"Are you ready Sir Orpheus, to fight side by side as we bring his majesty's swift justice upon these cowardly villains. We will drive them out from wherever their hiding." Lambert says with a magnificent gesture of pride and self-assurance.
Even Orpheus could not deny his grandeur. "Ready as I'll ever be." He replies with a false expression of noble intentions. They both turn and exit the council room, heading down the hallway. Reaching the end, they both turn left to the doorway to the outside. Walking through and down the stairs.
Making their way across the front pathway, they eventually reach the open gate. Five soldiers all on horseback, along with two extra horses await them. Orpheus and Lambert both mount their horses, Lamberts a jet-black horse, and Orpheus mounts a grey one. "Now Orpheus we will follow your lead. What manner of magic shall track our prey?" Lambert states atop his mount with sheer reverence in his voice.
"Basic object tracing spell should lead us directly to them." He returns Lambert's gaze and replies with equal confidence in his words and abilities. "The spell manipulates the user's sense of direction, provides you with an instinctual sense of where the object is." He further explains the magic to Lambert and his soldiers. He then closes his eyes, concentrating for a moment. An image of his staff flashes before his eyes, and he calms his mind focusing. "Vestigium Objectum." Chanting the spell his eyes burst open as an odd feeling washed across his senses. Like a magnetic attraction, he experiences a sensation slightly tugging his body to the southwest. "This way gentlemen!" Shouting as he turns his head to the waiting soldiers. Kicking his heels and spurring his horse into action. Holding on tight to his reins, the horse gallops forward at great speeds. Lambert and his soldiers follow immediately down the street towards the unknown.
In the blackness of night, a hooded figure wielding a staff arrives at a stone building. It is roughly two stories high with a single metal door on the front and no windows. In the surrounding area are several other similar buildings on the side of a narrow dirt street. The area looks run down if very little maintenance on the buildings was done. Other figures can be seen littering the area, wearing tattered clothing as if homeless. Standing in back alleyways or sitting in the street. The hooded figure moves towards the door, knocking several times. He waits before turning his head to the moonlight, revealing himself.
The figure is revealed as the assassin that assailed the royal estate, welding Orpheus's stolen staff. Cloth still concealing the bottom half of his face. After a few moments, the door swings open revealing a hulking man on the other side. He is bald with green-greyish eyes, six and a half feet tall, wearing a dark grey tunic and appearing very muscular. "You have business." The man states in a deep husky voice.
Ignoring the minor provocation, the assassin is unfazed. "I'm here to see the great sage is he in?" The assassin replies with a much higher tone of voice than the doorman.
The doorman's eyes widen slightly. "Yes, he is expecting you... please come in." He opens the door wide and gestures for the assassin to enter. His left hand pointed down the hallway. The assassin moves forward entering the establishment. "He's in the back room." The doorman says, crossing his muscular arms and tilting his head downwards slightly.
"Thank you." The assassin replies with a slight nod as he enters the room.
The room is large with a small bar indented on the left side. A bartender stands just behind, pouring a bottle of wine into several glasses. To the right is two round tables, each littered with several inebriated men holding glasses of wine. Some are seated and others standing. Surrounding them are attractive scantily clad women, pouring them drinks with several seated on their laps.
On the back wall is a small wooden door leading to a room with smoke, seeping out of the seams. To his immediate right is a staircase leading to the top floor. The assassin pays the environment no mind and continues through to the back room. Just before reaching it about halfway, he is abruptly stopped by an inebriated man. The man lightly brushes his left shoulder against the assassin.
The man attempts to walk across the room behind the assassin, the action causes him to spill his drink from the mild jostling. "Hey watch where you're going, hedge-born!" The man has short blonde hair, and green eyes and is wearing a fine dark red doublet. He turns to the assassin and begins insulting him. The assassin stops for a moment turns his gaze behind him, and continues forward as if to disregard the man's sheer presence. The well-dressed man's eyes burn with fury, reaching out his right hand to grasp the object of his wrath. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" He continues to rave to the clearly disinterested assassin.
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The assassin turns around to acknowledge his presence, only to disregard him. "I don't have time for this." He states before pushing away the man's hand from his shoulder, turning around and continuing towards the door.
The man undeterred takes a sip of his drink, splashing a little bit on his tunic, staining the collar. "Don't have time for me huh, maybe I'll make some time for your mother. I hear she's quite the doxy, isn't that right boys!" The man continues his insulting rave, turning to the disinterested crowd that barely acknowledges his statement.
The assassin hearing his words flashes an expression of anger. He turns to the man and places his piercing and intense gaze upon him. He then moves forward as the man is distracted. Lifts the staff and rams into his stomach. He drops his glass and it shatters on the ground, kneeling over in pain.
The assassin then pulls back the staff and presses it against his chest. Pushing him back against the bar and locking him in place. Withdrawing a dagger with the blade facing downwards, he swiftly places it against his neck. "You... You speak about my mother again; I'll cut your throat and leave you to die outside in the street. Like the vermin you are." With the blade firmly pressed against his neck, his expression morphs to fear. His knees start to shake uncontrollably. "Do you understand?" The assassin continues to threaten him, and the man fearing for his life nods swiftly and repeatedly to show his understanding.
He then releases him from his grasp, the man quickly runs for the exit. The doorman opens the exit and allows him to leave, shutting the door behind him. "Goodbye Lord Brandley please come again anytime." The doorman states in a much lower tone of voice than normal. He turns to the assassin giving him a slight wink. The assassin turns back and makes his way to the door, grasping the doorknob he opens the door.
He is greeted by a similar-sized room, enclosed with no windows. It is dark and dank with decorated maroon-coloured pillows scattered around in a circle. In the centre is a small rectangular table with a circular board and several crystals scattered around. In the centre is a man seated at the table in a cross-legged position on the ground.
He is wearing a white-grey heavy cloak, a short brown beard and hair. His eyes are a greyish colour and he is happily smoking an opium pipe. "You... are the great sage?" The assassin asks with a monotone voice and an expression of disbelief.
"Yes, my child it is I the great sage... Are you the gentlemen of which I have business with?" The great sage asks with a slow but flamboyant tone of voice. His gaze moves upwards towards the assassin.
Still perplexed, the assassin shrugs off this feeling before speaking. "Yes, I have the item you requested but was unable to complete the contract fully." Raising the staff to present it, the great sage takes another puff of his pipe.
Tilting his head to the side, he shrugs his head shoulders. "Oh well, then I guess you will receive only half of the payment. I am a reasonable man, hand over the staff and I'll pay for that aspect of the job and you can go and complete the rest. In your own time of course." The great sage gestures for the staff, placing his pipe down. He then picks up a bag of gold from under the table. The assassin moves forward to exchange the staff for the gold.
"There is half I believe.” Handing over the god, he eagerly awaits his prize. “Oh, my Drenara, this is truly a wonder to behold.” His eyes widen, and he traces his vision across the staff. “The ancient magus king Hagavard himself used this wonderous staff. It is said it grants a mage immeasurable power. Hagavard used this very tool to conquer most of the continent, with armies of the undead." Monologuing, he caresses the staff, moving his fingers across the runic symbols carved into it. Feeling the staff his expression quickly changes from awe to concern and then fear.
Observing a strange emanation from the staff only he can see. "No, no there's a tracking spell, they could be here already!" He starts to panic, using his right arm to wipe away the crystals from the table. The assassin draws his sword and turns his gaze to the front door. The great sage holds the staff with two hands horizontally just above the table. He begins to concentrate, showing the great mental strain.
With his eyes closed the great sage begins to pour magical energy onto the table. It begins to shimmer with an ethereal glow, he then starts to chant a spell as he lowers the staff a few centimetres. "Veni Forth Porta." A small portal manifests just above the table. It is roughly the same size as the table, being a metre wide but circular.
He readies to drop the staff in, but before he can, a loud crashing sounds from the front. Turning to face the sound, the assassin doing the same. The front door is smashed open as if a large explosion went off in the centre. The door's structure is mangled and twisted, resting on the floor. The doorman is laid out a few feet away, only now barely lifting himself up, shaking his head from side to side. He turns his gaze to the outside seeing Orpheus, Lambert and several soldiers.
"Good evening gentlemen." Orpheus greets with a polite tone, retracting his outstretched hand, and gesturing towards the destroyed door.