Time to Cash In - I

((Osilon, Karavoss))

--112 YSTR, Present--

The assassin hung, swaying gently in the brisk evening wind. In truth, the temperature was starting to drop now, and his pantless legs were beginning to get cold. The elves responsible for his current and terribly unflattering position had done so at just the right time. A few people pointed and laughed while the sun was still up, but no authorities had bothered to show to let him down, and now that the sun was falling and the light was fading the assassin thought he might be up there all night.

"ARRRGH, those goddamn elves!"

The assassin made another attempt to shake himself free, perhaps he may have been able to grab hold of something and pull himself into a more reasonable or suitable position. No luck. As he felt the uncomfortable pressure of blood rushing to his head, he contemplated screaming, perhaps then he'd disturb someone and they'd see a reason to get him this very instant. He figured the authorities might be his only chance, as the regular citizens didn't seem to be interested in lending a helping hand. The assassin prepared to start screaming at the top of his lungs but halted mid-inhale when he heard someone speak above him.

"How utterly unfortunate."

The voice was cold, but very familiar, it belonged to a man he could have sworn he had heard somewhere before. Interest piqued, the assassin craned his neck to look up and see who this mystery man might have been. Upon laying his eyes on him, they opened wide with surprise.

"It's you! Have you come to-"

"Let you loose? Yes, that is my intention."

The assassin was hopeful, but as he watched the white-haired man draw his sword, his hope faded into sheer panic and fear.

"Wait, what do you mean let me loose?!"

Ponce held his colorless silver sword at the ready, before slashing at the rope. It snapped, and the assassin eyed him in horror as gravity began to take hold. The assassin helplessly covered his face with his arms and braced for the inevitable impact.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO-ooo, what?"

And, all of a sudden, he felt like he was no longer falling, like the gravity pulling him towards the earth had been dispelled somehow. He looked up to see red eyes focused on him, power illuminating them in the dim evening light. Ponce held a hand out, and reached to the assassin not physically, but mentally, enveloping him and lifting him up. He pulled the terrified assassin to safety, and with a disoriented stumble, the assassin fell onto his ass, glad to simply be on solid flooring again.

"How did you-how could you even-"

Ponce smiled at the man's incredulous expression, "Magic, my friend," he lied. His face turned serious as he turned towards the man, engaging him fully with his body language.

"Who did this? I found another one of your group dead in the alley behind us."

The assassin looked to him, surprised at first by the sudden change of temperament, but shook it off and began relaying what he knew, "Well, it looked like a group of people. At first, there were two, this elf and what looked like a human woman with him,"

"What looked like a human?" Ponce repeated, intrigued by the assassin's very particular phrasing.

"Well, I mean, she surely didn't fight like one. We even poisoned her, and then she did...that," most likely referring to the assassin dead in the alley, "I say, if that woman is human, it's only barely."

Ponce nodded, taking in all that he had heard thus far.

"So we're dealing with at least one formidable foe, then? I suppose the forthcoming events will prove rather interesting. Continue."

The assassin nodded and did what he was told.

"Well, she did that and ran away, but I figured she might return and waited to ambush her. Instead, I end up running into the damn elf, and some other elf friend he had with him!"

Ponce looked at the assassin, "So wait, just who was this elf? For what purpose are you all out here for anyway?"

The man looked confused at first, but then realization hit, "Ohhhh, right, you haven't seen them so you wouldn't know. Well, in order to carry out the job you gave us, we, uh, enlisted the help of these two locals. The first was this elven man, and he was supposed to be out getting ingredients for the poison we need, but turns out he was out here on a field day,"

"Interesting, so that would be why you all came out here, to recover this man?"

"Yeah, he was taking too long so some people were sent, including myself. You can see how that turned out."

"Fine then, the other local you were talking about?"

"Yeah, the other was this dwarf woman, a right bitch, that one. The second she says something that isn't an insult, it turns out she's plotting.

"Ah, I have heard from your leader of the dwarf's thorniness, at the very least. And you said you needed these two to craft a poison?"

The assassin nodded, "That's right, and as you might be able to tell, the poison we currently have isn't nearly as reliable as we'll need it to be, so the Dwarf will hopefully mix us up some stronger stuff."

Ponce nodded, his jaw working as his mind did the same, "So that's where we are, then. Right, I need a full description of these three. The supposed human woman as well as both elves."

"Okay...." The assassin started with a slow nod, "Uh, okay, so, the woman, she had light tan skin, dark- I think- brown curled hair down to her higher back, and she has these piercing green eyes. She's a killer, that one. I'd rather fancy a woman like that, you know, if I wasn't afraid she'd try to chop my head off."

"Right, I'm sure when she isn't running men through she's quite elegant. And the elves?"

"Well, the first elf is fair-skinned, shoulder-length black hair. The second is darker, black hair worn tall and flat at the top, and honestly, I've never seen an elf so dark, I think he might be one'a them mixed-bloods or something. And the way he and that other elf were going back and forth to each other, right boils my blood I let some pansies like them get the better of me."

Ponce eyed the man, "Is that unusual to you?"

The man nodded, "Yeah, most elves are white as snow, so yeah, it's definitely strange."

"I wasn't talking abou- right, okay."

The assassin nodded, looking up at Ponce. His red gaze was pointed off somewhere in the distance, the assassin thought he might be eyeing the sunset.

"So, what are you gonna do?"

Ponce looked down to the man, and when he did the assassin regretted earning his gaze.

"I want to ensure the mission I tasked you all is completed. I think I just may have to pay that warehouse of yours a visit."

Another nod from the assassin. Honestly, he wasn't sure why the strange man was this invested in the job. Hell, if he was so hands-on, why didn't he just do it himself? Alas, that wasn't for him to wonder, not to mention he didn't really care, what he really wanted was to go home and get away from this creep on the double. The assassin stood, putting his legs into his pants and tightening them at the waist.

"Well, I guess I'll be on my way back to camp. Meet you there?"

"Sure." Ponce simply said, eyeing the man with an indeciperably blank look on his face.

The assassin nodded, turning away and preparing to leave, when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He froze, eyes wide in shock, and looked down to evaluate what was causing this pain, only to find a colorless blade running him through.

"W-what are you... "

Ponce pulled the blade free, cleansing it of blood with a whipping motion. He then looked upon the pitiful man as he fell to the ground, his red gaze growing blurry as life leaked out of him. The Sorcerer dropped to one knee, returning his blade it's scabbard.

"Thank you for your time. You were... well, you certainly were present, weren't you?"

The assassin raised his trembling hand, gripping onto the Sorcerer's shirt.

"Why?" Was all he had said.

Ponce looked down at him, brows furrowed.

"It's but a necessary precaution. I have no room for mistakes."

Pulling his shirt free, Ponce left the man to bleed, and made his way to the nearby ladder, wordlessly descending to the back street below. He mulled over the new information he had gleamed from the fallen assassin. It seemed this elf had made damn good use of his time to acquire so many allies so quickly. Ponce made a mental note, he would have to keep an eye on these people, lest they get in the way of his plans. With that said and done, the Sorcerer pulled from his side a piece of rolled parchment and unfurled it, revealing mystical scribblings on it. It was a teleportation scroll, and at the start of this day he had possessed three, however only two remained now. They had proven extremely useful in bolstering his mobility, as one would require in order to set in motion so many things and keep tabs on them all. In fact, there was one investment he had recently made that he had yet to cash in on, one that involved a shadowy assassin and a dark book. But, alas, there were more pressing matters to tend to.

Ponce prepared to use the scroll, but before he could think of his desired location, he was interrupted by a twinge of uneasiness. He froze as he felt a presence nearby, there were eyes on him. There was a moment of alarm, but then Ponce remembered the tag-along his master had assigned him, and that alarm soon turned into annoyance.

"I don't particularly require your assistance," Ponce called, before turning and regarding the towering Half-Tor with a frown. He stood at nearly seven feet, and even from a ways away his heavy and intimidating presence was clear to the Sorcerer, not that he personally regarded him as anything more than an oversized lapdog with horns. And thus was his namesake. Ponce once thought Horns primitive, but it soon became clear that he was far wiser than he appeared, and that made him unpredictable. Nothing bothered the Sorcerer more than being forced to allow an unpredictable brute follow him around.

"And I do not particularly desire to give it to you, Sorcerer," The Tor started, a breath of smoke escaping between his tusks and fangs,"but the Being's intentions are clear, not to mention the pay,"

Ponce looked exasperatedly at the horned giant,"So your only motivation is monetary gain, then?"

Horns glared at Ponce, and his gaze was one of white hot flame. His eyes were a milky white void, with a halo of hard, white light superimposed in front, almost holographic in appearance, "We don't all get to be the Being's most prized possession. The rest of us have to scrounge up a living the normal way."

Ponce thought to retort but bit his tongue, finding this discourse absolutely meaningless and a waste of time. He simply turned away and continued down the alley, begrudgingly accepting that Horns would be in tow until he was done with this world. Still, lumbering brute or not, he might prove beneficial in situations requiring a more... forceful touch than he himself was capable of. He had yet to see the Half-Tor in action, though ideally he would never have to.

Ponce's attention returned to his scroll, where the Tor would go concerned him not, he always seemed to catch up anyway. The Sorcerer closed his eyes and an image began to appear in his mind, he could see the walls of the warehouse.

I want to go-

"Sorcerer,"

Ponce's red eyes opened, and he looked up from his scroll to see a swirling mass of blackened shadowy smoke before him, hovering in place a bit above eye level. Ponce looked up at the mass, and realization hit. He reached out into the mass and pulled, and in his hand he held a black book. Ponce looked down at it, and he knew in his hand he held death. The book of Kelmoran. The Mortith. It seemed it was time to cash in.

Ponce looked back to the Half-Tor, who stood nonchalantly against a wall, one foot up and arms folded, and regarded both the Sorcerer and the book with a indifferent glance. Ponce returned his gaze to the Mortith, and saw on it a piece of paper. Enscribed on it was a sentence, Dalen Remnants, bring the crystal. He pulled the piece of paper free and held it in his hand, while the hand with he book stretched out towards Horns.

"Hold on to this for me, I don't know if the man I took it from is involved, but let's not make things too easy for him,"

Horns approached, grabbing the book rather haphazardly and stowing it away. Ponce glared daggers at him, "That book is vitally important you brute, do not mishandle it!"

Horns returned to the wall, and glared back, "It will be safe, " His voice boomed.

Ponce frowned once more, but nodded, looking back down to his scroll. He didn't look to the brute, but said, "I've got things handled. Just hang back."

As the air around him became charged with magical energy, his image became blurry and distorted. The was a final burst of force, and where the Sorcerer once stood was now empty.

"Damn Sorcerer." Horns spat, before leaving the wall and turning away, returning to the darkness from which he came.