Agent

Agent

                It was two weeks before Tadyel was given a new task. During that time, she spent almost every waking hour learning the basics of a 'general clothier'. During hours she'd have preferred to spend asleep she learnt the basics of combat - the very, very basics. Tadyel was shocked to by exactly how much there was to learn (and how hard it was to master seemingly simple actions).

                Despite each day being packed to (and beyond) the brim, she still managed to spend some time further familiarising herself with the town. The layout of the whole town was becoming vaguely familiar to her. Vanna had said it was important, and Tadyel was quite grateful for the opportunity to check out all the shops. She'd had bread, and rarely other pastries, but a bakery? Most of what she'd eaten over the past two weeks she'd never had the opportunity to eat before.

                It was fantastic - and it was all underscored by the refugees who wandered into town almost every day. Unlike Tadyel's group, who had crossed most of the desert unscathed, most others had lost many as they crossed. They were starving, dehydrated and exhausted. Kind souls gave them food in exchange for what little they carried to trade, or even for nothing at all. Most stayed a handful of days, then continued on to the north or east. On average a dozen refugees arrived each day - an incredible number, given that Green Creek was one of the most out of the way destinations.

                When the task finally came, Tadyel was surprised. Two weeks and she had to kill again? Without their leader, Ormgus's followers had done little - they talked to any new arrivals, but there had been no speeches since Ormgus's death. Yet they were the target. A small group of them were training in combat each night a short distance from town. Vanna suggested that it had been kept secret to prevent the townspeople from becoming worried.

                The trainer of group was the target, although the order given was to eliminate as many of the group as possible. Vanna's information said that there were only five trainees, so in addition to Tadyel and (surprisingly) Vanna, three other 'agents' would be assisting.

                "They're untrained refugees. They received the same offer you did," Vanna had said. "And don't speak during the mission; things might go south if they can identify us."

                "Got it," Tadyel had responded.

                Two days later, Tadyel and Vanna made their way out of town, changed, and headed to the meeting point Vanna had chosen. They wore 'anonymity gear' - a full covering of dark cloth, concealing their faces and other clothing. The rest of the 'agents' had been given their own and instructions to wear them. They gear would prevent them being identified by their enemies, and combined with instructions to keep silent would ensure they could not identify one another, either.

                Vanna and Tadyel arrived in the chosen point to find one of the other agents already there. He was a huge man; with the kind of build that yells 'unstoppable'. He had a sword sheathed around his waist, identical to the blades the two women were carrying. He waved as they approached, but did nothing else.

                Only a short time was spent waiting in silence before a fourth agent joined them, and shortly after a fifth. The fourth was a rather diminutive in stature man, the fifth a fairly average woman - almost a mid-point between Vanna's litheness and Tadyel's stockiness. In addition to their swords, the fourth and fifth agents carried crossbows.

                As soon as the fifth agent joined them they began moving towards the training location. The orders Vanna had given them (and related to Tadyel) were quite explicit - wait until there are five of you, then head to the training site. Distract them with the crossbows then move in to eliminate their leader. Kill them all if possible. Deal with any wounds, then split up.

                It wasn't far to the clearing the training was taking place in. The group stopped short of the clearing, peering in from the tree line. In daylight they would have had difficulty hiding, but at night - and with bright torches interfering with the night-sight of the trainees - they were almost impossible to spot.

                The trainer was walking his trainees through a basic unarmed combat drill. Tadyel vaguely recognised the style - it was similar to what Vanna had been teaching her for the past two weeks. Only two of the trainees seemed to have the hang of it; the other three seemed clueless. They can't have been training long, Tadyel thought. The trainees each had spears, although the trainer bore a mace at his belt.

                Vanna tapped each of the agents on the shoulder and outlined a plan in the dirt. The crossbows would prepare a shot at the trainees while the other three agents swung around behind. Once everyone was in place, the crossbow shots would distract the trainees (assuming they hit) and give the other agents the opportunity to strike from behind.

                The other four agents nodded their understanding. The pair with crossbows began taking aim and the other three made their way around the clearing, reaching the opposite side without incident. Inside the clearing, the trainer had moved on to another drill. It was one Tadyel didn't recognise at all. She briefly wondered whether it was a different fighting style, then noticed that the trainees had picked up their spears (Vanna had only trained Tadyel in sword-fighting and some unarmed combat, so far).

                During the brief pause in movement, as they waited for the crossbows to fire, Tadyel realised that her heart was pounding. She knew why. She'd avoided thinking about it up until then. She was about to be in a fight that probably wouldn't end until one side or the other were dead. It was unlikely that her side would lose, but... She might die tonight. It reminded her of the times she'd nearly been caught hiding food, but death scared her a lot more than the whip.

                I never got caught. I won't die tonight, she thought. She took a deep breath -

                One of the trainees screamed in pain. Tadyel realised that she'd just barely caught the twangs of the crossbows releasing above the sounds their targets were making. As the trainee screamed, one of the others fell to the ground lifeless. One of the trainees shouted, "Attack!" Another, "Ambush!"

                "Rush them!" shouted their trainer, rushing towards the source of the bolts. Two of the trainees followed, and the other two moved to help their comrades.

                With the distraction in play, Vanna, Tadyel and the other agent ran forwards from their hiding place in silence. Vanna and Tadyel had their blades drawn (Tadyel realised now why 'running with swords' was the first thing she had been taught), and Vanna sunk hers into an unaware target's back as he held his dead comrade.

                The other two trainees turned to fight Tadyel and her nameless fellow. Two men, one standing unsteady on his feet with a bolt embedded in his thigh. "Take the injured one," said Tadyel's fellow agent, machismo strong in his voice. Tadyel sighed internally, but nodded.

                With her blade held forwards, Tadyel circled around the injured trainee. He grimaced as he was forced to turn. The spear he held looked like a Thrath spear - probably brought with the refugees. Tadyel's group had possessed several, amongst other weapons. In truth, it was just an ordinary spear, though painted (or in some cases seared) black.

                Tadyel closed in, eliciting a half-hearted warding motion from the man's spear. She took another step and swung her sword. It slammed into the man's spear, knocking it off its deadly course. Despite his injury, the man brought his spear back up very fast - and right into Tadyel's free hand. She pulled.

                The man, unable to keep his footwork with one leg injured, gasped in pain and fell forwards. He didn't let go of the spear, which gave Tadyel the opportunity to stick her sword into the base of his throat.

                She did so. A few half-hearted gurgles later the man went limp. Tadyel pulled her blade free, and looked over the rest of the battle. Her compatriot was doing alright, although he had traded light scratches with his opponent. Vanna was at the far end of the clearing, fighting the trainer and one of the trainees. One of the crossbow agents was missing - the shorter guy - but the other was facing down the final trainee.

                While Tadyel was checking out the situation, she saw the trainer cut deeply into Vanna's free arm. Vanna let loose an exceptionally loud, pained curse after the hit. Oh shit, thought Tadyel. Her dying was bad, but Vanna dying? That might easily be just as bad for her... And would probably be worse for her people.

                Leaving her comrade to fend for himself, Tadyel rushed through the clearing to Vanna's aid. Seeing Tadyel coming, Vanna positioned herself at the clearing's edge.

                "Distract them while I flee!" yelled the trainer, to nods from his trainees.

                The one helping him fight Vanna barely spotted Tadyel before a sword slid up her the inside of her rib cage. The woman gurgled futilely as she collapsed, dragging Tadyel's sword down with her.

                "Damn it!" yelled the trainer, glancing around. Seeing an opening, he started to run. Vanna pointed at Tadyel, then at the final trainee. Tadyel nodded immediately, and Vanna took off after the trainer.

                Tadyel joined the fight against one of the last trainees just as the female crossbow agent cut the man's hand open. He dropped his spear with a yelp of pain then turned to run - only for the agent to slice deeply into his calf. Tadyel stood back as her fellow agent finished the man off. A glance behind her showed that the last trainee had been dispatched as well.

                From the direction Vanna and the trainer had run off in their came a yelp of pain. After a shared glance, the three agents ran towards it. As they left the clearing Tadyel noticed that the other crossbow agent was dead - his skull caved by the trainer's mace.

                Out in the woods they made a far less grisly discovery. Vanna stood victorious over the trainer's corpse, cleaning her blade on his clothes. Tadyel thought of doing the same, but then set her blade down so she could tend to Vanna's wound instead. Vanna sat down and nodded her acquiescence once she figured out what Tadyel was up to.

                The other two agents cleaned their weapons as Tadyel dealt with Vanna's wound. Just as she finished, the man spoke again. "Hey, you - injured woman. You're the boss, aren't you," he said.

                Vanna sat up, and Tadyel cleaned her blade slowly. "Listen," the man continued, "Either you speak and you aren't, or you keep silent and you are. Or you speak and you are, I guess, hah!"

                "What are you thinking?" asked the crossbow woman.

                The man looked over at her, then back to Vanna. "Well, I'm guessing that it was known boss-lady here might not make it back. So they have to have some kind of other way to contact us, in case she died today. I reckon we tie her up somewhere and pretend she died, then turn her in to Ormgus's group once our people are released," the man said. "That'll really stick it to the bastards."

                The crossbow woman seemed to be mulling over the decision. Tadyel wasn't tempted - she was already in too deep. "I don't think that kind of betrayal is a good idea," Tadyel said. Vanna glanced towards her - Tadyel got the feeling she was irritated.

                "Really?" asked the man, sarcastically. "I feel SO BAD about betraying the guys that KIDNAPPED US and made us KILL PEOPLE!"

                "I've got to agree with him there," said the crossbow woman. "Sticking to those bastards sounds too good to pass up."

                Tadyel rose to her feet. "No," she said.

                The man tore off the piece of cloth covering his face and glared at Tadyel. "You arrived with her, didn't you? You're another one of their proper agents," he said, his voice now dripping aggression.

                "I doubt it," said the crossbow woman as she removed her mask as well. "She has a peninsula accent."

                With both their faces revealed, Tadyel realised that she recognised them - they had both been among the refugees who had arrived in Green Creek over the past two weeks. Tadyel removed her mask as well, stuffing it in her pocket, then drew her sword. "Last warning," she said.

                "Warning? Prepare to die, turncoat!" yelled the man, drawing his blade and starting to lunge forwards.

                Tadyel drew her sword as well, but it was Vanna's blade that stopped the man's attack mid-swing. "Take the other one!" Vanna spat out.

                Following Vanna's order Tadyel stepped back and turned towards the crossbow agent. The woman had tossed her crossbow aside and stood with her blade drawn. Tadyel advanced cautiously with her own blade held at the ready. "I recognise you," said her opponent, "You're the clothier's assistant. I guess that makes her the clothier."

                Tadyel kept her eyes on her opponent. "Your boss is injured, idiot, this isn't going to-" the woman began, interrupted by Tadyel darting forwards and striking. She managed to block the attack, but only barely.

                She really is stalling, thought Tadyel. The woman had seemed rather hesitant to attack; almost as if she was stalling to avoid the fight. Idiot.

                Clangs rang out as she struck twice more, her opponent instinctively defending as best she could. Unfortunately for the woman, instincts were not enough to defend against someone with training - even one with as little as Tadyel had. A particularly tricky move (in truth, a basic technique Vanna had taught Tadyel) forced the woman off balance; giving Tadyel the opportunity to push her over with a rough shove.

                "Shit!" yelled the woman as she toppled. Tadyel was on her immediately, blade pressed against her gut.

                "Drop the sword," said Tadyel, quite aggressively. The woman complied immediately.

                Behind her, Tadyel heard the man grunt in pain. It was followed by a thump, and sounds of someone light on their feet moving up behind her.

                "Kill her," came Vanna's voice.

                Before the crossbow woman even had a chance to speak Tadyel had buried her sword up to the hilt. "Sorry," Tadyel whispered. She was unable to rip her eyes away as the woman twitched lightly, then became still.

                The deed done, Tadyel pulled her blade free, then wiped the blood off on the clothes of her fallen opponent. Sighing deeply she turned around to face Vanna. Her superior hadn't been injured further fighting against the other rebellious agent, although her wounded arm was hanging limply.

                As Tadyel sheathed her sword, Vanna said, "That's why we were keeping silent. Come on. We'll change back on the way."

                Vanna headed off into the woods, Tadyel following close behind. That went... far worse than I thought it would, Tadyel thought. Apart from that she wasn't sure what to think. No, there was one tiny thought. Three.

Wandering Eastward - Passing By

Wandering Eastward - Passing By

                Although distracted by her thoughts, Soff still found time to enjoy the countryside. Only a handful of stars were in the sky at this time of year; or 'objects', as she had been taught. There were living stars that sometimes wandered through the sky, shining their radiance down upon those living below. But they were rare, and Soff was reasonably sure the count was right.

                Twenty-three, she thought. And in this month that's... Just right. She stared upwards at the 'objects'. Some were large chunks of land blasted into space, others were stations crafted by ancient peoples. She had been taught that all dated to the portal era, as the portal-makers had never seen the purpose of settling space.

                Each object reflected the light of the sun, and many were quite large. Together they lit up the night enough for Soff to see the road and a little beyond. Further out she could only see the silhouettes of the trees and hills they passed. Despite lacking detail, it was still quite wondrous.

                In the early hours of the morning Taoten decided to talk Soff through another lesson about the wyrm-gift. The lesson focused on focusing the power; allowing for a greater force to strike a smaller area. Soff knocked some rocks about as they went, channelling the power through her feet. Seeing her do so had prompted Taoten to say, "I once had a student who never realised that was possible." It made Soff chuckle.

                Two hours into the lesson Taoten fell completely silent mid-sentence. "What is it?" asked Soff.

                "Up ahead," said Taoten, motioning. "A coach. A rich passenger seems most likely, but I am making an assumption. We may face questions from the coachman. I would rather avoid conflict, but if he catches on to what we are-"

                "Coachmen aren't inquisitors, even here. We'll be fine," said Soff. She rolled her eyes. Up ahead, she could just barely see what Taoten was talking about - a faint blob shaped like a coach. Listening carefully she could just barely hear the faint clack of the vehicle's wheels.

                "Just remember not to knock any rocks about as we approach - your eyes might spook them," said Taoten.

                Soff hadn't actually thought of that, although she hadn't been planning to send rocks flying anyway. "Alright," she replied.

                They drew closer to the coach in silence, moving to the left side of the road so the coach could pass easily. If they were lucky, the coachman would not bother to hail them at all.

                Unfortunately, while still quite distant, the coachman raised an arm and waved. Soff waved back, and said, "Just wave" to Taoten when he did not.

                "Very well," said Taoten, waving in the same manner.

                Now that it was closer, Soff could make out the details of the coach. It was big enough to hold a large family and was drawn by a team of four horses. A coachwoman sat at the front holding the reins, her black uniform starkly contrasting the pale white of the coach itself. Soff could barely see the coachwoman's face, but Soff felt she was a friendly - possibly even boisterous - sort.

                "Hail!" came the coachwoman's greeting as they drew closer. "I'm Meled of the White Coach, which you can see behind me." The coachwoman drew back on her reins, and pulled the coach up beside them. Soff and Taoten stopped as well, politely. It felt kind of strange to completely stop moving to Soff, after so much walking.

                "Hello Meled, I'm Soff," said Soff. She smiled.

                "Taoten," said Taoten.

                "You're up earlier for people walking the road," said Meled. "In a rush to something?"

                "No," said Taoten.

                "We're enjoying the starlight," added Soff. She felt an urge glare - or otherwise prod - Taoten, but resisted. That would be a little too suss.

                "The road is quite lovely at this time of year. Myself, I've been up all night. I'm picking up a senator and his family, and it's all a big rush to get them to some meeting or other on time," chattered Meled.

                Soff chuckled, and Taoten looked thoughtful.

                "We're making our way along the road all the way up to Presheld," said Soff. Presheld was a town quite near the official border of the Republic of the Saved, quite far along the road.

                "Oh, really? A full tour then. I've only been that far a handful of times. Speaking of time, I must get going - senator's rarely enjoy being delayed - but a friendly warning: there've been bandits along the road that way, a bit past Odd Dip. I'm based in Odd Dip, and I'm quite glad to be heading this way let me tell you. Guys I heard it from said they're taking some people as slaves, and almost all the valuables they can get their hands on. But the militia haven't found a trace of them!" exclaimed Meled, lifting her reins.

                "Worrisome," said Soff. "Thank you for the warning."

                "Yes, many thanks," added Taoten.

                "My pleasure! You're an odd pair, but I'm sure you can find others to travel with for safety. Now I'll be on my way!" said Meled, shaking her reins and setting her horses in motion. "Farewell!"

                "Farewell!" replied Soff, mirroring the wave Meled gave. Taoten, a little hesitantly, did the same. The undetected undead returned to their walk.

                Once Meled was some distance behind them, Soff said, "You seemed rather unfriendly just then, all of a sudden. Why?"

                "My long... Departure from the realm of life has left me unsure of the appropriate social customs. More importantly, some may be dangerously outdated and specific to the undead - your interactions just now seemed rather informal, but during the Empire there was a... Way of doing things, in many cases. I was never fond of it, but it was to be obeyed lest one stand out. At times, I did ignore it. Unfortunately standing out here would make things... Complicated," explained Taoten.

                "I suppose," replied Soff. "I guess being unfriendly isn't a crime. It's just - people get suspicious at night. Because there's so many undead that can't stand the light."

                "Yes. The truth is, back in the Empire we did most things at night. Undead who never sleep, like ourselves, are rare," said Taoten.

                "So what do you think about the bandits? Are they a threat to us?" asked Soff.

                "Possibly," said Taoten. "But it is very unlikely. Eliminating them would allow me to fully repair myself, which is well worth the minimal risk." Taoten smiled.

                Soff frowned slightly. Taoten's enthusiasm to kill, given the slightest excuse, was chilling. "Banditry is not a death sentence, Taoten," she said, "Although taking slaves is. With what the Empire did scarring the Republic's history, there are few who take it lightly."

                "Hmm," said Taoten, thoughtfully. "I do suppose we shall see. But for now, where were we?"

                "Huh? Oh, your lesson. You were detailing how to... feel...? The power, and the shape to try to form it into," remembered Soff.

                "Ah yes, of course. Well, as I was saying, the shape of a blade is quite useless," began Taoten. His lecture lasted until mid-morning;

                And then he began another.

Clothier

Clothier

                "And that's the last of the basics of the trade," said Vanna. She took a seat for what Gel was sure was the first time in two days, and motioned for Gel to do the same.

                "Is learning everything really necessary?" asked Gel. Vanna had spent the past two days taking Gel through the basics of being a 'general clothier' - which meant becoming a journeyman in tailoring, sewing, dressmaking, and a host of other usually separate trades.

                "Well," said Vanna, pausing for a moment as if she was listening for any other presence, "Your cover needs to work. Only an idiot would fail to pick up the basics within a few weeks, but we can slow down after you've picked that up. We'll have to as there are other things you need to be taught."

                "I guess," replied Gel with a weary sigh. She hadn't had the time to sit down for two days either - the last time she sat down had been when Vanna removed the 'killing spell' from her. The few times Vanna had been working (only a few hours on each day - she was apparently 'ahead' on most orders) Gel had been tasked with practicing or reading something. She'd decided that Vanna's endless energy was probably something to do with her links to the Magi. A dark power of some kind.

                "You'll get the hang of it. It's not much different from working a field all day, excepting that you need to use your brain more," said Vanna with a smile. "Don't start unwinding yet - I want to do some combat training tonight. But I think we'll have a little discussion first. If you're going to work for us, you deserve to know a little bit more about who we are, what we're do. The information Mike refused to share."

                "Thank you for trusting me," said Gel, sincerely.

                "Well, you know enough to ruin a lot already. It's not much more of a leap - I won't be telling you the details of our other operations, just background."

                Gel nodded. "Got it."

                "I'll start with the basics. We're a large family, rather than an organisation of individuals. We all descend from a handful of survivors of the portal era from whom many of us have inherited their magical power. Our power has waxed and waned over the millennia, but through the ages we have mastered many spells and skills (including some of the sigil magic).

                "About a thousand years ago we decided to spread out, rather than remaining in one area. The fortress was all but abandoned. Branches of the family were established in many cities and nations - we were amongst those who fled the peninsula sixty years ago, and I myself come from across the sea.

                "Despite our migration, all members of the family remain dedicated to the one cause we uphold - protecting our fortress and the towns that supply it. Green Creek and the other towns all have rumours and legends of our protection, and though they do not know it they supply us in the desert.

                "Now that the towns are under threat from the Thrath we have returned to protect them. Most have made their way to our fortress already, but more come from across the seas still. Some, like myself, can barely use our magic (or are completely unable to). We cannot become Magi so we have different assignments and uses. Until recently my task was mostly to produce and provide clothing (such as the robes I'm sure you've seen), with keeping an eye on the town only an afterthought. That has changed somewhat.

                "We suspect the Thrath are - somehow - behind the increasing agitation of the towns. It's possible that some of the refugees are Thrath, keeping their insane bloodlust in check. Because of this I - and others - have become part of the defences as well, though in secret.

                "It has become obvious that the Thrath intend to move north. Most believe - especially amongst the refugees - that they will move by sea. They have forgotten that the Thrath burnt their boats (and most shipyards) upon arrival. They have a handful of ships, and none of the resources they need to build more. They will come through the pass. We hope to stop them.

                "The towns do not have the capability to fend off the Thrath should they come, and even if they knew they could not hope to hold them at the desert. Our fortress is not the only defence we have prepared, but it is the greatest. It is... Big. Bigger than you might think, even having seen the inside."

                Vanna paused, then stood up. She motioned for Gel to follow her over to her desk, where she took a seat. Gel pulled another seat up alongside her as Vanna pulled a folded piece of paper from a stack of orders. She unfolded it, revealing a map of the area, centred on the desert. Gel recognised it vaguely - she had seen several hand-drawn approximations in her life, especially when her village had been planning their flight.

                "The fortress is roughly here, in the centre of the desert. I don't actually know how to find it, in case I... Anyway, over here-" Vanna pointed at a dot north-east of the desert, quite close to the coast (there was a squiggle underneath, probably the name) "-is Green Creek. The other towns are Lostdale, Bald Plateau, Higgins, Seventh Sign, Red Forest, Far Passage and Knotling," said Vanna, pointing at each town that formed a semi-circle around the desert, as well as a couple further out.

                "Most of the towns have all the trades they need to survive, and one or two resources the rest do not have, which are traded. For example, Lostdale and Higgins have mines, Far Passage has a port, and Green Creek has a wide expanse of farmland around it. The details aren't necessary, but overall the region - including some distance beyond what this map shows - is dominated by large and fairly insular towns.

                "Of the towns, most are quite appreciative of our work. Some, however - like Green Creek and Higgins - are less closely linked. There were not families living openly in either town, so naturally fear and suspicion is higher than in the others. Even these towns were, until recently, quite reliably 'for' us rather than against us.

                "In recent months a number of refugees have begun... Actively agitating against us. Instead of merely repeating rumours (or a close call) some have taken it upon themselves to try and organise groups to directly oppose us or force the towns to intervene. Although we have stepped up our operations of late, we have been operating for the past decade - the shift to 'active resistance' is unusual, though perhaps just overdue. Some do more than oppose us, spreading dreams of a triumphant return home.

                "By and large their efforts of these groups are ineffective. In many of the towns, they have merely served to turn opinion against the refugees (which has the unfortunate side effect of increasing the growth of the groups). In a couple of towns, however, there has been an effect on support for our cause.

                "The long term damage to our capabilities could very well prevent us from dealing with the Thrath, and in a worst case scenario we may be outright destroyed through attrition. In response to this, you and several others have been recruited as additional agents, with... Leverage held over you to prevent any information from leaking. There are many tasks other than assassination; and many that are not great enough to merit release after completing only one for us. There are other agents in Green Creek, for example."

                Vanna stopped talking for a few moments. "I see," said Gel, filling the silence. "Should I really be told so much just because I'm working for you?"

                "Yes. You should at least be up to speed, so there is no need for explanation at an inopportune time. As one of our agents, you have earned a measure of trust. If you serve us well, you might one day be family," replied Vanna.

                "Really?" asked Tadyel. "You'd let a refugee in on all your secrets? One you've forced to kill, or worse?"

                "You've killed, Gel. For us. So we've given you a place and a role. You're no longer a refugee. So, one day, you might no longer be just an agent," answered Vanna.

                Tadyel mulled it over for a while, then said, "I'm doing this for the comfort of my people and myself, not for your family."

                "That's good enough," said Vanna. Her smile was - for once - slightly predatory. Tadyel almost shivered.

Wandering Eastward - Feeding

Wandering Eastward - Feeding

                Soff did her best to pay attention to Taoten's words, but with so much countryside she'd never seen before her mind (and eyes) wandered a few times as he spoke for hours on end. The information Taoten was recounting was a list of methods and ideas that could be used to hone the wyrm-gift, rather than specific instructions, so Soff reckoned missing one or two would not be an issue.

                The moments she lost to gawking at the countryside were good ones. They had only been walking for roughly a day, yet they had already travelled further than Soff ever had - courtesy of walking without rest. The land she gazed upon was new to her, and though it was scarcely different from her home she found it fascinating. An old stone bridge, the river it crossed, the small mountain she had always seen in the distance seen and now behind them, some trees and flowers she had only seen a handful of before.

                It was kind of wonderful. Maybe she should have taken her mother's advice and travelled around the Republic. She hadn't wanted to drain her family’s finances, but... There was a lot to see. Perhaps she could have paid her way by taking odd jobs. But so many other things, doing so was no longer an option. Not when she was undead.

                "That's the end of the introductory lessons," said Taoten, regaining Soff's attention, "So far as I remember it. Without my notes, I am sure to have missed something. Sadly said notes were assuredly burnt during the razing of the protector keep in this area."

                "That was a... lot to remember," said Soff.

                "There are many refinements one can make, and many techniques to master. Of course, most essential is practice - as with any martial skill. I could cover all the information within a year or two; yet mastery of each technique will take much longer," said Taoten.

                Soff nodded. "Will we stop on the way from time to time so I can get some practice, then? Which reminds me - shall we stop for other reasons? I might not sweat anymore, but I'd still like to clean my clothes and myself at some point," asked Soff.

                "That and more. But only brief stops," answered Taoten. "In fact, we will make one tonight - I wish to drain a few trees to continue repairing myself. This limp is slowing us down too much."

                Strangely, Soff hadn't noticed their pace being slow, despite Taoten relying heavily on the wooden pole to haul himself along. I wonder what pace he'll set if he heals his leg...

                "Fine," said Soff. "I don't care about what you do to a few trees."

                "Really?" asked Taoten, sounding somewhat sneaky. "Perhaps you should drain a few as well, so you learn how to control the ability. It might keep you from killing someone, some day."

                What Taoten said made sense, but. "No," said Soff. "I'm not draining anything yet."

                "They're merely plants. You would have no qualms about chopping them up," said Taoten.

                "It's not about that. It's - I don't want to, to drain the life from something yet. That feeling, I don't want to know what it's like," explained Soff. "I'll do it when I'm ready."

                Taoten mulled over Soff's resolve for a while, then said, "Very well. I would suggest learning sooner, rather than later, however. I do not believe you will deal well with killing someone, and it is far too easy to do so."

                Soff thought about it, then sighed. "I'll - I'll try to. But if I can't, I won't," she said. Her desire to avoid experiencing the darker side of her undead nature wasn't worth the risk of killing someone. Although, Taoten could be lying (or shading the truth). "How often does it happen?" she asked.

                "Accidental killings on a first drain? About ninety percent of the time. We can drain a lot of life very fast, and although we can feel, in a way, how much life someone has it is hard to tell without some experience draining. Along with that, it's important to keep in mind your first drain against a human will likely be in combat, so you may not be thinking straight. Ah, and despite my great reduction in hunger, life is sweet. It can be done without, but it often makes one reticent to stop," replied Taoten. "Though given what I have seen of your character, the last is unlikely to affect you."

                "Thanks," said Soff, in reply to the compliment. The risk is too high, she thought.

                "The sun is about to set," said Taoten. "In a couple of hours I will feed, and walk you through it as well. If you can bring yourself to. I... understand your feelings on this matter."

                "Of course you do," replied Soff, rolling her eyes.

                Taoten chuckled. "I'll let you enjoy the scenery for a while."

                Some time after the sun had set - Soff had no clue how long it was exactly. Taoten, in contrast, was certain that one and a half hours had past. Most importantly, however, it was dark.

                "This copse looks suitable," said Taoten, breaking the silence. He pointed towards a small cluster of trees sitting just off the road.

                "Okay," said Soff. She felt her heart start racing. She was nervous, fearful, about using the very power that killed her. The wyrm-gift was useful, but feeding on life was a dark and terrible thing.

                Having a heart that still beat was very strange. Soff pulled a hand to her chest and felt it. Sure enough, she felt her rapid heartbeat. Though her heart's efforts were probably no longer needed, Soff was glad it beat. It made her feel human still. Her nervousness did as well, although despite it she was able moving her hands without feeling as if she was second guessing every motion. That was new.

                Taoten wandered off the road into the copse, and Soff followed. The trees were thick enough to prevent someone from the road seeing what went on within. Despite that, there were no surprises. The trees would merely be serving as a screen to shield them from the road.

                "Unlike some drainers of life," began Taoten, "We do not destroy that we drain. We merely take the life from it. Observe." Taoten placed a hand on one of the trees. Soff saw his eyes begin to glow as he drained the life from it.

                "The tree does not wither as I take the entirety of its life. It is now completely dead, but it will take time to decay. This applies to humans, as well - once drained, a body appears as if suddenly struck down by some malady of the organs. They do not age excessively or wither away into a fluidless corpse. This covers our tracks when we drain plant life, to some extent - especially leafless trees in winter. Sadly, I believe we are currently in late spring?"

                "Yes," replied Soff.

                "It is good to know my small knowledge of plant flowerings still serves me well," said Taoten. "Come here," he added, beckoning Soff to another tree.

                Her heart, which had been calming down, immediately took off again. She took a deep breath, and moved over to Taoten. I really don't want to do this, she thought.

                Taoten noticed her hesitance. "You do not have to do this now. As a matter of fact... I suggest you wait a few more days. I shall be able to handle any combat by myself, and it is unlikely that we will even face any," said Taoten. "Forcing yourself is unnecessary."

                "No," said Soff, "I'll do it now. I won't feel any better about it in a week."

                "Okay. Place your hand against the tree. You should be able to feel its life - it will likely feel quite weak. A faint pulse, extending out around your hand," said Taoten.

                Soff reached out and touched the tree. She could feel... Something. It had to be the life of the tree, but it didn't innately 'feel' like life. It was an unusual new sense pressing on her hand - another sense coming through her touch, like pressure and temperature. Touching the tree's life was akin to touching a flowing stream - she could feel the current moving just beneath her hands. In fact, she could feel some flowing through her hands.

                "I'm not absorbing it when it touches me," said Soff. "Why?"

                "Because you're not taking it into you. It only flows through you because we lack life ourselves - if you had life within you, the two would press up against each other without joining," explained Taoten.

                Soff ground her teeth a little as she remembered her lack of life. "Okay. I can feel it," she said.

                "Now drain it. Pull on the life, with your hand. It is a similar... pull to that your aura would exert if you allowed it to become active. You have felt a moment of it?" asked Taoten.

                "A moment, yeah. Just after I awoke, before I stopped it," replied Soff. Taoten nodded, and Soff focused on her hand. She gave the life a gentle tug.

                Life poured into her hand, far more than she expected. It was as if, simply by tugging, she'd opened a hole in the tree - a hole that led straight into her. Power flooded into her. She gasped and stepped back from the tree, her hand falling to her side.

                The feeling of life flowing into her was incredible. Like she had been starving, and was eating the first proper meal she'd had in months. Tastier than the most incredible, mouth-watering meal she'd ever had. The strength of the feeling utterly revolted her.

                "You can understand why getting carried away is such a risk. A tree has barely any life, and the feeling is far, far stronger when a human is drained. Even when we are full the feeling is the same," said Taoten. "You will notice, however, that despite the intensity of the feeling there is no drive to feel it again."

                Taoten was right - beyond Soff's revulsion at what she had just felt, there was nothing. The great pleasure she had felt, the feeling of sating an insane hunger, held no allure to her.

                "I consider it the greatest blessing of my efforts to reduce my hunger. The second is that with foreknowledge of the feeling it is easy to stop when full, or when an opponent is incapacitated. The feeling is incredible, but it barely registers as a reason to continue," continued Taoten.

                "So before you moved between realities, you could not control your hunger?" asked Soff. Thinking about it worried her - she didn't think she'd have been able to control herself at all.

                "No. I... Did not kill much, as I understood the addictive nature of the feeling. I rarely drained more than I needed to, though if I started to drain someone I was unable to stop. Resisting feeding was torturous. I avoided any physical contact with others, and most social," said Taoten. "I am glad that that period of my existence is now long ago."

                Soff placed her hand upon the tree again. The life within was still there, but it felt weaker. Her store of life - something Taoten had likely not described simply because she could innately feel it - had increased, but not much. She was nowhere near full.

                Another hand came to rest beside hers. "You've taken only a little. The tree will live. Draining a tree fully would add a significant amount to your reserves, but this tree cannot take much more and survive. It is an interesting balance - humans can give much without dying, although a significant portion remains. Yet for animals the portion they need to live on is greater, and for plants greater still. This beyond the vastly differing amounts of life in each."

                Once again Soff let her hand fall to her side. "I won't take the rest," she said.

                "Then this tree will live," said Taoten, removing his hand as well. "The rest, however..."

                Soff stood silently as Taoten went around the inside of the copse, draining each tree in turn. She placed her hand on some of the trees he had drained - completely lifeless, dead. They still looked alive, but their roots had stopped drinking and soon their leaves would brown. It made her sad - the trees were quite beautiful. Destroying that beauty felt wrong. She sighed.

                "That's the last," said Taoten. "It's a sign of our passage, but it'll be a while before anyone notices that the trees are dead. I haven't fed like that in a while."

                Taoten smiled wryly with the last comment, then lifted up his broken leg. "Seems to work," he said, bending it back and forth. Soff peered at it; it was no longer obviously broken. Taoten continued, saying, "Unfortunately my body's still a mess, but I'll work on that later."

                "Back to the road?" asked Soff.

                "Yes," replied Taoten. "Ruminate on life-draining, and next time I feed you can practice controlling yourself. It probably isn't necessary, but it helps." He turned and headed from the road, casting his walking pole aside.

                Soff followed behind him silently. One step at a time, she thought. Down the darkening road.

Killer

Killer

                "That's... A quite clever plan," said Tadyel's contact. It was the evening of the day she'd come up with her plan. An earlier attempt to contact her overseer had failed, so Tadyel had spent the day organising the purchase of some new clothes, and some repairs to those she had. It was something to spend the money on, at least, and it gave her an excuse to stay in the town.

                "I'll see about organising the poison," continued the contact. "You'll need something quite deadly, and that will last at least a few hours. It may take a few days. Contact me each evening, and if the poison has become available I'll tell you where to collect it. Well. This is a clever enough plan that, should it take too long, I may well extend the spell on you."

                "You can do that?" asked Tadyel.

                "Yes, as well as remove it. I will not do so if you waste time, but should it be unavoidable I can afford to be lenient. Organising such would be ... troublesome, so do not expect it.

                "Remain in town, and maintain your cover. Keep an eye on Ormgus. And remember that we are not dedicated to this plan. Should you think of another, especially one better, feel free to attempt it."

                Tadtel nodded over the talking cup of water she held in her hands, causing the gray stone to roll about inside. Her contact sounded quite pleased, overall.

                "If you have no questions -" Tadyel shook her head "- I shall speak with you tomorrow night. Good evening."

                "Good evening," replied Tadyel as the connection ended.

                She hid the stone away in her pockets, and gulped down the water. Well, I suppose I have some time to... relax? thought Tadyel. This may be quite a strange experience.

                The poison didn't arrive for three days, and it was not until the fourth evening after Tadyel's discussion with her contact that she had the opportunity to use to poison. She spent the intervening time looking at clothes (she had visited the dressmaker, tailor, and general clothier) and sampling local delicacies. To those who asked, she said she was recuperating from the trip across the desert (quite true) before likely making her way north.

                All in all, she could honestly say it was one of the best times of her life. Her childhood had been better, but only through hard sacrifices by her parents, and it had not been a long one. As soon as she could reliably cut or plough it became her job. Tadyel had even been tempted by certain... pampering services, that were the province of the rich in Green Creek (and apparently the other towns), but she had resisted the urge. She also lacked the money for them.

                Ormgus made the same speech everyday - the fourth time Tadyel heard it, he used the same speech he had on the first day (with only minor changes in the telling). It made her quite a bit more cynical about Ormgus's operation, since he wasn't truly speaking from his heart (despite the passion in his voice and the various times he said he was).

                The poison had been left on the opposite side of town, hidden under a loose gutter stone. Tadyel had decided to put off retrieving it until the next afternoon instead of spending an entire night roaming the streets. It would have been too risky.

                So it was that she dozed until the early morning of her seventh day in town, and pulled herself out of bed before even the bakers rose.

                "Uuugh," she groaned, bleary eyed. I've spent just under two weeks and I'm already soft as anything, she thought with a smile. It wasn't really true. She'd never had to wake up this early, although in the depths of the desert they had sometimes walked during the night instead of day to avoid the sun. She was also maintaining her physique through exercise done before bed.

                Despite not really being 'soft', Tadyel was very tempted to just go back to the comfortable bed she'd been sleeping in for the past week. No bed she'd ever slept in came close.

                Duty pushed her onwards, and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She wrapped herself in her new dark blue cloak (so dark it was almost black), and made her way silently downstairs. Keeping a very careful eye out she slipped into the inn's kitchen and out the back door, making sure it remained unlatched and openable from the outside.

                There was nobody in the streets of Green Creek at this hour barring two night watchmen who did hourly patrols. They had been past a short time prior, and Tadyel would be making her way behind them as they carried out their patrol. If she was fast, she'd even make it back before they finished their loop through the town.

                Tadyel made her way across town. She felt that keeping to the shadows was essential - the few lit windows she passed were given a very wide berth. Getting seen would almost certainly lead to her being caught. Getting caught would almost certainly mean her death. She frowned slightly at the thought, worried.

                Her worry over getting caught made each moment stretch into an age. Tadyel's mind seemed stuck between rapidly checking her surroundings, and careful avoidance of any light sources. There were only a few, as the town's lamp posts were doused at midnight.

                Sooner than she expected she found herself in the square. The entire space was lit only by faint starlight, as all the adjoining buildings were completely dark. Luck is on my side tonight, thought Tadyel as she crept around the edge of the square, keeping to the shadows cast by the buildings.

                After reaching the stage without incident, she took a close look at the railings. They were rough-hewn, like the rest of the stage. Tadyel pulled out her dagger and set to work, loosening parts of the wood until they stuck up slightly. Just enough to catch on a hand that passed over them.

                It took the better part of an hour for her to finish her work. On both railings, from top to bottom, the rough wood now sported countless opportunities for splinters - in both directions. Tadyel carefully poured the poison onto every last one. It smelt a little, but it was not noticeable unless one sniffed closely. That was good enough.

                She only wound up using a little more than half of the vial to coat both of the railings. Rather than risk getting caught with the poison, she rolled the vial underneath the stage. It wouldn't be found unless the area was thoroughly searched, and that would only happen when it was too late.

                Her work complete, Tadyel left the area, heading along a different path than that she had initially taken. She was very, very worried about running into the night patrol as digging up splinters had taken longer than she expected. Luck stayed with her, and she made it back to the inn without seeing a single soul (though she did once hear the guards moving the other direction a couple of streets over; something that made her realise that compared to her, they were remarkably noisy).

                After Tadyel slipped back through the back door and relatched it, she heard a loud thud come from one of the store rooms adjacent the kitchen. She jumped a little bit, her tired brain dragging itself back awake with a massive blast of adrenaline.

                Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, she thought, moving as quickly and silently as she could into the main area of the inn. A distant satisfied groan came from the store room - it sounded like the man who did the morning bar-keeping.

                As footsteps came from the store room, Tadyel was exceptionally grateful for the soft shoes she had bought. They made next to no noise, despite the fact that she took the stairs two at a time in her rush. Taking only a moment to ensure no-one was standing around upstairs, she darted back into her room.

                She sat down on her bed, breathing heavily, one hand over her heart. Her pulse slowed down from its breakneck pace as she settled down. Soon it was back to normal, and Tadyel was back to feeling incredibly tired.

                She quickly changed into her bedclothes (such a luxury!), then lay down on the bed with a sigh. That's that, she though, done. She fell asleep within moments.

                Tadyel slept very, very well that morning. So well that she was awake in time to get to Ormgus's speech despite being up half the night. As she leant against a lamp-post (again - it had become a habit) she realised it was the best night of sleep she had ever had. Probably because I had nothing else to do until now, she thought.

                The usual crowd had gathered, almost all refugees with a couple of townspeople. Ormgus's followers bunched up around the front, more than before. It had been eerie for Tadyel to watch their number increase by one or two a day. They seemed to be growing in number faster than the Magi had anticipated. It worried her. Killing their leader would make her their enemy, even if she had nothing further to do with the Magi.

                Ormgus showed up right on time, entering through the same side street as usual. He had a smile on his face, something he had first done the day before. Tadyel had amused herself by thinking of it as 'something Ormgus had finally mastered'. The smile didn't quite fit his face; and more importantly, Tadyel was sure it didn't reach his eyes.

                From afar it was hard to tell, but Tadyel wasn't sure she could keep her cool up close. A change in her 'position' could also possibly clue someone in, and Tadyel really didn't want that to happen. Her heart began to race as Ormgus approached the stage. Most of his entourage split off, and his second in command took the stage ahead of him. Neither she nor the large man following him (an advisor) ever touched the railing.

                But Ormgus, on this day as on all others, did. Half way up the ramp he stopped suddenly, and pulled his hand off the railing. He only spared it a quick glance, and after a couple of comments to the man behind he continued up the stairs.

                The crowd was the same as ever as Ormgus took centre stage. Most were muted, waiting for the speech to begin; his supporters at the front were eager, but patient. Only Tadyel, near the back with a few others who were more curious than anything else, was tense. It took a gargantuan effort to prevent her fists from clenching tight.

                Ormgus raised his hands in the air, a small speck of blood on his right hand where a splinter had obviously bit home. The few people who were chatting idly fell silent.

                "My friends," he began, "Thank you for coming before me agai- again. I'm sorry, I-"

                Ormgus's arms dropped down, and he staggered backwards a couple of steps. Suddenly his eyes went wide. "I-" he stammered.

                After a couple of moments of wide eyed silence, as both of those on stage with him looked on with growing concern, he toppled forwards.

                The loud thud made as he fell set off an immediate uproar. "Ormgus!" yelled his supporters, "What's happened?" yelled almost all, and "Victory," whispered Tadyel's quickly ended smile.

                A cacophony of voices soon destroyed any possibility of picking up one person from the mass, but the entire crowd pressed forwards, even those less interested and Tadyel. On the stage, Ormgus's two closest followers squatted over his fallen form.

                "He's dead!" yelled the large advisor, standing and backing up in shock. The crowd went silent at the news.

                "Poison," muttered the second-in-command. "But how?" She noticed the crowd standing close. "Nobody leaves!" she declared.

                Ormgus's followers in the crowd immediately began moving, but one member of the crowd - a townsperson - called out, "I'll go wherever I please in my own town, thank you very much! The town patrol will be here soon to sort this out, and if you pull shit like that you'll not be welcome - dead leader or no!"

                The woman on the stage shot a look of pure hatred at the man who had spoken up. It was strangely familiar to Tadyel, who quickly realised that it had reminded her of the Thrath. Except the Thrath gave the look to everyone, all the time.

                As soon as it had appeared, it was gone. "Fine," said the second-in-command. "But someone must pay for this!"

                An angry confirmation came from Ormgus's supporters and some of the refugees. Quite a few others were moving away from the crowd - a few sat down to recover from the shock. Some of the leaving refugees, including one Tadyel recognised as being quite critical of Ormgus, were being obstructed by Ormgus's people.

                "Cut that out right now!" came a voice from the far end of the square.

                Running into the square - likely summoned by someone who had left the square as soon as Ormgus collapsed - came seven of the town patrollers. Their leader, a raven haired woman, had yelled at those who had moved to obstruct others.

                "Alright," the woman said, "We need the names of everyone here in case we need to ask you questions. You two on the stage stay put, and anyone who thinks they can add anything to our investigation hang around."

                She quickly jogged up to the stage as her people spread out among the dispersing crowd. Tadyel caught a faint bit of what she said to those on the stage ('So what exactly happened this morning - full detail, as if I didn't know about these speeches') before one of the patrollers approached her.

                "Your name, ma'am?" the patrolman asked, giving her a respectful nod of his head.

                "Tadyel," she replied.

                "Do you come to these speeches often?" he asked.

                "Yes, just out of curiosity," she replied.

                "Thank you, ma'am," he said, moving past her towards someone else.

                Tadyel looked around. Some more patrollers had arrived. A few were offering comfort to those quite shocked by Ormgus's death, and a couple seemed to be calming down a heated conversation between a townsperson and two of Ormgus's followers (Tadyel was pretty sure she'd head it start - the townsperson had said, "Good riddance!")

                No-one seemed about to stop her from leaving, so Tadyel took one last look at the stage (upon which the patrol leader was taking a look at the body) before taking her usual route away from the square. She headed straight back to the inn, fended off questions about what had happened by looking distressed (how the barkeep already knew was a mystery) and returned to her room.

                Once there, she immediately dropped the stone into the cup of water she had left behind that morning. It took a few moments, but the stone began to glow.

                "Well done," came the voice of her contact. "Very well done. I think you've gotten away with it too - I just heard that the poison was found at the scene of the crime, and that any one of a couple of dozen people could have done it. A couple of dozen that doesn't include you, and is mostly townspeople.

                "I should be clear. Ormgus's people think a townsperson did it; and the townspeople don't care if it was. They're at each other’s throats already. It's pretty much as we expected things would play out, assuming you didn't get caught. So congratulations. You've done very, very well."

                "Thank you," said Tadyel, somewhat solemnly. That she had just killed someone was starting to sink in. It felt... Bad, but she didn't know how bad. She hadn't liked Ormgus, and she had done it for good reasons. But she hadn't done a good thing.

                "I'd give you some time to... Fret about killing Ormgus, but I have something else to discuss with you first. I'm allowed to make you an offer, about -" began the contact.

                "About continuing to work for you and the Magi. I know. I accept," said Tadyel. She had already decided that. She'd have a far better life than she would otherwise working for them - especially if they defeated the Thrath. If they lost, she would be far from the fight and able (and probably helped) to flee. And those she had chosen... They'd be guaranteed a good life.

                "Well, that's good. It's good to know you've decided already. I did hear that you had quite a chat with Carmichael. Alright. This isn't something you can back out of - are you sure?"

                "Yes," said Tadyel with a curt nod.

                "I'll see you in the inn around lunch. Keep an ear out. Oh - and don't say anything stupid when we meet, okay?"

                "Okay." As soon as Tadyel had responded, the connection ended. She took the dull gray stone from the water, then gulped it down. I guess it's finally time to meet my contact, she thought. Then she settled onto the bed with a soft groan, and thought about what she'd done.

                The eventual realisation Tadyel had was that, as cold-hearted as it was, she didn't care too much. Not enough to make her feel that it hadn't been the right thing to do. It was how she felt at the moment, at least. She wasn't sure if it had all... sunk in yet.

                She sat downstairs in the inn, idly swirling her drink. It was the juice of several fruits grown nearby, and really tasty. She'd never had anything like it before she came to Green Creek, but it had quickly become her favourite drink. Mmm, she thought, taking a sip.

                Half an hour had passed since it was roughly 'lunch' time, and Tadyel was still sitting alone in the inn. A handful of patrons, mostly other lodgers, were about. None had expressed any unusual interest in Tadyel. She'd caved and placed a food order a few minutes ago; soon it'd be ready and... Well, she could hang around idly, but it might attract some unwanted interest.

                The clatter of the door made her aware of someone entering the inn. "Hey," the woman said, "I heard there's someone who saw Ormgus bite it here?"

                "Yeah," replied the barkeep, "Tadyel, she's over there." He pointed.

                "Thanks!" said the woman. Tadyel caught a bit of her smile as she span around and began making her way between the tables. Her voice was too high to be Tadyel's contact.

                Tadyel almost grimaced as the unwanted socialisation opportunity made her way straight towards her. She maintained her composure - she recognised the woman. She was the general clothier, proprietor of one of the shops Tadyel had visited.

                "Oh, I recognise you," said the woman as she came close. "You came to my shop the other day!" The woman took a seat without asking.

                "Yes, I did," said Tadyel. "I'm not sure what you want but-"

                "Oh, I just want to know if Ormgus's death was as horrible as it sounds," asked the woman. "The word is it was quite dreadful."

                Noticing that the pretty much every other patron - and the barkeep - were paying attention, Tadyel answered, "It wasn't nice but it wasn't really that horrible - he just stopped... Speaking, suddenly, and then fell forwards. His second-in-command said something about being poison, and then the town patrol showed up and dispersed the crowd. I - I saw worse on the road, and in the south." The last bit was true, unfortunately. The flight from the peninsula had taken the refugees past some truly terrible acts committed by the Thrath.

                "Oh, how macabre," said the clothier. "Alphonse, can I get one of your spring sandwiches and a pint of cider?"

                "Of course!" hollered the barkeep in reply. Having heard what they wanted to, the other patrons returned to their conversations.

                Before Tadyel could speak - she had a quite sharp comment to make - the clothier continued. "Sounds like he got what he should have," she said, her voice dropping a full two octaves. The intonation was different as well - a different accent altogether. The clothier sounded exactly like her contact. As Tadyel's eyes went wide the woman added - and, Tadyel noticed, without the local accent of her contact - "So, are you going to be in town much longer? I suppose you have to stay until at least the investigation is over."

                "I - yes, I do need to stay in town for a while. I'm not really sure about leaving, in fact. This is a lovely place," replied Tadyel.

                "I quite like it myself. It was enough for me to move my whole life here, ten years ago," said the clothier with a smile. "I moved here from further out east. Oh! I haven't introduced my self. My name is Savannah, although I usually go by Vanna instead."

                "Pleased to meet you. I am - as you've been told - Tadyel. Back home I would often go by Gel, at least among friends."

                "Well then, Gel, I'm feeling very generous today. I happen to have an opening for an apprentice clothier... And I'd be happy to take on a young lady such as yourself," said Vanna. Tadyel examined her as she spoke, taking in her appearance properly.

                Vanna was someone smiles graced naturally, rising easily and seemingly perfectly suited. It was no twisting of the face, unlike Ormgus's. Even at rest, the corners of her mouth seemed to be turned upwards, perpetually cheery. Her eyes, though - if Gel had not known what she was looking for, she'd have missed it. Vanna was very, very shrewd. Her sea blue eyes caught every single part of Gel's examination (though Vanna's smile grew as she watched Gel, thankfully).

                Gel suspected Vanna was in her mid-thirties, a decade and a half older than Gel was. Her brunette hair was done in a respectable braid, although some had broken free to frame her face. She was probably slightly taller than Gel's one hundred and sixty-eight centimetres, and was svelte and very fit. While Vanna probably lacked Gel's strength (and years of farm work), she looked as if she more than made up for it in gracefulness. Or she would, if Gel wasn't surprisingly graceful for her stocky build.

                All in all, Vanna looked like someone who could be an agent, but she was too... Cheerful. Too friendly. She was definitely Gel's contact, and even her demeanour matched. It was just bizarre. It made Gel wonder if Vanna was secretly far, far more vicious than she seemed. "Ah," replied Gel after some time, "I'm not sure. Would I have somewhere to stay? I'm afraid to admit that I can't afford to stay here much longer." Gel waved to indicate the inn.

                "Oh, of course, of course! The shop is also my home, and has several spare rooms," answered Vanna. Her smile was very broad, but it beamed with happiness - not even a hint of a hidden threat.

                "Then I guess I accept," answered Gel with a smile. Vanna held out her hand, and Gel took it. A quick shake sealed the deal.

                "Well then, I suppose... I suppose we should eat lunch," said Vanna, smiling at the barkeep as he brought the two women their meals. "Then we'll see about getting you moved."

                "Alright," said Gel. She had already transferred her attention from Vanna to her meal (a roast lamb sandwich). She didn't notice, but it made Vanna smile again.

                Vanna raised her glass of cider. "To your new career!" she said.

                Gel looked right at Vanna. Her smile was knowing, and her eyes were exceptionally shrewd and... Pleased. Gel was unsure if it was about the success of the assassination or about Gel agreeing to work for her. But Gel was fairly sure it was the pleasure a mastermind feels when a plot has borne fruit.

                "To my new career," Gel answered, raising her glass as well. With a soft chink, a drink, and two friendly smiles the real offer being made was finalised.