Gleeful visage stands before a man, confounded about the sudden turn of events, standing up straight Sevran's gaze gleams with intrigue and confusion whilst cast upon Orpheus wearing noble attire. A foreign sight to the well-trained senses of an elite assassin still reeling from the discovery he has since fallen upon, Orpheus smiles as he paces forward and situates himself directly in front, almost a metre between them. Sevran's lips begin to stretch as he arches his head to the left and gazes darting to the right, his neck revolving around until face to face. He smiles sarcastically as he begins to speak with a slight chuckling undertone. "Well, that's a neat trick hey Orpheus?"
Orpheus lets out a slight chuckle as well before smirking mischievously and commenting on the question put towards himself. "You like it? It's not my greatest trick, yet not my worst." Orpheus states as his gaze flick downwards and inspect his clothing, his tone sarcastic yet still serious. Lifting his cold blue eyes and his smug, gleefully smirking face, Sevran chuckles for a moment, shaking his as he exhales a deep breath.
"What are you up to Orpheus and why the new look?" Sevran speaks as he curiously inspects every facet of Orpheus's clothing and overall appearance. As he waits for a prompt response from his old friend, he witnesses Orpheus turn to the left and circle around behind him and towards the balcony rail. Turning his body with his gaze fixed to him, Sevran watches as he presses his palms against the balcony and peer's down.
His eyes widen as he gazes at the deceased man laid out behind some shrubbery in the garden below, his bent and mangled body, hidden just out of sight. "I would love to regale you but from the looks of it, we don't have much time for a drink and a chat." He states as he raises his head and turns his gaze to the left and behind him towards Sevran. With his left eyebrow raised and a sarcastic look in his eyes, Orpheus smirks at the current events prompting Sevran to lower his gaze to the balcony and tilt his head to the left in agreement. "You are correct my old friend time is a factor until they discover the body and then I will have to bid you farewell." He says with a slightly sarcastic but light-hearted tone; his statement prompts Orpheus to turn back to the balcony and lower his gaze once more in contemplation.
His eyes begin to widen as if a discovery begins to pulsate within his thoughts, with his gaze affixed to the corpse below, he rises and turns to his friend once more with a smile. "If there is not enough time for a proper drink between friends, perhaps I should obtain some more." He speaks with a monotone voice followed by an enlightened smile attained from the knowledge of coming events. Sevran responds with a confused expression as Orpheus returns to the outlook from the balcony and stares at the night sky for a few seconds, exhaling a deep breath he begins to speak. "Subcinctus Egomet" In a flash he vanishes into thin air, Sevran viewing this feat is unfazed by his sudden disappearance, his gaze turns slightly to the right as he clicks his tongue as if waiting for his return.
Down in the garden below, a whiff of air encircles like a small vortex on the opposite side of the shrubbery with the corpse of Lord Ecbert behind it. As the vortex disperses Orpheus appears and lands directly on his feet a few centimetres above the ground with a soft thud. With his physical body reasserted he steps forward and leans over the thick shrubbery to the corpse below, the body is mangled with his left leg and right arm twisted and cracked, his neck contorted with think abrasions surrounding it.
Orpheus puts his right hand forward with his palm facing downwards, his hand glides from left to right as he chants a spell. "Praestrigiae Concelo" With a simple wave of his hand a slight ethereal wave begins to emanate over the body, travelling from his feet to the top of his head, the body vanishes into a transparent hue. "There we go, that's better," Orpheus states with a smirk before looking upwards to the balcony above as Sevran looks down at him, he raises his right hand with his palm facing Sevran above and begins twiddling his fingers as a greeting. "Subcinctus Egomet" He chants once more as he vanishes and reappears on the balcony with his back facing Seran leaning over the balcony, Sevran rises and turns to face him, Orpheus turns as well before speaking to his old friend. "Now how about that drink?"
Orpheus speaks as he raises his right palm and waves it across his face, as it glides across, his appearance transforms in an ethereal wave, his face, eyes and hair all change to the spitting image of Lord Winthrope. With his new visage he steps forward towards Sevran as he leans against the balcony, he gestures his right hand towards the entrance to the gala. Sevran turns his gaze once more to the garden below, lingering for a moment and returns to speak. "I guess a few drinks won't hurt." He states with a smile on his face before following Orpheus into the gala. Moving towards the entrance with Sevran trailing behind, his ring that graces his right hand begins to glow and shimmer, Sevran's body vanishes into a transparent presence. "I'll meet you on the right-side wall, get us some wine, will you?" A disembodied voice radiates from thin air, spurring Orpheus to turn his head to the left, witnessing Sevran's lack of presence.
Orpheus merely smiles at this incident as if he had become used to people vanishing from sight. "Sure." He says with a smirk on his face and arched eyebrows denoting a faint flicker of surprise in his voice. Turning to the entrance he enters the gala, upon leaving the cold night air of the outside, an influx of warmth permeates the room, the night almost turns to day as the flickering lights and opulent chandeliers illuminate the four corners of the massive ballroom. With his gaze affixed to the large crowd, he slowly moves through the spiralling grandeur of noble men and women dotting the indoor landscape. To his left, he passes a dance floor surrounded by conversing people along with several couples dancing in the centre. As he continues passing through the crowd a man holding a silver tray with several filled wine glasses crosses his immediate path.
Signalling to the gentlemen with his right hand, the servant stops his advance just in front and presents the trey for his inspection. "Refreshments my lord?" The servant asks with a seemingly genuine smile upon his face, his smile although appearing real still reveals a faint sense of falsehood. Paying no mind, the disguised Orpheus grasps two glasses in both his hands and pulls them from the tray, with a gentle and sincere nod, the servant vacates his presence quickly. As he quickly leaves with his head slightly nodded to the ground as if afraid, Orpheus stops in his tracks and internally ponders this recent event. "Hmm was it just me or was that young man afraid of me." With his eyebrows arched once more, he ponders the servant's reaction to him. "Hmm... I guess Lord Winthrope is not the most pleasant noble, particularly to servants... oh I love it when my victims have it coming." A faint smile protrudes from his smug and satisfied face as he continues forward.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Traversing the distance Orpheus reaches the right-side wall near a small open archway to another section of the room, the wall is unoccupied a most of the guests a spread out near the centre. Reaching the wall, he turns and places his back against whilst comfortably leaning back as he grasps the still full wine glasses. He waits for a moment before hearing faint footsteps to his right, exiting the archway is Sevran now visible, he turns to the left and situates himself to Orpheus's left-side against the wall. Reaching with his right hand he claims the wine glass from Orpheus's right hand and takes a small sip of its contents. With both of them facing forward as they lean against the wall; Orpheus begins to speak in a cold and distant tone. "So, Lord Ecbert of Sparrington has just been taken out of play and off the board... permanently."
Sevran listens intently as he fiddles with his wine glass, twirling it around with his fingers before taking another sip. Pausing for a moment he makes his reply with an equally cold and indifferent tone as if they were speaking of the mundane aspects of life. "Off the board that's a strange phrase to use, I didn't realise I was playing a game when I snapped his neck in two." His cold expression morphs into a malevolent grin as the image of Lord Ecbert's mangled and twisted neck enters Sevran's diabolical mind. "Was he a valuable piece in your little game?" Still grinning with an air of icy sarcasm within the fabric of his very words.
Orpheus smirks in response as he grasps his wine glass tightly and brings it to his parched lips and consumes a small portion. Gulping in the wine his gaze turns to its contents as he tilts his head to the left as if to commend the taste. Raising his gaze to the gala stretched out before him he makes his immediate reply. "Well lucky for you he was not that important but were friends aren't we, friends can forgive an interrupting murder or two." Orpheus responds with a glib and sarcastic tone along with a faint chuckle underneath his breath as he speaks.
Sevran smirks at his friend's statement as if to agree with his every word, with the sounds of violins and cello's permeating the air he replies. "Interrupting?" He speaks sarcastically with a single word becoming a poignant but rhetorical question. "So, I have interrupted your little scheme." He says, still fiddling and twirling his glass as if his body was nervous but his heart was completely still.
Orpheus ponders his friends' statement for a moment, regaining his senses after a brief interlude he responds to the remark just made. "I wouldn't go that far, but you could have ruined this nice party with a corpse in the garden." His words carried a chill from his cold and indifferent words as if his priority was to have a good time and the deaths of others were a secondary concern. "But nevertheless, it is good to see you, old friend." He speaks in a joyful tone as his cold gaze suddenly becomes a softer one.
With those kind words replacing the cold air of a once indifferent presence, Sevran replies with an equal amount of joy. "It's good to see you too Orpheus." Smiling as he speaks, Sevran pauses immediately after as if pondering an important subject, a few moments pass by and he speaks once more. "But Orpheus, I got to ask, how did you end up here, in this pretentious gala, wearing that pretentious face?" He turns his gaze to the right and stares deeply at Orpheus's side, awaiting his response.
With a deep sigh as if inhaling joy and exhaling pain, Orpheus's cold gaze was once more stricken from his face, with a dampened mood he responds. "Well it's a bit of a long story, sufficed to say this all started..." He pauses for a moment as if to get his bearings on the correct words to pluck from his now rattled mind. "This all started a week ago when I... when I killed a good friend of mine when I killed Kyran." Sevran's face sport confusion as he gazes at Orpheus wearing an expression completely unknown to his memory as if he had never seen his friend weep a single tear nor possess a single frown. Whilst listening intently to his friend, he began to explain the events of the past that lead to this very moment.
The soft impact of metal meeting wood can be heard as a tankard filled with an alcoholic liquid is firmly placed upon a wooden bar, tiny droplets of liquid spurt from the tankard as it descends. The wooden bar is crudely made with several stains and droplets of alcohol covering it, opposite the bar is a tall rugged man wearing a tunic and dirtied apron. He looked to be in his mid-forties, he was roughly 5 and a half feet tall, with short dark brown hair, blue eyes and faint wrinkles on his aged face.
Behind the man are several wooden shelves with various bottles, the room was dark and dank as if very little illumination was present, in front of the bar were several stools along with circular tables with chairs surrounding them. The bar was empty save for the bartender and a mysterious man seated on the centre stool. The bartender sighs briefly before crossing his arms with an aggressive demeanour before speaking in a cold and husky voice. "That will be two coppers for the drink." With his blatant statement, he cracks his neck from side to side with his arms still crossed.
The man sitting opposite to him has his elbows on the bar as he supports his hunched over body, his face is obscured by a black hood connected to his dark flowing coat. Still, with his faced hunched downwards, he reaches to a small belt bag with his right hand and pulls out two copper coins and places them on the bar. "Here you go." His voice was soft as if muttering in a low volume, as the bartender grasps the coins and places them in his apron. With a slow movement, the man lifts his gaze, revealing himself as Orpheus. A pained expression a washed across with his gaze affixed to the alcoholic beverage, reaching forward he takes the tankard with his left hand and begins drinking. The taste is bitter with a strong smell of ethanol, Orpheus pays it no mind and continues, pulling the tankard away for a breath before setting it down with half its contents gone.
"You look troubled my friend?" The bartender's voice suddenly changes to a softer more friendly tone as he asks his question. The lowered gaze of Orpheus still fixed to the tankard, suddenly pulls away from its shining eminence to meet his gaze.
Staring back at the now smiling man as he washes an empty tankard with a small rag, Orpheus responds with a still gloomy tone and pained expression. "I buried a friend of mine today." With those nonchalant and cold words reaching the bartender's eager ears, his left hand encircling the rag within the tankard freezes still. Placing both of them on the bar, his smile quickly vanishes with his eyes now staring at the hunched over Orpheus. His gaze flicks downwards to Orpheus's drink and then back to him, letting out a deep sigh.
He hunches forward with his palms affixed to the table facing Orpheus, his towering presence set above the man before him as he speaks. "What's your friend's name?" The bartender asks in a compassionate yet curious tone of voice, his eyes now soft, his face friendly and welcoming. Spurned by his words Orpheus lifts his gaze to the friendly face and with a heavy heart he speaks.
"His name was Kyran." Immediately after speaking his head dips forward as he grasps the tankard once more. Bringing it to his slightly shivering lips he gulps in the alcohol to soothe his wounded soul. The bartender's eyes rolled to the ceiling, with his curious smile and pondering gaze, his mind trails off to memories of various common names within the kingdom. Perusing through his mental knowledge he comes to the conclusion that the name he heard was not among his own memories and he speaks on that subject.