Veiled Shadows (Mae x Enki) - CLOSED

Maeriel

Well-Known Member
Benefactor
(Small note: This RP is based on the setting Midnight, but I confess I know little of it and it may contain gross errors. You've been warned.)

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Orun's Bones Settlement
Kaladrun Mountains, Eredane
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Yasheira Dumein sat perched on one of the large trees which grew from the ruins of old Orun, now dubbed Orun's Bones, since it was laid bear, just some old piles of rocks vaguely resembling the fort which once stood next to the waterfall, ensconced away in one of the many craggy folds of the Kaladrun Mountains. It had been a Dwarven outpost which was manned once upon a time, when you could still reach the Dwarven underground halls now sealed at all sides, their denizens dumb and blind to the plight of the surface dwellers. Much like the Elves of Erethor, hiding behind their shield. Freaking cowards. In truth, people like the Rebels of this settlement, willing to rise up from the crushing hold of Izrador and fight back, were few and dwindling.

Once, Shei had believed that they stood a chance against the Shadow, that they could get the other races to unite and take up arms and say 'no more', but such hopes had vanished over the course of the 7 years she's been a spy, assassin and saboteur for the Rebels. She'd worked all over Eredane and seen much. She knew better now, her vain hopes abandoned. Today, Yasheira was content in killing as many Shadow servants, releasing as many slaves and causing as much havoc as possible before her inevitable death.

"Shei." a familiar voice called from down below. Wearing a long dirt spattered brown hooded cloak, Derin stood, blending with the setting around them, a Wildlander trick passed down from one of their allies. The Sarcosan human was somewhere in-between plain and handsome, his brown almond shaped eyes had a spark to them, his caramel colored skin was rather striking and his shoulder length wavy black hair was not knotted and greasy like most here, but rather glossy and well tended. They had shared a night once, when Shei had drank too much of Quartermaster Kent's moonshine. She could see in his eyes when her dark ones met his brown that he was still pining over her. Yasheira didn't share the sentiment.

"Dorasil Tytus is calling for you. I'll take your shift." Good, she thought. That means I have a job, instead of the drudgery of guard duty. The woman dropped wordlessly, grabbing onto another branch on her way down not to fall too hard, coming down in a crouch, quiet as a cat. She stood up, patting some dried leaves and twigs off her cloak and looking at Derin, the man was just as tall as her, normal for people of his land. "Thank you, Derin." she spoke in her sultry voice and without adding anything else, left, preferring to ignore the slight discomfort of the tension between them.

Long ago, humans fleeing the Shadow servants sought refuge in the maze-like crags and cliffs of Kaladrun mountains. Aside from the Dwarven halls, there had been plenty of caves and natural tunnels hidden in the rock. Here, they had been fortunate to find Dwarven carved dwellings, a rough village of sorts, likely meant for merchants and whatnot to stay and some lodging for the families of those Dwarves who worked in the outpost. It had been long abandoned for being so close to the surface. She was told they had had to kill a nest of goblins that had taken over, but that was long before she was even born.

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By the entrance, which was well hidden from prying eyes, there were pegs where sentries such as her would hang the mottled cloaks they used to hide from spies. The Dark God had eyes in the skies... eyes everywhere, really. Most of the dwellings were empty, but many had now families, people fortunate to have been born free, even if it came at high costs, free from Shadow masters, prisoners of the small confinements of safety in which they lived. Yasheira paced the carved tunnels that comprised the hidden Rebel settlement, going through corridors and down stairs, up bridges, all the way to Tytus' spartan apartments and office.

The Dornish man was imposing. In his 40s, he was one of the most powerful Rebels alive, in no small part due to his indomitable heritage, the strong northern folk once having threatened to conquer the whole of Eredane, after all. He was hunched over the round table containing maps and letters. Few were the people who could read and write these days, it was forbidden by Shadow Law, but agents like Tytus and Shei were taught common and the Rebel's code used on their few written communiques. Tytus studied such a one just then, powerful hands holding to the edges of the table.

His clear blue eyes, common to his people, raised to look at the spy as she entered and he grunted. It was meant as a greeting. A gruff gesture was meant to tell her to approach and she did, sauntering to the edge of the table and then standing, hands clasped at the small of her back. "Dorasil Tytus." She used to honorific, even the man cared little for it. He took a deep breath and straightened up, towering almost a foot over the woman, the corded muscles of his rarely covered chest clenching. He wasn't happy. He rarely was.

"Agent Yasheira, I've got a letter from the outpost outside of Chandering. There's a new agent supposed to join us. Some Erenlander called Victor Ayren. He seems to check out." The Dorn tossed a metal coin, scratched and treated in a manner that whatever symbol it held in the past was indiscernible. It was a Dorasil's mark of confidence, adopted so that the illiterate could know who to trust. Shei tilted her head, clearly not seeing what it had to do with her. The man huffed and scowled. "I don't like it, so you are going to tag along with him, I have a mission, an envoy arrived in Chandering, he'll collect news from the local appointed mayor and take it back to Riismark. You'll intercept him when he departs and get everything he may have of interest. His paperwork should contain a good deal of information about the Shadow Servants next moves, collected knowledge of possible compromised agents and settlements, it is crucial intelligence. Along the way you'll assess if this Victor checks out."

Yasheira's eyes could be pits of hellish darkness so irritated she felt. Yet she kept her sultry voice even, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance. "What am I, a babysitter?"
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Apparently that's exactly what she was. Tytus hadn't at all been amused by her sarcasm and his shouting could be heard echoing against the walls. After that Shei got little to no word in edgewise and was forced to go along with it all. And here she was, swaggering through the streets of stormy Chandering, going to meet this Victor, who she was told was staying at The Drowned Cat, a local Rebel-friendly tavern. Fitting name for the dreadful weather of that night. The thick droplets turning all the darkened streets of the human town into a muddy mess. Thunder and lightning keeping most folk out of the streets, which suited her fine, less prying eyes.

Shei entered the busy tavern full of somber faces with darker moods, many eyes turned to the unusual sight which was the beautiful woman, all clad in snug dark cloth and a not at all discreet cleavage. Her oil-treated long cloak had made sure she remained mostly dry despite the heavy rain and she hung it by the door to let the water droplets fall off. She carried only a few concealed daggers in her garb, anyone caught armed without a permit was readily arrested in cities controlled by the Shadow such as these, but Shei had grown in such a place and she knew how to work with it. The spy had a fake permit, however there was no point in calling attention unless it was needed.

The woman's heels clicked off the wooden floor as she crossed the room and sat by the counter. "'Night, what's yer poison?" Asked the bartender regarding her, the man was gaunt, with a mop of straw-colored hair, muddy green eyes and a short-cropped beard and mustache. "Dark ale." Shei said, studying the counter and then raising her dark eyes at the man, adding. "It's dark tonight." It was a Rebel code phrase. She confirmed it by sliding one of the brushed iron coins along with the coppers for the beverage. The man swiped them and put it in a pocket of his apron without batting an eye and answered. "Plenty of torches, though." It was the right answer. The man knew what she was doing there, and as he set the foaming mug in front of her, motioned his head to a booth by the corner where a man sat alone.

Yasheira nodded, taking a hold of her mug and swaggering on to sit herself across from her charge and new partner, the man called Victor Ayren.

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@Enki
 
It was a dark night and stormy in Chandering, with people walking left and right in the streets. The moon was few hours ago visible, but now is covered by the black clouds of thundering storm. Most honest people stayed inside, as any man, woman, and child would know that during the nights the criminal activity is at its peak hours. Numerous shady looking people are seen walking across the streets, covering themselves from the rain. It was a bleak night, which was typical for Chandering.

Victor was among the numerous people that walked the streets. He was keeping a simple black cloak on him as he strolled across the streets. It was cold, but he managed to bear it. There were few lights across the streets that came through the windows of the different houses littering the dank city of Chandering. Victor continued strolling down the path, ignoring the other people as he was busy with nothing but reaching the inn at which he should be for the night. The inn and its sign were soon at his reach. A sign was above the door of the inn, with the picture of a drowned cat drawn to the wood. Victor gently smiles at the picture before opening the door and stepping into the inn.

The humid and dirty stench of the inn environment filled his nostrils instantly as he soon closed the door behind him. Victor gazed around at the surroundings. Several drunken men and few maids going left and right. None of them were pretty to look at, anyway. He soon made his way to the bartender, leaning at the counter. ''What's yer poison, sir?'' The bartender asked while looking at the newcomer. He gently scratches is full goatee on his mouth while looking at the bartender into his eyes to see if he catched his absolute attention so he does not mishear him. Once it was catched he would speak: ''I'd like a pint of mead, please. Also, It's getting dark tonight.'' Victor said to the man, nodding his head gently. It is the code phrase given by the rebels that he was told to say so he could be given more specific instructions. Along with the moment he reaches over an iron coin. Victor gently frowns as he just now realized that he still had his hood on so he quickly took it off to reveal his face to the bartender. Bartender chuckles.''Plenty of torches, though.'' He responded as he soon filled up a pint for him. Victor took it, nodding as he soon paid him with a small bag of coppers. The bartender raised his eyebrow a slight bit as it was more than the price for ale. ''Well. Thanks for the generosity. Wait at one of the tables. A fully fledged member will soon arrive to give you your orders.''

Victor grabbed the pint and smiled. The things were going rather smoothly for him. ''I presume I should head and take a seat at one of the empty tables?'' Victor smiled as he asked, with the bartender nodding. He smiles as he soon walks around in search of an empty table. He soon found a booth by the corner where he sat. He begun to gently sip from his pint while looking around. He cautiously eyed the other people. He saw few people give stares at him, which suggested they were either other rebels or even other Shadow Agents, but the latter was quite unlikely so he relaxes. This is just yet an another one of Rebel movements that he is tasked with clearing out.

After relaxing for a while Victor spots the lone lady walking up to the bartender. He raises an eyebrow as he sees them talk, but can't hear their words from this noise. He sighs as he gets back to drinking, with 1/4 of his pint already drunk. He soon stopped drinking as he looks at the girl approaching his table. He smiles at her and soon begun to talk once she took her seat. ''Good evening, miss. It's a rare sight seeing a fair individual like you in a place filled with less fortunate people.'' He said, smiling. He suspects that she could be the Rebel meant to take care of him, but he is uncertain. He decides to play it safe with the fair maiden. ''So, that's a fancy drink you've got there. You must be a heavy drinker, yes?'' He asked as an attempt to have a small chat.




 
He's smiling. Shei thought with mild puzzlement. It was a rather rare sight these days when the Shadow ruled and stifled all the best things out of life. Who smiles at strangers? She supposed he could be a tad anxious due to the nature of their encounter, or perhaps it was the fact she is an attractive woman. Men were men no matter how bleak the world may look. She leaned back, looking far too comfortable for being the only woman in a tavern full of less than friendly-looking men, dark eyes glanced momentarily down to her dark ale and up to his eyes studying before her dark, sultry voice responded. "It's more drinkable than the other swill they have in here, but less strong than what you're having, so... strange remark."

There was something off about the man in front of her. Lorn would laugh whole-heartedly and tease Shei on how everyone new 'had something off about them' in the spy's opinion. Yasheira had a tendency to be paranoid and hard to trust. They were traits that kept you alive in this world, so she made no apologies for it. People who earned her trust, the very few, had her complete loyalty. One should appreciate the few bonds that could be formed in a life so harsh and dangerous as the life of a Rebel fighting against a gargantuan threat. She took a sip from her ale and said. "I'm Yasheira Dumein, You can call me Shei, I am the one you've been expecting. This place is a bit safer to talk, but it doesn't mean we can speak freely. I have to disappoint you, but I am not here to lead you back to headquarters, you'll be tagging along with me for a while. Call it a vetting period."

Yasheira rolled her slender neck and then placed a hand on the nape of it, putting a bit of pressure. She had spent three days making the trip down the mountain alone and more than once she could swear she saw the dark wings of the bird spies, eyes of the Dark God Izrador, flying in circles up in the grey skies. The trek had been tense and she got little to no rest. Shei's eyes felt like they had sand in them and her body ached, hard tension on her neck and shoulders. The drink helped. She took another swig and licked the foam off her upper lip, continuing. "I imagine you may not feel comfortable about a younger agent watching over your work, but you must understand how careful we have to be with new people. I'm not a great fan of having to study you either, I work alone. We're gonna have to make it work. Tell me... are you staying here or somewhere else? If you have more questions, measure your words when speaking them here, or we can go somewhere to talk alone."

Truth be told, Shei didn't feel comfortable enough to be alone with the man, pleasant mannered though he seemed to be, but The Drowned Cat's owner was merely a sympathizer, not a member, and not everyone who frequented his place was in the know of what kind of people lurked behind the scenes. In a world where your neighbor will rat on you for a few more scraps, you had to be careful who might overhear what you say, blasphemous insurgency like the Rebel's dealings especially so. In any case, push comes to shove, she has a dagger or two hidden in her clothes and poison in the silver ring on her hand.
 
Victor nods to the story at hand as it gave him some time to think. "Mhm. That may be the case. But the thing here is that both of us are endangering our lives here, drinking the liquids we were given. It is, after all, a possibility that our have been poisoned by our bartender. He is not really a fully sworn rebel, is he? So he is still a potential threat." He said, though he gains the idea that he has been showing a bit too suspicious activity towards her.

With this thought in mind he nods, with his smile fading. "Anyway. Let us get down to business, shall we? He asked, smiling as he listens to her short introduction.'Shei, huh? I suppose I should keep that name in mind for a while,' he thought for a moment.

He raised his eyebrow when he heard what she said about her being his overseer of some sort. "Hm? Well I can't blame your leaders for that perspective towards newcomers, as you can't afford getting some backstabbers in your group." He said to her, stretching his arms outward for a slow stretch.

Once his hands returned he talks again."Yes, I live in this city. I live at one of the... Somewhat moderate household. Existing at the border oft the slums. I suppose the town walls do provide some cover for my house." He said, wrapping one hand around a pint's handle to raise his pint up to his lips, allowing him to take yet an another sip. He soon puts the pint back down on the table, pushing it a bit away from himself. "I inherited it from my parents, while my big brother inherited the main legacy of our merchant father."

He ponders if he had any questions. "One question," he decided to say to her. "I have been given the understanding of that there is more than one leader Rebel leader in charge of the operations here. Correct or false?" He asked, tilting his head as he looks at her.
 
It could be a good sign that Victor was understanding of the fact Shei was going to be overlooking his work until she deemed him safe to take back to the Base. Too many civilians lived at Orun's Bones, too many families, too many children, they far outnumbered the number of actual rebel agents. If there was something that the Dark God wasn't known for was being merciful. No, Shei's responsibility here was great and even Victor's understanding was taken with a good deal of suspicion.

The rebel woman did look down at her mug when the man in front of her spoke of poison. Not that she thought it very likely, but so paranoid and careful she could be that Shei pushed her drink away to the middle of the table, suddenly losing her interest in it. The talk about having an actual home in the city was news to Yasheira, she had been briefed that the man was coming from a different rebel settlement, having been recommended by its leaders. "So this is like... a homecoming for you?"

A merchant son. Shei wondered how and why he got involved with the Rebels. Nowadays, short of being actual servants of Izrador, there was no better life a citizen could hope for than that of a sanctioned merchant. They enjoyed more wealth than most, even if still middle class compared to before the Dark God and his Veil severing the world from the other gods fell. To a woman like Shei, who came from the lowest dredges of society, it was a cushy life, not the kind to produce the impulses to create rebellion.

She chuckled darkly to his last question, saying. "Hold your horses there, rookie. You are on trial, no access to privileged information. For all you care we have a council of Channelers, Dwarf forgers, Dorn and Sarcosan for warriors, and Elves coming out of the wazoo. Let's get to your place and then we can discuss our next steps. " Not expecting any objections, Yasheira got up to leave the warm tavern into the cold, stormy night again.
 
Victor slowly nods at her first question. ''Yes, indeed. This is a sort of homecoming. Now you must be thinking: Why would a merchant's child want to fight for the rebels? It's simple: Circumstances. For now let's just say that few special people that were close to me was executed for missing their deadlines on their debts for too long. So I believe I've been wanting some payback for years now.'' He said, smirking. It was not a pure lie, as his family was executed for failing to pay their debts. The memories of the fateful day soon sunk back into Victor's memory, with him seeing them hanged in the gallows for everyone to be seen. It was a rainy the whole night after the execution, he remembers. Just like tonight is raining outside.

Victor gently shivers at the memory and sighs, grabbing his pint of ale to take yet an another sip from it, leaving it roughly half full. ''The memories still feel fresh, I must say...'' He explained quickly before putting the pint of ale back on the table. ''Anyway. So, where were we? Oh yeah. The question I gave you.'' He said as he now listened to what she has to say while surrounded by the sounds of people drinking, drinking, and talking. At the very least the air here was warmer than outside. After a moment of pondering he realized something. She does look a bit too beautiful to be a commoner, truth be told.

Victor nods, giving a slight sigh of disappointment once he heard her answer. Though after thinking about her wording for a while in silence he realized something, soon his disappointment disappeared from the facial expression of the man. ''Very well, though that does technically answer my question. You mentioned 'a council', which means you are lead by more than one person.'' He said sighing.''Anyway, off to other question. Where do you think it will be far safer for us to discuss about what is going to be my first task? Or in this case, our first task together?'' He asked.
 
Shei's harsh, indifferent expression softened the slightest bit at Victor's tale of his family. So many this day and age got to see their loved ones hung, the gruesome haunting sight of it lingering as they were left there to rot for weeks, pecked at by the crows, which seemed to be the only ones left in the skies beside the eyes of the Dark God, a warning for anyone foolish enough to defy the Shadow servants and Night Kings. It took very little to be considered "defiance" in the eyes of the greed those few afforded with power have grown into in the misery which followed the war and the century of Shadow dominion. Shei had known the ugliness that festers on affording such overwhelming power over your own kind. She would forever bear the scars to prove it.

"My sympathies..." Yasheira stated simply with a slight tone of compassion to her sultry voice. It was all the softness she allowed herself as she watched Victor physical reactions to the memories of the harrowing experience. She drank from her dark ale again, for a moment forgetting her paranoia, as he set down his mug and seemed to recover himself. The rookie's attitude was strange to say the least and his impatience with her lack of information on HQ after they have been talking for only a few minutes was borderline insubordination. Men... She was younger than him and a woman and the world hadn't changed very much on that area. It didn't matter. She knew her worth and there was a reason Tytus had picked her for this task. Victor would find out soon.

Shei scoffed amused at his statement that she had 'inadvertently' given up information over the leadership. She didn't correct him, though. Him thinking he knew something was better than she helping Victor zero in on snippets of information. He clearly had no faith in her abilities as a spy. It did put wood to the mounting bonfire of suspicion she had for the man. "As I said, this is not the place to discuss these things, pay attention, rook. Let's go and then we can talk further, but quit your notions that you'll get all answers to your questions tonight. You're on probation, and you'll know what you need to know when I deem you should know, yes?" At that, Yasheira stood up unceremoniously interrupting their chat. She swaggered over to where her cloak hung and fastened it about her shoulders, pulling up the cowl over her head an awaiting Victor to head out into the rain.
 
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