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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Apr 20, 2023 12:39:52 GMT -5
Morrigan heard everything as a little frog on Izzy’s shoulder - including the driver’s curt nature. If there was one thing that the charlatan was adept at spotting, it was shifty behavior.
Of course, they didn’t have to wait long for the inevitable ambush.
A group of ten brigands blocked their path, forcing the caravan to a halt. No sooner did they come to a stop did two of the Iskmleji’s retainers drag him out of his wagon kicking and screaming…
And the driver whirled around to point his crossbow right at Izzy.
That was Morrigan’s cue. They hopped off of Izzy’s shoulder while she feigned nonchalance - the driver flinched at the sudden movement, but who was really paying attention to some amphibian? He had greater things to worry about, like making sure the Iskmleji was apprehended properly and the pesky hired help was taken care of. The wizard was still nowhere to be found… the driver shrugged. The fellow had seemed shifty - perhaps they’d simply jumped ship. Made his job easier.
And it would make Morrigan’s reappearing act all the sweeter.
The good thing about being an attention whore was that it was easy for Morrigan to steal the show, keep all eyes trained on them. Those men with crossbows would be pesky, but the beginnings of a half-baked, reckless idea began forming in Morrigan’s mind. They didn’t bother planning ahead for these things - more difficult for an enemy to predict their next move if even they weren’t aware what it was going to be. But this was a delicate situation, one that would require forethought to make sure the Iskmleji wasn’t harmed in the conflict…
Oh, hell, who was Morrigan kidding?
They hopped up to one of the retainers holding the Iskmleji, stopping at his feet with a small ribbit. The retainer flinched, glancing down at the ground.
“It’s just some amphibian.” He grunted, kicking lightly in an attempt to shoo Morrigan away. “Go on, get.”
That was the moment that the frog disappeared in a puff of smoke and glitter, replaced with a rather bright and colorful fellblood, one that was currently pointing their arm right at the retainer, as if they were pointing a knife at him despite the fact they appeared, for all intents and purposes, unarmed.
“Gotcha.” Morrigan said with a wink.
And then they flexed their forearm and triggered the hidden mechanism of the blade contained in their wrist cuff.[1] The blade sprang out with a thin SHINK, piercing the retainer right in the neck.
And that was the moment everything descended into chaos.
The second retainer shoved the Iskmleji aside, drawing the wicked, curved scimitar from his side, wasting no time swinging at Morrigan. With another smooth movement, they retracted their blade, cartwheeling out of the way, tail darting out and slicing at his wrist with the concealed blade attached to it.[2,3]
They stood, spreading their arms in a blatant challenge. All eyes on me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for my next trick…I’m going to make this mercenary disappear!”
“Bastard… I’m gonna gut you like a fish!” The mercenary dove for them, driving their blade straight for Morrigan’s gut-
In a burst of gold, the tattoo on Morrigan’s neck disappeared, before appearing in the air five feet above the mercenary. And within seconds, Morrigan, too had disappeared - reappearing right where the scarab had been hovering, dropping right onto the mercenary’s shoulders.[4] Before the man could knock them off, Morrigan hooked their legs around his shoulders, flexing their arm to trigger the hidden blade once more. With a single, clawed hand, they grabbed the man’s cheeks, nails digging into his face while they held him still. With a wide grin on their face, they pressed the side of the blade to the man’s neck.
“Such a pretty face!” They called out to the watching men. Taunting. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to it, don’t you agree?”
They probably didn’t care about the life of one man in the grand scheme of things, but that didn’t matter. Morrigan just had to throw them off their rhythm.
That was their specialty, after all. 1. Desert Stinger 2. Prehensile tail 3. Dagger with pale ice enchantment- attached to tail 4. Spirit Walk
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on May 7, 2023 13:06:31 GMT -5
She barely felt it when Amphibigan hopped off her shoulder, but she makes sure that the person staring her down paid it no mind-- or at least as little mind as possible. If Izzy was non-plussed about her escaping frog.
"Sorry, mac, you wanna die? Just hang tight, okay, we got it allll under conrtol." she assures the Iskemleji, though he is far too busy being roughed-up to be convinced.
Fortunately, Morrigan is more than convincing enough for the both of them.
As the first of his retainers dies, the Iskemliji yells out in fear, and scampers back to the carriage interior, locking it behind him while the second one is sliced up by Morrigan's carefully placed hidden-blades.
It was more than enough of a distraction for Izzy to do what she needed to. As Morrigan holds the man hostage, all eyes on them, Izzy's rapier flashes out of its sheath and slices through the driver's throat. Choking on his own blood, he fires the loaded bolt, straight into the floor of the driver's well of the carriage, and slumps over.
Izzy shoves him the rest of the way out and onto the desert floor as she hops into the driver's seat and takes the reigns of the moderately spooked horses.
"HEY!" One of the mercenaries spots Izzy at the reigns and fires off a spell, faster than she can deflect it. It hits her dead centre in the chest-- and explodes into a wave of glitter. She blinks, and coughs, and then cackles wildly at the abject confusion of the mercenaries.
"Yeah, I wouldn't try that a second time if I were you," She calls out a warning, holding the horses steady with one hand while she starts to gesture with the other, a hand coming up to tap the blood-stained ring on one of her horns. Shaa's potent energy touches the back of her mind, filling her with the depth of his arcane power. She inhales slowly. "Now are you idiots gonna get out of the way, or will I have to run you down?"
"Don't just stand there, Kill th--!" the shouting is cut off as Izzy unleashes the spell, hardly waiting for the response. A wall made of stone[1] erupts from the earth directly under three of the mercenaries, launching them into the air with screams of surprise.
As the rest of the mercenaries start to converge their attack, Izzy snaps the reigns and takes off, forward. She leans out of the cart to hold her hand out to Morrigan as she passes, intent on hauling them into the driver's seat next to her, all while cackling wildly.
[1] Wall of Stone - Shaa's Eternity Ring
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on May 10, 2023 16:29:20 GMT -5
As Morrigan expected - taking the not-retainer hostage didn’t matter a damn to these men. Apparently, there was no honor amongst thieves, as the second that Morrigan pointed their scorpion’s stinger at the unfortunate thug, one of the men in the line aimed their crossbow right at Morrigan and the fool they were perched on, not a single ounce of hesitation in his features before he pulled the trigger.
With a smooth flick of the wrist, Morrigan maneuvered the desert stinger to block the projectile with almost viper-like movements.[1] Steel clanged against steel as the arrow clattered to the sandy ground, rendered useless. Morrigan smirked, raising an eyebrow at the mercenaries. “Is that really the best you can do?”
They were too busy gloating to stop the volley of six or seven that flew at them next.
With a strangled gasp, Morrigan unhooked their legs from the retainer’s shoulders before dropping themselves to the ground, letting him take the brunt of the damage as a meat shield. Not fast enough in time to avoid the arrow that embedded itself in the side of their torso.
“Ah, Dipl uz idd!”
Morrigan staggered from the force of the bolt, pain lancing up their side. It didn’t feel like it had pierced any major organs, but that was a small mercy compared to the sudden burning sensation that began to spread from where the tip of the bolt was embedded into their flesh, all the way outwards, until Morrigan felt woozy.
Poison.
No time to figure out what kind it was. Morrigan was in survival mode now, searching for their best exit to this spectacular shit show before they succumbed to the toxin. Their answer, fortunately, came in the form of Izzy - covered from head to toe in glitter that stained her hair bright magenta, and grinning like a madman where she’d commandeered the cart from the driver - holding a hand out for Morrigan to take as she drove by.
Morrigan didn’t hesitate to leap out and grab it.
The taller fellblood hauled them into the cart, throwing Morrigan unceremoniously into the seat next to her. Morrigan let out a hiss between clenched teeth as the crossbow bolt wound was jostled, though they hadn’t passed out quite yet. They were still in the game.
“Thanks for the save.” They huffed, wiping a bead of sweat off their brow. Izzy snapped at the reins once more, taking control of the horses as they made their dashing escape. Behind them, the raiders fired bolts at their wagon, embedding themselves into tarp, but none managed to land on driver or passenger.
Morrigan took the split second of safety to assess their wound. The poison had spread to their arms now, filling them with a rather unpleasant numbing sensation. Some kind of paralytic toxin… probably stinging puffer fish essence? Coupled with enough tranquilizers to knock out a dragon. The perfect cocktail to render someone unconscious without killing them. Whoever these raiders were, they intended to capture the Iskmleji alive.
It was woefully unfortunate for them, then, that they’d run afoul of two of the most batshit insane fellbloods this side of Zeinav.
“… Watch out.” Morrigan grunted. “They sting.”
There was no other way around it - they needed to clear this out of their system before they were sent to dreamland against their will. Morrigan’s right arm was already starting to lock up, but they could still move their left. Enough to grab hold of the bolt sticking from their torso and snap the wood, just enough that they could move around unencumbered but not removing the arrowhead just yet. Then, they grabbed the glass jar hanging from their side - they couldn’t move their hand well enough to open the lid, so they had to settle for smashing it against the side of the wooden bench, getting glass everywhere. The sharp fragments sliced at their palm, but it allowed them to get a grip on the creature that had been contained inside.
They grimaced. “Ugh. This is my least favorite part.”
They jammed the black bog leech against their other arm.[2]
The creature immediately did its job, sinking its fangs into Morrigan’s skin. The interesting thing about leeches from the Marsh Flats, Morrigan had learned, was that they somehow managed to isolate the poison from your bloodstream without sucking up any of the blood. Within seconds the paralytic began to clear, and Morrigan could begin to think straight again.
“What a rousing escape!” Morrigan turned to Izzy, clapping their hands together loud enough that their rings clicked from the noise. “You left them in the dust quite spectacularly.” They turned around to peek their head through the tarp, where the Iskmleji was still huddled on the ground, in a state of wild-eyed disarray but still unharmed.
Morrigan shot them a wink. “No need to fret, your majesty. Sit back, enjoy the view of the scenic route, and we’ll have you back on track in no time!”
The sound of stone crackling behind them made Morrigan wonder if they’d perhaps spoken too soon.
“Er, one moment.”
They let the tarp close, turning their attention to the road behind them. Raiders, atop giant beetle mounts - six or seven of them, still in hot pursuit of the wagon.
“Oh, shit.”
Three of them split off from the group, beetles scuttling up the rocky side of the ravine, running along their sides in an attempt to get closer to the wagon. They were behind, but not for long. And they were pursuing the wagon housing the Iskmleji with a vengeance. 1. Blade Dance 2. Black Bog Leech
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on May 18, 2023 23:59:32 GMT -5
Her wild laugh fades to a titter as she hauls Morrigan to safety. Mission success! "I got your back, Momo," She tries to toss Morrigan a lackidasical wink, but notices their pallor and clamminess that was simply not there but a few scant seconds before, when they had been holding the bandit fool hostage. "You alright?"
She'd love to look for longer to try and get a better eye on their condition, but she really has to be watching the road as she hikes the horses into a canter, charging at a dangerous pace through the pass. The horses were used to the desert, at least, but any sharp turns would have to be minded carefully, lest they careen and tip over the cart and their precious cargo. Though she spares Morrigan another glance "Least favourite? Why is-- AUGHAHAHAAA." Izzy laugh-cringes as she catches a glimpse of Morrigan attaching to their exposed skin a writhing slime-thing. "Yep, yeah, I can imagine why that might beee. SO NO, not alright then? Or maybe yes now?" She grimaces, glancing at one of the bolts from their foes sticking out of the wood seat beside her. Yikes. "So long as you don't die on me, I am a doctor of medicine in name only." that was to say, she had a fake certificate somewhere that was definitely and visually obvious that it was forged.
As Morrigan verifies the Iskemleji is safe, and also that they continue to have company, Izzy heaves a dramatic sigh. "Well, it's their fuckin' fault for not gettin' the dang hint, eh?" She mutters an arcane word under her breath as she looks to the high sandstone walls above them, eyes darting as she counted the spaces between certain stones to try and gauge the timing. Once she nods to herself, her hand flashes up and a streaming purple bolt[1] of energy fires from her palm, straight into the wall of the pass on the left, triggering a rockslide.
It's a narrow and near thing, but the pace of the carriage is what saves them from getting swept up in the rockslide-- the beetle riders on that side of the wall are not so lucky, mount and rider alike vanishing into the rubble, their screams lost in the cacophany.
Of course, this still left those on the right. "I really need to invest in a crossbow," she grunts, drawing out her rapier, one hand on the reins still as she wraps the leather around her forearm. "You wouldnt happen to have any bombs on you?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder as the riders on the right wall start to gain on them.
[1] Chaos Bolt
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on May 25, 2023 15:33:47 GMT -5
“Yep, peachy keen! I’ve got an arrowhead in my side and a leech on my arm but I’m in perfect health!” They snipped, their sarcasm lost against the roar of the wind, the grind of the wagon wheels, and the sound of horse hooves pounding against the ground. With the poison out of their system Morrigan was free to pry junior off of their arm. They pulled an empty vial from their bag, throwing the leech in there and capping it with a cork. That was one problem taken care of - their attackers, though, were a different matter.
The wagon wobbled dangerously at the rock slide that Izzy triggered. Morrigan clutched tightly to the tarp in a desperate bid to avoid getting flung every which way. They ducked and dodged a couple of stray rocks hurtling their way, a scowl on their face. “So many suitors! The Iskmleji must be awfully popular… I don’t know if I should be annoyed or jealous!” They cried, keeping their eyes on the riders to the right that Izzy hadn’t yet managed to take out with her spell.
They smirked, reaching into their canvas bag.
“I’d be a piss-poor alchemist if I didn’t!” They called back, rifling through piles upon piles of junk in search of one of their explosives - they’d been working on the design for a glitter bomb that packed more of a punch than their usual explosives…
Oh, shit.
I must’ve forgotten it in the wagon!
Morrigan chuckled nervously, trying to prevent from freaking out. They could fix this, surely there was something in this bag of junk that they could use. They had smoke bombs galore, venoms of all effect, health tonics, snake oil… aha! There was something they could use.
Morrigan pulled out a circular bottle of noxious green gas, a dangerous, high pressurized container whose contents seemed to be straining to escape.
“Oh, I could do you one better.”
Best to act like this had been their plan all along.
They turned, winding up their arm, which was still tingling from the last vestiges of poison in their bloodstream that was probably the result of a little minor nerve damage. “This one is for poisoning me!” They screeched, tossing the potion at the wall in front of the remaining riders.[1] Smoke blossomed from the shattered glass, an ugly green color that permeated the air, engulfing the riders in the cloud of gas. Morrigan could hear them sputtering and coughing as the substance filled their lungs, up until those sounds of pain turned into feral anger.
Ah, yes. The best part of fighting. The kind where Morrigan didn’t even have to lift a finger.
They leaned back in their seat, feeling very much like the cat who got the cream while the riders on their beetles turned their swords and crossbows against one another, brother in arms against brother. There was the sound of steel, and crossbow bolts flew through the air - through the cloud of smoke Morrigan thought they saw a body collapse to the ground, fallen off their beetle. If anyone were to examine the corpse later, they would notice the veins around his eyes bulging, and his muscles looking abnormally larger than they ought to have. A truly nasty elixir, but Morrigan didn’t have time for things like guilt or morals. If they didn’t wanna get poisoned then they shouldn’t go around poisoning people!
They turned to Izzy, triumphant. “I wouldn’t dally if I were you. That potion doesn’t last long… though I anticipate them killing one another in the next couple of seconds.” 1. Plague’s Pandemic
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Jun 4, 2023 20:55:41 GMT -5
"That's so great! I'm happy for you!" Izzy chirps, non-plussed at all by the sarcasam, if she even caught it at all. Which, she probably did, but was, as always, completely and totally unflappable.
"I say split the difference, what's it take to get on this guy's dance card?" Izzy cackles, a sound cut short as the wheel of the carriage hits a large rock, jostling them. "OW. BIH MY THUNG."
Completely. Unflappable.
All that was soothed though the moment Morrigan confirmed they had bombs on hand. Which was fantastic news for Izzy, given that she was doing her best to keep driving the horses, who were panicked and snorting steam, as hard as their hooves could carry them. In the carriage behind them, she can hear the Iskemleji yelp in pain where he is being viciously bounced around in his carriage. The contract didn't say anything about damaged goods, right?
She takes a quick moment to glance over her shoulder at their gaining enemies, before facing front again, grinning and gritting her teeth at the same time. Morrigan makes a tight laugh beside her, which is... disconcerting. [colo=red]"Got whatcha need in that pack o' yours, ol friend, ol buddy, ol pal of mine?"[/color]
Even Izzy has to arch an eyebrow when Morrigan promises to do one better than the bombs, revealing something that looks like sepsis in a bottle. The grin splits her face as Morrigan chucks it behind them into their pursuers, unveiling a plume of noxious gas that Izzy can only do her damndest to drive away even faster from. She had no idea what Morrigan had just tossed behind them, but it didn't sound especially pleasant, and Izzy had some self-preservation instincts to speak of.
"YEAH! FUCK ALLA Y'ALL!" Izzy curses, making rude gestues around the edge of the carriage so their pursuers could ostensibly see them (they were preoccupied). There were truly not many left, if any but they could lose them a bit easier now, before they had a chance to regroup. Izzy aims her finger and fires, with a click of her tongue, at the wall opposite them as they pass, another bolt of energy[1] arcing through the air to strike the sandstone wall.
It crumbles behind them; it's not as much of a near thing as it was the first time, but now it was to serve the purpose of obstructing the path of anyone who might still be kicking, or any of their friends, for as long as they could.
Cackling wildly, Izzy-- covered head to toe in glitter which is leaving a faint, shimmering trail behind them as they flee-- grins at Morrigan. "THAT WAS GREAT! Seriously though, you're like. Bleedin'."
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jun 9, 2023 20:04:18 GMT -5
Morrigan, with all of their short stature and utter lack of actual strength, was nearly thrown off the wagon when it bumped into a rock. It was only their tail wrapping around Izzy’s torso that prevented them from getting thrown onto the ground and mashed into a bloody pulp against the rocks. Izzy, who’d been mid-sentence, was not spared damage as she bit into her tongue quite violently, from the sounds of it. Even in the thick of battle, Morrigan couldn’t resist reaching into their bag and offering Izzy a tonic that sparkled far more than a normal potion rightfully should. But given the fact that Izzy had seen several of Morrigan’s own concoctions in the past, she would know that was par the course for the charlatan’s elixirs.
“Here.” They snickered. “A healing tonic, for your woes.”[1]
If Izzy were to drink it, she’d be filled with the sensation of healing light, enough to genuinely believe that her tongue might have been fixed. In reality, it would give her a gruesome stomach-ache from all of the ingredients that definitely should not be included in a tonic. Morrigan had to hold back a laugh the entire rest of the way through the canyon, their mirth only growing as the rest of their attackers started turning on one another, as Izzy shot a bolt of magic at the wall to cause a cave-in between them and their would-be attackers, who had woefully and rather embarrassingly been prevented from claiming their kill by the two cackling fellbloods.
Morrigan and Izzy laughed triumphantly all the way through the rest of the canyon, making their way to safety - Izzy, covered in glitter, and Morrigan, plastered in their own blood, but both alive and victorious. A victory that felt all the much sweeter for having been paved in bullshit.
Morrigan turned to Izzy, only belatedly remembering their own injuries. The fellblood stared down at their torso, where the arrowhead was still sticking out, before shrugging. “A little death never killed a wizard!” They shouted over the sound of the grinding wheels, Izzy’s laughter, and the Iskmleji’s terrified screams in the back of the cart. They didn’t stop, not even when the threat was supposedly taken care of. They needed to get the fuck out of here and get the Iskmleji to safety, pronto. Morrigan dug through their bag and downed a healing potion like a shot before tossing the glass onto the ground behind them as the wagon sped away, out of the canyon and back into the great open desert.[2]
It didn’t really do much to heal the wound, but they’d just have to pull themselves together until they were out of this. They patted Izzy on the shoulder, flashing her a thumbs up. “Great driving skills, Issala ‘Izzy’ Arodre! I dare say we’re out of the thick of it… though I do lament the fact that the rest of the Iskmleji’s crew turned out to be traitors. Speaking of…”
They turned back to the wagon, tossing open the tarp. “Congratulations, oh Venerable Iskmleji! Your life has been saved by myself and my companion. The least you could do is give us the courtesy of trusting us with the reason you’ve got all these nasty sickos after you, hmm?” They, of course, had an inkling of why mercenaries might be after the corrupt member of the Sultan’s inner circle. But they wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. 1. Morrigan Moonweaver’s Malady Cure-all (offered to Izzy) 2. Potion of Minor Healing(1/2)
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Jun 18, 2023 17:21:24 GMT -5
Izzy was many things, but she was no fool. She knew that the sly look on Morrigan's face spoke ill, that the faint snicker in their voice as they handed her a potion far too sparkly to be ingestible without consequences, that it was surely another one of their less-than reputable concoctions that they sold to those who were unsuspecting and easily distracted by the shiny.
For her part, Izzy just liked to do things for the hell of it.
And so, without question, she take the potion Morrigan offers, pops the cork, and throws it back like a shot, all in one go. "Aaah, thank you! That feels better already!"
And it did! Sort of. Only now it was not quite sitting well with her stomach. Though that was to be expected, how much glitter was in this exactly?
But as they exit the canyon and Morrigan heals theirself (sort of), Izzy concurs that what they needed to do now was get off the beaten path and get out of dodge. She does slow the horses, a little, who are grateful for the reduced pace. Wouldn't do to have the creature's hearts exploding on them now. She gives Morrigan a bright grin at their praise, tipping them a wink. "And a fine bit of distracting and wizardry from you as well, O Great Wizard of the Wastes! I couldn't have done it without you." She keeps them on an odd weaving path, hoping to avoid any tracking, as Morrigan speaks with their esteemed passenger.
The Iskemleji looks disheveled and absolutely beside himself when Morrigan pulls back the corner of the heavy tarp to look at him. He had been bounced, knocked about, and his belongings were absolutely everywhere-- including the blood of his former aides, one of whom was still very much dead and laying in the interior of the cabin itself. "I don't-- you must believe me, I have no idea what those-- those PEOPLE could possibly want with me! My own men just tried to have me killed!"
"Sounds like a inside job!" Izzy quips, knowing full well that it was. "Explains why your aides wanted people for so cheap. And why they hired out instead of using people from Corps to guide you. Unless this mission was..." she spares a moment to glance over her shoulder at the nervous young man. "Off the books~?"
The man's expression pales, and he looks between Izzy (who has already returned her attention to the road) and Morrigan, who is smiling at them, cat-like, feeling very much like a trapped mouse. "What... who... is this about Abbas? My former officer?" His expression was slowly becoming wild, desperate. "I knew I shouldn't have but--but he told me to, he-he-he said it was for the Sultan! I had no reason to not believe him!"
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jun 20, 2023 10:49:22 GMT -5
“Oh? He told you to, didn’t he?” Morrigan leaned forward, putting a hand to their cheek not unlike a sympathetic friend listening to some bits of juicy gossip. And how interesting this development was! Whatever the Iskmleji had done to earn such a violent and under the table hit, this gruesome betrayal from his own men, hadn’t been of his own accord by his own testimony. But was this the truth, or an attempt to save his own skin? Either way Morrigan thought they were dealing with a veritable fool. Whether it was cunning or patriotism, he’d been stupid enough to get caught. “And if all your friends jumped off a bridge, I suppose you would too?” They laughed. “Oh, wait. They can’t, because they’re all dead around you right now.”
The Iskmleji remained silent.
“It’s okay, you can tell us.” Morrigan coaxed with a cackle that sounded less like a reassuring friend and more like a promise to the gallows. One one hand, the Iskmleji faced death from men he had once trusted, men he wanted to help. On the other, he faced threat of a couple of sharp-teethed and sharp-tongued fellbloods who clearly had a few screws loose in their head, and had no qualms about killing should the job require it. Death from the sultan or death from the madmen.
He chose the lesser of two evils.
“Do you promise to protect me in the event this happens again?”
“That’s what you pay us for, isn’t it?” Morrigan waved their hand, getting glitter all over the Iskmleji’s face and in his mouth, forcing him to let out a stuttering cough. Glitter stuck in the blood of his dead attendants, giving the interior of the wagon a rather sparkly and macabre appearance. “Listen. If somebody wants you dead, they’re going to find a way to make you dead. But if you like keeping that pretty little head attached to your shoulders, then you’ll tell my associate and I what we want to hear, so that we can adequately protect you.”
And steal his information, but that was neither here nor there.
“At this point, what do you have to lose?”
The Iskmleji glanced down at the still-shimmering corpses of his dead companions.
“… Fine. I’ll tell you what you wish to know.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Morrigan clapped their hands together before producing a slip of parchment from their bag and a quill that they handed to the Iskmleji. “Now, if you don’t mind signing at the dotted line that you’d like to upgrade to the Wizard of the Wastes Platinum Protection Package, which comes with a free confidentiality clause,” Unless you paid attention to the fine print which stated that client-wizard confidentiality only lasted twenty-four hours, “A complementary gift bag at the end, and a tiny, minuscule fee of about 200 solars for the upgrade.”
“Two hundred solars! This is a scam!”
“Ah, ah, ah!” Morrigan clicked their tongue, wiggling their finger in the air. “That’s the cost of living, my friend.”
It looks could kill, Morrigan probably would have been killed a hundred times over from the venom that dripped from the Iskmleji’s expression, realizing that he’d been backed into a corner. He signed the paper hard enough to tear it and handed it back to Morrigan, who primly folded it up and turned to Izzy.
“Well, would you look at that? Turns out you can put a price of life. Two hundred solars.” They snickered. “Not the highest if you ask me.”
“You’re a bastard.” The Iskmleji spat.
“The bastard standing between you and any of the sultan’s assassins that have been sent to dispose of you for this perceived treason.” They threw another wave of glitter in the air, unbothered by the rather uncreative insult. “Now, are you going to tell my associate and I what we want to know? Who exactly is this Abbas fellow?”
Defeated, the Iskmleji sighed. And then he opened his mouth and began to speak.
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Jun 29, 2023 0:43:41 GMT -5
Izzy scoffs at the Iskemleji's incredulity regarding the amount of Solars in Morrigan's contract. "Maaan, your retainers said you were a cheapskate. Aren't you technically royalty, my guy?"
But beyond that little quip, Izzy buttons up; a good investigator knew when to allow the mark to fill in the gaps for them with a well placed silence. Aside from that, Morrigan has this well in hand-- entertainingly so, seamlessly pivoting through protestations with irrefutable facts that the Iskemleji could not truly deny, not in the predicament he was currently in. Besides; was it not drip or die in the desert?
The Iskemleji sighs, looking both pained and ashamed. "Abbas was... my superior officer. He was an older Leftenant in the Corps, and as his Iskemleji, at his age, it meant I was given a rather comfortable position, all things considered. His main duties included escorting small caravans to the Capitol, which was a responsibility he eventually gave to me. Only... he asked me to make a couple of stops along the way." The Iskemleji fidgets with the ends of his beard for a tense moment.
"There is a gang in King's Valley that Abbas had been paying off for decades to procure certain illegal goods that I shan't name because I specifically requested not to know about it. I don't know how it all got started, it was before my time, but I got roped into the whole thing with him because I was, as he put it, an accomplice now. He was arrested a few weeks ago for embezzlement, though I don't know who tipped off the auditors in the Capitol, but lets just say that it was enough money that we could be facing a Crown sanctioned occupation." He looks pointedly between Morrigan and the back of Izzy's head, knowing what that kind of scrutiny would do for a couple of miscreants like these two.
"In the meantime, now I have it hanging over my head to continue to pay off whatever debt or agreement my former officer had with this... this group."
Now, Izzy speaks up, intrigued. "How could you be on the hook for that? It's not like you signed anything, right?"
The Iskemleji grimaces. His silence says it all.
"...so you're just a pro at making bad life choices, huh?"
"ExcUSE ME." the Iskemleji sputters indignantly.
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jun 29, 2023 20:42:14 GMT -5
Morrigan’s nose wrinkled at the mention of a couple of crown stiffs poking their nose in Zeinavian business. Stupid embezzlers making everything all the more difficult for them to conduct their business…
Well. In Morrigan’s eyes, any crime was fine so long as you weren’t stupid enough to get caught at it. Abbas apparently hadn’t been clever enough to cook the books, and now it was everyone’s problem.
“Well. It seems, my friend, you’ve gotten yourself lodged between a rock and a hard place.” One where his only survival were a couple of greedy fellbloods who’d come sniffing out coin and information. Oh, wasn’t that the ultimate irony? In trying to save himself from this web he’d spun himself into trusting the wrong people, he’d put his faith in a couple of unpredictable, unscrupulous bastards.
Still, this posed an interesting problem for them. They’d gotten the dirt they were looking for, but now there was the matter of figuring out what to do from here. Morrigan’s tail flicked behind them, blood-covered blade glinting in the sunlight. “Oh, Master Iskmleji, what are we to do with you? Assuming your superior’s debts, peddling illegal substances against your will… oh, the humanity!”
They pretended to swoon at the scandalous thought, all the while a scheme brewing in their mind.
The Iskmleji, to his credit, held his tongue despite his obvious irritation at the wizard’s flair for the dramatic. “I didn’t expect anyone would send men after me! I just want to keep my head down and pay off the rest of Abbas’s debts so that I can live in peace.” Spoken with the true cowardice of someone who’d grown fat and happy in life until the point softness dulled any edges he might have possessed.
“A bit too late for that, isn’t it?” Morrigan murmured. “Alright. I’ve an idea. You want this band of Valley tribesmen off your back, yeah? There’s no shortage of bodies we left back there in the ravine. And in all that chaos, what if a stray arrow or rock happened to… hit its mark?”
“… But it didn’t hit its mark.”
“Precisely.” Morrigan winked. “But the three of us are the only ones privy to that knowledge, yes? Here’s the plan. We tweak the crime scene, put your robes on some sod with a mangled corpse.” There were plenty of them that were doubtlessly unidentifiable after they’d torn each other apart under the effects of the elixir. “It wouldn’t take much effort to make the people after you think they succeeded at the job. Then we secure you a safehouse down south.”
They pulled themselves into the cart, throwing their arm around the Iskmleji’s shoulder.
“Picture it. I’ve got property in the Crescent Isles you could stay in while you get your affairs settled. You live the peaceful island life while Miss Issala ‘Izzy’ Arodre and I take care of the fallout on our end. By the time anyone wizens up to the fact this might be a ruse, you’re already on the other side of the continent and sipping on sake to your heart’s content! All of your problems would just… melt away.”
And then, while the Iskmleji was sitting in Morrigan’s property, it would be all too easy for Morrigan and Izzy to go slithering back to her contacts and ‘tip them off’ to his hiding place. Yes, they could really make a profit here, and maybe even earn the Sultan’s death. They just had to lull the Iskmleji into a false sense of security…
“So, what do you say? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to grasp that comfortable life you so desire?”
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Jul 6, 2023 19:47:01 GMT -5
The more Morrigan talks to the poor Iskemleji, the more Izzy's smile resembles that of a shark that just scented blood in the water.
Now the way Izzy figured it, someone, somehow, would likely be on to their deceit, given the people who were currently scrutinizing the man for a variety of reasons-- the corruption of his former commanding officer and that he was partaking in semi-willingly. A member of the Royal family, even a lesser cousin, and the court itself? Someone was bound to investigate. They would find the body to not be that of the Iskemleji, and would conduct a manhunt. The man would not be any safer.
That said, the safety of the Iskemleji after their had gotten him to his destination wasn't Izzy's problem at all. In fact, if she was following the cut of Morrigan's jib, it put them squarely in a unique position to turn a fleeing fugitive who had faked his own death into the proper authorities.
And, unfortunately for the Iskemleji, he was more dubious of the pair of fellbloods than he was smart enough to think like them. And just like a stupid, stupid moth, he unwittingly fluttered toward the white-hot intensity of his doom.
"....I just want this to be over with," He sighs finally, carefully picking Morrigan's hand off his shoulder with only a faint grimace. "I want my name cleared. I'm related to the the Sultan, you know. I can only imagine what an embarrassment it would be for him. If... it isn't too much trouble." he looks furitively at the glittery fellblood from the corners of his eyes, clearly uncertain. "Can you make it seem like I died.... a hero?:
It is at that point that Izzy has to try so hard not to laugh that she nearly veers off the road, coughing violently to mask her wild cackles. "SORRY! PFFF-- SWALLOWED. A BUG. KAFF."
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jul 11, 2023 11:20:03 GMT -5
The Iskmleji did not respond for a long time - long enough that Morrigan thought perhaps they’d pushed his boundaries a bit too far, and he’d finally caught on that Morrigan was essentially taking the piss out of him by promising him exactly what he wanted to hear. But then the Iskmleji let out a resigned sigh, all the fight draining him at once. In the end it turned out he cared more about self-preservation and maintaining his fame and image than he did actually confronting his mistakes.
It took all of Morrigan’s self control not to lose their mind when he requested a hero’s death.
They put one hand on their chest and held the other in the air with the solemnity of someone who was making a promise they intended to hold to the grave. “Sir, trust me. You’re in good hands. My specialty happens to be making fools look like legends.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, merciful wizard, and kind lady! Wait, what…?”
“Oh, we’re gonna fake a murder, a murder, a murder…!” The tune Morrigan hummed to themselves as they skipped through the ravine of corpses sounded suspiciously like following the leader. They’d stopped the wagon a little bit away, perusing the corpses of the mercenaries they’d left behind. Most of them, who’d slaughtered each other under the influence of the potion Morrigan used, were nigh-indistinguishable with their faces mauled by human nails. Morrigan eyed each of them skeptically, assessing each corpse with criteria that only they understood, as they intermittently broke their song to click their tongue in disappointment and moved to the next body.
Eventually they found a corpse that looked serviceable enough, and they beckoned the Iskmleji over. “Alright, time to pony up, good sir. Time to strip!”
“W-What?” The Iskmleji’s face flushed a deep scarlet as he gripped his robes tighter around him.
“You didn’t think you’d get away with faking your death without leaving anything that might help identify the corpse as you, did you?” Morrigan laughed, snapping their clawed fingers together. “Come on, drop the robes!”
The Iskmleji looked no less reassured by this development. “Well, then, what am I going to wear?”
Morrigan wordlessly pointed down at the leather armor the corpse was wearing.
“Oh, gods, no…”
But there were no gods here. Only Morrigan, and they took particular delight in getting the opportunity to order the Iskmleji around in a humiliating way because they could. The once-proud nobleman shrugged off his fancy clothes, shuddering as he pulled on the plain clothes that Morrigan offered him with a shit-eating grin. “Man, you look like a different person already!”
The Iskmleji sniffed. “And how will you be arranging the body?” He asked, still focused on the promise that Morrigan made vis a vis his heroics. Morrigan glanced at the scene, an artist who was, true to their word, quite adept at making a buffoon look competent.
“It needs to be something believable. Something that paints you as a righteous savior. Picture this - the brave Iskmleji, ambushed by people for his treason, died a patriot. He defended his secrets to the end, triggering a cave-in within the ravine that took himself and his attackers out in one swift movement.”
“Is that it?” The Iskmleji seemed skeptical. “I was hoping for something a little more… daring.”
Morrigan shrugged. “I’m working with what I have here, Master Venerable Iskmleji. Now, just give me a bit of time…”
It took an hour with Izzy’s help and the aid of a pair of enchanted gauntlets to arrange rocks over the fake-Iskmleji corpse and the mercenaries until only the Iskmleji’s feet were poking out, the last sign he’d ever lived and died at all.
“What in the world did you need my robes for?”
“Hush, now. Do not question the master.” Truth be told Morrigan just really wanted to divest him of his clothes along with his money. A nice little cherry on top of the scummy cake. Once their work was done, they wiped a bead of sweat off their brow and turned to Izzy, sweeping their hands over the scene. “Well? How does it look? Convincing enough for the Zeinavian guard? Can we declare the Iskmleji officially dead?”
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Post by Issala 'Izzy' Arodre on Jul 17, 2023 23:15:26 GMT -5
"Gonna fake a muuuurder, cuz home ya caaaannot go!" Izzy sing-songs alongside Morrigan, twirling a shovel through her fingers like a conductor's baton. Always a good idea to bring an implement with you when dealing with corpses, even those that had been left to rot in the sun.
She follows Morrigan around like this, as though leading a parade of the damned while they inspected the bodies for suitability criteria that she could only guess at. Finally, though, they land on one, and the Iskemleji seemed none-too-pleased about what they would have to wear. Izzy leans on the shovel like a jaunty cane, grinning at him rakishly. "Now, sir, really, you hired professionals! We're not about to half-ass this sort of delicate undertaking, you get the full treatment! It's what you paid for! Dead means dead, not 'rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated', come on now!" She chews the end of her cigar, a wild grin plastered over her face as she takes in the scene gleefully.
Morrigan was quite masterful at the whole thing, quite honestly. If Izzy didn't know better (which was debatable), she might almost think Morrigan Moonweaver had done this before.
She rolls the cigar from one end of her mouth to the other as she watches closely, helping through the elaborate process of creating a scene of a sort, something to really give any investigators a thing or two to think on. She's silent save for a few giggles through the work, chiming in when the Iskemlji questions the validity of removing his robes when... they ostensibly were fine not being removed if they were just going to bury the body; "Makes you look like you died giving the shirt off your back to some poor person!" Izzy flings the back of her hand against her forehead, a perfect mockery of the tragedy before them. "Generous and selfless to the last! Whoever has it clearly was one of the people you helped to escape! A true hero!"
The Iskemlji looks dubious, still, but a little more convinced.
She walks around the fruits of their labour with a careful eye, nodding to herself and stroking her chin. "I think that'll do the trick! Lots of bodies, a man who can't be identified. And for added kick..." she leans up to scale the wall a little adjusting some of the rocks above the ravine so if any of the smaller rocks below were moved, it would make the cave in that much worse. "Just in case anyone tries to excavate the body for further investigations. Alright." She hops down and claps her hands together. "To the cabin in the Isles then?" she waggles her brows at the pair of them.... mostly Morrigan, though.
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Post by Morrigan Moonweaver on Jul 23, 2023 10:09:55 GMT -5
It was admittedly difficult for Morrigan to keep a straight face throughout this business while Izzy was backing them up, spewing bullshit about professionalism and how this was what he’d hired them to do and sounding exquisitely proper while she did so, munching on her cigar. Idly, Morrigan wondered if they should include her in their next lawyer scheme. Yes, that would be quite perfect. Perhaps Moonweaver and Moonweaver would have a new associate soon. And the fact that she’d even joined in on their ridiculous singing without even missing a beat was utterly glorious!
… Huh. Was this what having a like-minded friend felt like?
While Izzy smooth-talked the Islmleji into buying all the bullshit that Morrigan was throwing at him, the Charlatan started making preparations for island travel. It was a bit too risky for all of them to keep going to Morrigan’s property, especially considering how suspicious it would look for Morrigan and Izzy to leave the country when they were planning on selling this man out to the royal guard. The good news was that Bubbles was trained in the location of Morrigan’s time-share - a precaution. They didn’t even take their wagon down there when they needed to visit. They trusted the Drake would be able to cart the noble to the intended location with the proper speed and stealthiness.
When Izzy finished meddling with the rock, they got on their toes and reached up to snatch her cigar, a look of mischief on their face as they took a drag, inhaling smoke and somehow even more glitter into the air before they handed it back to the taller fellblood. When they turned to the Iskmleji, they threw an arm over his shoulder once more and directed him to the Drake.
“Now, if you don’t mind me saying, trusted associate and venerable charge… it might be more beneficial if we were to split ways here. You see this dragon? This here is my noble and daring steed, the scourge of the sands. Bubbles here knows the top-secret location of my Crescent Isles safehouse, and can get you there far faster overhead than we could over land and sea. While you’re getting there, that gives us the opportunity to play damage control and make sure everything progresses smoothly on our end, does it not my friend?”
That last part was spoken with a pointed look at Izzy, one that said, I’m about to end this man’s entire career.
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