[Nexus] MURDER II: Actual Levels of Murder May Vary

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office - Rene]

"Magtok is a well-known public figure, who has many clones at his disposal. It is inadvisable to try and gain information through hostility. He has funds, technology, and backup."

[The Front -> Operative's Office]

John is clearly surprised by the sudden appearance of Sarah, but lets her right through to the proper base.

The secretary that is normally always at her desk is mysteriously absent, if Sarah cares to look. Once she knocks on the door to the Operative's office, she hears the same "Come in" that everyone else does.

[The Mad Hatter]

(Javert tried that....it didn't work very well...)

[Frozen Messiah]

Originally Posted by Rotting Baron

[Operative's Office - Rene]

"Magtok is a well-known public figure, who has many clones at his disposal. It is inadvisable to try and gain information through hostility. He has funds, technology, and backup."

"Who said I was going to be hostile?" and with that and a wink Rene gets up and walks out the door. She walks out of the room and up to the elevator and catches the one that was just left by a tired looking girl, she pays her no mind however. Once she gets inside of the elevator she lets out a deep breath and mutters to herself "Time to get to work." She steps out of the elevator and takes a seat at the bar. "I think I will have that drink with you now, if your not too busy." Rene says to John hoping to see if he has any information on either one of her targets.

[BladeofObliviom]

[Operative's Office - Sarah]

Sarah doesn't even notice that Jane's absent. When she gets focused on something, she takes focus to a whole new level...

In any case, she enters the office, still carrying that grimy book, and speaks.

"When I last reported, I accepted the contract to attempt to separate the lifebond of the sisters Zavi and Ivaz. As it turns out, lifebonds are an obscure, arcane branch of magic, and one only rarely used in modern days. It took long weeks of research to uncover the Grimoire of Severance, which contains the only known surviving ritual that might successfully separate a lifebond without killing the participants in a manner most horrible."

Assuming that nothing totally unusual happens, she flips to page 345 and proceeds to show the contents of the page to the Operative.

To break a bond of life together
Elf's tongue and Ancient Leather
Stirred within an earthen pot
Thick with rime and molten rot

In this brew of Evil old
Blood is spilt of Dragon cold
Taken violently, with force
Quickly, swiftly, without remorse

Sanguimancy, Dark as Sin
Manifests the bond, light and thin
It is then that the line may be cut
And only then that one pair may shut.

"It is not exactly straightforward, but at least the instructions are fairly clear."

...Wait, she's been studying this whole time? Can her player not think of a better excuse for disappearing?

((Note to self: Never write rhyming poetry. Gluh.))

[Rotting Baron]

[The Front]

Rene will get the drink she requested, but John won't answer any questions about Javert. Seems he won't talk about contracts or targets of surveillance in a public place.

[Operative's Office - Sarah]

The Operative looks over the poetry. "Seems simple enough." At this point, he looks at Sarah, and only now notices her malnutrition. "Is there a reason you seem to have starved yourself over your absence?"

[BladeofObliviom]

[Operative's Office - Sarah]

At the comment, Sarah seems to grow just a tad nervous, like there's something she doesn't want to admit. Still, after a moment of hesitation, she comes clean.

"I... ...I've been using magic as a shortcut too often. As you know, Blood Magic requires blood as a material, and using my own is usually conveniently available. Naturally, given the fact that blood serves an important function in keeping me alive, overuse is bad. However, situations often arise where I cannot afford to simply rest and recover normally. I've been using healing magic to replenish myself more quickly, so I do not waste time that could be spent productively."

She sighs.

"It works acceptably over a short period, but healing magic isn't quite the same as proper rest and recuperation. I hate to admit it, but I'm wasting away. It is powerful magic and a useful tool, but it can come at a terrible cost if used carelessly."

And now the awkward ending comes...

"I might need some time off-duty."

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office - Sarah]

Sarah's story doesn't seem to provoke any showing of sympathy from the Operative (big shocker there.) "Self-preservation should be higher on your list of priorities, Ms. Bloodchanter. Take all the time you require to fully recover. There aren't a great many contracts suited for your skill set anyway."

[BladeofObliviom]

[Operative's Office - Sarah]

Nor did she expect a show of sympathy. In truth, Sarah tends towards pragmatism and efficiency over empathy as well. It was kind of a necessity in the conditions she grew up in.

"I shall do that, then. I will see you when I am fit for duty again, I suppose."

She leaves the book behind, unless such is pointed out, in which case she takes it with her.

[Rotting Baron]

[The Operative's Office -> Out]

(Spoilered for length.)

Spoiler

Not long after Sarah had left the office, a subtle change had started. Almost unnoticeable, but over time, the increase in the volume of the dark mist that always radiated off of the Operative's form had become impossible to ignore. It had completely filled the space that formed this room, and was starting to spill into the main lobby. The increase in mist was probably a good thing, though. It was starting to hide certain other happenings for the Operative.

Though he had only barely noticed it before, he now found it difficult to stop looking at his incorporeal hand. Actually, incorporeal was perhaps not perfectly accurate any longer. Though before, the specks appearing throughout his body were merely trivial and confusing, he couldn't deny what was forming, now that the specks had grown into a wiring network. These were the beginnings of a nervous system. The Operative now felt the damp air brushing against these raw nerves. The hard floors against the bottom of his feet. Synapses just barely learning how to fire off. It wasn't a pleasant experience. These new sensations were very painful to someone who had felt nothing for his entire short existence before.

But had his existence been short? Along with the beginnings of a central nervous system, the Operative was also gaining the beginnings of memories. Incredibly vague, though. There was very little about the life that he was starting to learn about. He fought, that was for sure. And he had a name. He had no idea what that name was, but it was definitely a human name. Went well with the vaguely human body that was now painfully forming in place of his ghostly form.

He stood up. It was harder than it had previously been. Every motion was like fire to him. He did not want these sensations. Pain, hardship, but worst of all: inefficiency. He had to find some way to either stop this process, or speed it up so that this could just end.

As he leaves his office, he leaves a psychic message for Doe, whenever she comes back. He didn't know how he did this. Didn't even know he could. The Operative continues further down the base. As he progresses, more of the mist floods across the base. It mostly sticks with the ghost, though.

Eventually, he gets to the escape tunnels. Where was he going to go? Who did he know that might have been able to help him? It was difficult at simultaneously easy for him to figure that one out. So, he leaves the base, heading to some place where even if he can't get help, at least maybe he could get some answers.

[Dark Elf Bard]

Through the front doors a MURDER, there's a new entry.

The doors open, and a hot wind blows through the building. Something evil is here.

A drow male, six feet tall and muscled steps though, armed with a slender saber and an enormous crossbow. Next to him is a female drow, dressed in simple purple robes.


The male steps forward. This the place? Someone wrote on the wall?

[Rotting Baron]

[Main Room]

I'm handwaving the fact that the two drow got through the front, because RPing that is really really boring.

Jane Doe, in her usual disguise, is sitting at the desk in the main lobby. She looks at the two drow in complete nonchalance. "You two looking for membership or to purchase a contract?"

[Dark Elf Bard]

The female speaks, in an icy, condescending voice. Three, actually. A few of her fingers twitch, and smaller, bonier drow lets out a grunt and slowly tenses and stalks into the room. It's clear the female is a bloodbender, taking control of his joints. We need you to kill someone.

[Rotting Baron]

[Main Room]

Jane just smiles in response to the condescending. "Contract negotiations are handled by our leader. He's in that room." She moves her head to indicate the door leading to the Operative's office.

[Lord Magtok]

Kitchen

Some people occasionally need to restock on weaponry. Those people usually to turn a place like the armory here at MURDER. This particular assassin, however, is not one of those people. Every single knife has been taken from the kitchen, every single last one. Even the butter knives, which really aren't the sort of thing you'd try to kill anyone with, and the plastic ones, which probably couldn't draw blood even if an evil god of destruction and chaos was wielding it. If you plan on cutting foodstuffs around here anytime soon, you'll just have to, I dunno, jab it with the edge of a fork or something.

Originally Posted by Sticky Note Left On Freezer

Needed Knives. Took Knives. Left Sufficient Funds For Replacement Cutlery in the Second Drawer From the Bottom, Beneath the Vegemite, Below the Avacado. Funds May or May Not Be Accepted By Most Cutlery Merchants, Due to Lingering Blood Spatter. Recommend MagMart for Cutlery Purchases, No Policy Against Soiled Bills, Franchise Owned by Previous Client.

-What Pumpkin

What, you don't need all of those knives, you have plenty! You have Thor's almighty hammer! Mjolnir itself is tucked away into your coat! What the hell do you need a butter knife for when you've got daggers, axes, railroad spikes, and who knows what else?! Gods, what an inconsiderate jerk!

[Dark Elf Bard]

The female speaks. Tell them of this. The large male drow nods once and teleports away.

Then, the female will follow Jane, and drag the scrawny male with a twitch of her fingers.

[Zefir]

The larg male drow has a problem. In th room appear circle on the walls and on the floor. They seem todrain the whole magic/power which would teleport him. And the teleport fails.

He needs to walk out on himself before teleporting.^^

[Dark Elf Bard]

He does so, and disappears.

[Rotting Baron]

[Main Room -> Operative's Office]

Jane continues her slight smile as the large drow runs into the dimensional barrier before leaving.

The other two drow can get into the Operative's office without any trouble, since it's right there. Inside is just a pretty typical office. The Operative sits behind the desk. Not much of him can actually be seen, though, as he wears a hooded combat uniform and a gas mask. "Who is your target?"

[Dark Elf Bard]

{Operative's Office}

The scrawny male starts to speak, but a twitch of the female's had literally clamps his jaw shut.

My daughter. T'rissylene B'xarenef.Harbored at the local inn called the Sleeping Goblin.

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

The Operative doesn't note the familial relationship between client and target. Drow conflicts are a waste of his time to consider. "And your payment, miss...?"

[Dark Elf Bard]

B'xarenef. She drops a large sack of gems on the table.

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

The Operative doesn't very to look at the sack for long before choosing his next words. "I think someone of a supposedly prolific drow house can afford to part with a little more than this, don't you?" He makes sure to place emphasis on the word 'supposedly.'

[Dark Elf Bard]

Open it. It's a Bag Of Holding, with about four million dollars worth of gems in it.

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

When the Operative does open the bag, he doesn't react to the sight of all those gems, beyond noting that this was enough to keep this place up and running for a year, maybe more. "Tell me what you can of the target. Combat abilities and the like."

[Dark Elf Bard]

None, really. I keep telling that foolish girl to keep faith in the Spider Queen, but she insists on a silly romance with a half-elf. You can leave him alive. The female taps her chin, never breaking eye contact. She has surrounded herself with surface folk, but keep them alive for now. Understood?

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

It'll be pretty hard for the drow to have eye contact with the Operative, given the darkened lenses of his mask. "Your terms are acceptable," he says. "We will leave the uninvolved alive if we can."

[Dark Elf Bard]

Office

The drow lady sneers. You will leave them alive, or I will level the building.

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

The masked man doesn't react much to the sneer. "We will leave them alive. And you will make no further threats to my organization."

[Dark Elf Bard]

Good. I like professionals. She smiles seductively.

Nowthen. Who is on the assassination team?

[Rotting Baron]

[Operative's Office]

"It is for the best that I not tell you who I will send after your target. Rest assured, the entirety of our membership is professional, and will kill your target with no collateral damage," the Operative says, with no change in his voice or demeanor.