replacing the hood on his head.
Stepping from the road, he began to lead the way through the back alleys and shaded underlevels of the city. He never once looked back.

. . .

“About a hundred yards up that road lives our target.” Taraak said, pointing. “Luckily, the plan is such that we won’t actually need to enter his home. That would be difficult, if not suicidal.”
Taraak had been surprised when he had entered the deserted alleyway that the elf had been directly behind him, not even breathing hard at the merry chase on which he had been led. That had seemed just slightly wrong on some level, but he had put it aside. He was explaining the general outline of the operation, pointing at the terrain features of interest.
Kenth Halvar lived on a street that the local slang had named richgates. These were streets that were a walled turn around at one end, and ornate, wrought iron gate at the other. On either side of these streets were lavish houses of the rich and important, safe from the beggars and other undesirables. It was directly opposite one of these richgates that Taraak and the elf had stationed themselves.
“Now, one thing I must ask before I go any further,” Taraak said, turning to the elf. “I have to know, do you have the constitution to kill? I assume you’ve been in combat…” He tapped the hilt of the long hand-and-a-half strapped to the elf’s waist. “But this will be somewhat different. Can you bring yourself to killing someone who isn’t trying to kill you, or have any intention of killing you, and quite possibly isn’t even armed?”

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