Gabrelle shrugged. “Uhmmm… I don’t know. There’s a yearly guild sponsored tournament next month, you could do that?”
“A tournament?”
“Mmhm!” Gabrelle said, sitting on the other side of the bed. “They run it every year, and the winners usually get some well-crafted item or a sum of gold. It’s a little different every year. I tried to get us on as a team once, but Atrax said he doesn’t like tournaments. I think it was more that injuries are so common. It’s frowned upon, and against the rules, to actually kill your opponents, but your entry fee covers any healing you need, and there are multiple healers stationed all around the ring. Of course… accidents do occasionally happen.”
“Huh. Sounds pretty brutal.”
“Oh it can be, but it’s all in good sport. You don’t have to be a merc to join the tournament, but most of the participants are, so there’s a very rough sort of comradery between the contestants. For the most part, anyways. There’s always bound to be sore losers, I suppose.”
“Mm. It would give me something to do. Any idea what the prize is supposed to be this year?”
“The rumors are saying that it’s access to a very selective contract, but those are just rumors. There’s a posted reward of five hundred gold pieces already. Mostly it’s the bragging rights that come with winning the tournament.”
“I see. That sounds like it could be interesting. Maybe I’ll sign up.” Xander held his hands up, looking them over as he began to add the creases and wrinkles he’d forgotten in his state of excitement the day before. Satisfied, he turned back to Gabrelle, who was busy brushing her hair. “How does one sign up?”
Continuing to run the brush through her hair, Gabrelle replied “You can register at the guild hall ahead of time, or pay your fee day of, if you’re willing to wait in line.”
“Ahead of time sounds better. I’ll think about it.”
That night, Xander laid back in the bed as usual, Gabrelle occupying her own spot nearby, sapping the heat from his body. It had been several hours since Gabrelle had fallen asleep, and he was idly daydreaming about what a tournament of skill users would look like. Distracted as he was, Xander did not notice the patch of shadow in the room that slowly detached itself from a large pool, making its way to the bed. He did notice, however, when the patch of shadow resolved itself into the figure of a man in the darkness, who was already bringing down a dagger aimed at his skull. Before Xander could react, the dagger made its way into the silicone of his false skin and then penetrated the mask he had slotted into the skull he’d made. The dagger then wedged itself deep in the dragon scale material of the skull.
Huil had thought that this would be a harder mission to fulfil, considering the urgency that had been placed on him when it was given. The target, one Xander Jones, had somehow managed to kill Terron Winter. He’d been thought dead, but had recently reappeared and made his way out of Thrask controlled territory. The king had been none too happy to hear of this, and had angrily dispatched an order to kill the man, and so, being the closest agent with a suitable skillset, the task had fallen to Huil. His skills had allowed him to infiltrate the darkened inn with ease, none noticing his passing. Another set of abilities combined to make his first strike on Xander extremely potent, with the addition of a few other skills he’d activated. One of these skills had muffled any sound and impact that might have awoken the woman sleeping next to the man he’d just assassinated. She'd wake to quite the surprise in the morning, seeing his dagger sprouting from his latest kill’s face. He always left a dagger in his successful kills. A little calling card of sorts. He was not expecting the corpse he’d just produced to loudly utter, “What the fuck?” and reach out to grab one of his arms in a bone shattering grip.
As soon as the dagger had passed through Xander’s mask and broken the runic array binding his soul, he felt his perspective forcefully repositioned as he found himself in the dark. Straining his ephemeral body forwards, he realized that he had been dragged to the amulet that was still around Gabrelle’s neck, which confirmed for him that his original array had been destroyed. He needed to find out why he’d been marked for assassination, and also stop the man before he left, or even worse, decided to tie up the loose end that was Gabrelle and kill her too.
It was an odd sensation watching his body in third person as he fed mana into the arrays that powered it. He spoke loudly, asking the assassin, “What the fuck?” And grabbed the man’s arm. He passed so much power into the runes in his aggressive grab that he felt the bones of the arm break under his grip. The man yelped in pain. The two noises in quick succession woke Gabrelle from her sleep as she sat upright, startled.
Gabrelle looked at the source of the noises that had awoken her and was startled to see a man dressed in black currently in the process of being grappled by Xander. She cried out in startlement, and leapt from the bed, creating distance from the man and her unarmed, unarmored self. “Assassin!” She cried as she fumbled through her belongings to get to her mace.
Xander found the constant shifting of his perspective as Gabrelle moved quite disorienting, but managed to keep line of sight of his body as he jerked the man forward and grabbed at his clothes with his other arm. The assassin struggled to break his grip, grabbing another knife from the folds of his clothing and stabbing at Xander several more times, plunging the knife with expert proficiency into his ribs where the heart would be as well as slashing at his neck. Unfortunately for the assassin, this had no effect on Xander, as he firmed his grip on the man’s outfit and hauled him into the air by his broken arm and clothes, standing up out of the bed and then slamming the man into the floor. He picked the would-be assassin up again and slammed him into the wall before adjusting his grip on the dazed man so that he was holding both of his arms, pinning them against his side.
With the short scuffle seemingly over, Xander called out to Gabrelle, who had found her mace and had been circling around the bed to get an opening. “Bring your medallion over here and drape it over my neck, Gabrelle. I’m bound to it and you moving around like that is really disorienting.”
“What? Oh! Okay,” Gabrelle responded, hastening over and taking the necklace off and passing it over Xander’s head.
Adjusting his perspective to roughly where it had been before, Xander felt much more comfortable. “And I guess go get the rest of the team? And the guard? I want to find out why this bastard here,” he shook the assassin, who had started to try and squirm out of his grip, and tightened his grip, “just tried to kill me.”
As Gabrelle hurried out of the room to wake the team, she found that they, along with a few other curious patrons of the inn, were already out in the hall, alerted by her yell after seeing the assassin. Graffus had been just about to kick the door in when she opened it. The dwarf rushed into the room, hammer in hand, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. He saw Xander with a man pinned against the wall and raised off the floor and relaxed a little bit.
“That our assassin?” He asked Gabrelle.
“I – yes, that’s him,” she responded.
“’Spose we ought to fetch the guard then…” he said. Graffus looked around until he spied someone in the crowd who was fully dressed. “You there, go fetch the city guard!” As the person hurried off, the rest of the team crowded around the door in varying states of undress, blocking the view of the other onlookers.
“Go on, everything’s sorted, nothing else to see here,” Frazay shooed the nosey patrons away.
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Inside Xander questioned the man. “Why’d you try to kill me?”
The man gave a strained laugh. “Why does anyone do anything? I was getting paid.”
Xander sighed mentally. He wasn’t really sure how to interrogate someone, and he wasn’t comfortable resorting to torture. “Okay… who was paying you?”
“The person who wanted you dead,” the assassin retorted.
“Goddamnit, man, just tell me!” Xander shook the assassin again, angrily.
The assassin hissed as his broken arm was jostled. He spat at Xander, hitting him directly on the forehead where his dagger was still protruding. “Who do you think it was, you idiot! You killed a prince! Did you never consider that would earn you someone’s ire? Maybe if you cross your eyes you can see the Thraskian emblem on the dagger I shoved through your face!” The assassin retorted angrily. “What are you? What kind of monster can take a dagger in the brain? No wonder you’re wanted dead!”
Xander cursed internally. Of course it was Thrask. He’d have figured it out himself shortly if the assassin’s comment about the emblem on the dagger held true. He was going to have to take more precautions from now on. He hoped this wasn’t going to be a regular thing. He’d hand the man over to the city guard, though he expected that there’d be little to tie him back to anyone specific in Thrask. Regardless, Xander wanted him sentenced under whatever laws held sway over Sempta.
Xander manifested thick, steel shackles with his abilities and used [Ferrokinesis] to guide them into place and snap them shut over the man’s wrists. He didn’t have much sympathy for the man as he once again yelped in pain as his injured arm was tweaked. Xander then did the same for his legs. He’d have to tell the guards that the manacles would only last a day.
“So, what’d he say?” Atrax asked from the doorway, peering inwards.
“Said he was hired by Thrask, but that’s all I got. Not exactly sure what else to ask, and I doubt he’ll give me anything more specific, anyways.” He turned to the assassin still in his grip and asked sarcastically, “Would you? Pretty please?”
The assassin viciously spat, “Go to hell and hit every rock on the way down!” He then clamped his mouth shut.
“Guess not, then.”
The city guard arrived in short order, and the man was quickly taken into their custody. Five guards slapped their own set of manacles on the man and began pulling him outside. A sixth stayed behind and gathered the story of events from Xander and Gabrelle. He kept glancing at the dagger that was still sticking out of Xander’s face. Finally realizing what the guard was looking at, Xander reached up and yanked the dagger free of its prison and placed a hand over the slit it had left behind, mending the material. The guard failed to suppress a shudder as he watched Xander. He inspected the blade, which was indeed stamped on the hilt with the Thraskian emblem of a stag and an eagle. He handed it to the guard, who gingerly took it. “Evidence, right?” Xander asked.
The attempted assassin was led away by the contingent of guards that had answered the call for help. The team was still clustered in Xander and Gabrelle’s room, awkwardly standing around, unsure of what to do. Finally, Frazay broke the silence.
“I guess Thrask knows where you’re at, now… Do you think they’ll try again?” She asked.
“I guess they do,” Xander replied. “I don’t know. He made it pretty clear that someone wanted me dead for killing that prince, Terron Martin…”
Atrax piped in, saying, “It’s possible, but I would expect it to be a while if they do try again. Assassins like that are valuable, and, no matter how badly they want you dead, it costs some political capital to have an assassin that’s even tangentially tied to you caught out operating outside one’s borders. They’ll want to be sure before they try again, both to avoid any kind of trade sanctions from Sempta as well as to avoid any further embarrassment. Though, like you said, I’m sure that Thrask will vigorously deny any involvement. Perhaps they’ll claim it was a noble still mourning the loss of the prince.”
“Mm. Well that makes me feel a little bit better… but god damn, that guy was fast on that first strike. It’s like he came out of nowhere!”
Graffus nodded understandingly. “Having someone with stealth focused skills get the drop on you is… scary. It’s also something that a lot of people don’t survive. I imagine you saw why what with the, ah, dagger that was sticking out of your head. A lot of them have skills that will amplify any damage they make on an unaware person, or on their first strike.”
“Jeez. That’s scary. Guess they’re shit out of luck if they don’t get the drop on you or that first hit fails, though, right? Guy didn’t seem too hard to handle once I got ahold of him,” Xander thought out loud.
“Aye, stealth specialists do tend to suffer in a straight fight, which is why they avoid them like the plague,” Graffus confirmed.
Xander felt around on his forehead, noticing that his mask seemed to be in two pieces. “Awh, that fucker broke my mask,” he whined. “I thought maybe he just pierced through some of the binding runes, but the whole thing is cracked in half… guess that’s it for that particular piece of equipment.”
“Consider yourself lucky,” Gabrelle chastised him, “the rest of us wouldn’t be only minorly inconvenienced by a stab through their skull.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Fuck, I gotta work on protecting my binding a little bit more. It was… pretty disorienting trying to move my body around watching from third person while also having someone moving around. And make a new medallion for you, Gabrelle.”
Gabrelle shuddered as she thought, “I’m just glad he didn’t decide to go for me first… I didn’t hear a single thing or wake up in the slightest until I heard you shout, Xander.”
Xander nodded. “He must have had some kind of skill, because I also didn’t hear anything, and I was awake for it.”
Eventually, the mercenaries split up and went back to their rooms. Xander went downstairs to the stables and retrieved the two combat-oriented golems, Atlas and Lynx, and brought them upstairs to the room, where he posted one at the head of the bed on either side with orders to defend himself and Gabrelle. He stayed up fixing himself and his new binding. First order of business was to pull out the broken mask, where Xander confirmed that it was indeed split right down the center where he’d been stabbed. Quietly placing it aside so that he did not wake Gabrelle, though he wasn’t sure if she was actually asleep yet considering the previous excitement of the night, he took the medallion in his hand and coated it in several runed layers of dragonscale, hoping that it would help protect the binding. Using his material manipulation skills, he inserted the coated disk into the center of his skull. Then, he had an idea. Why have only one binding on his body?
Creating two more medallions, one for Gabrelle, and one for his secondary binding, he coated one of them just like he’d done for the one that now resided in his skull. He pushed it through the silicone and then attached it behind his ribcage area, roughly where a heart would reside. Hmm… why put it where the heart is, though? I should put it somewhere less likely to be targeted, Xander thought to himself. He then moved it further back, fusing it to a section of his upper spine, so that he could still bring his point of view to his usual spot. Looking at his face in a small, polished piece of steel, he then ran his hands over his neck where the assassin had stabbed him repeatedly and mended the rent silicone. Satisfied, he quietly climbed back into bed, though it wasn’t exactly relaxing. He spent the rest of the night alert and waiting for the next attempt on his life, even if it was unlikely that there would be another attempt so soon.
The next morning, Frazay knocked on the door, informing him that there was a guard downstairs who had asked to see him.
“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll go down and see what he wants,” Xander replied.
Downstairs, Xander made his way to the town guard who was waiting near the stairs.
“Xander?” The woman asked.
“That’s me,” he confirmed for the guardswoman.
“I’m here to follow up with you regarding the… incident last night.”
“Mm, alrighty. That makes sense.”
The woman gestured to a quiet corner of the inn, which was mostly empty this early in the morning. Once they were both there, she asked Xander in a low voice, “Do you know why someone would want you dead?”
Xander nodded. “I’m pretty sure Thrask is not happy about my continued existence,” he replied.
The guard cocked an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Well, I might have killed a prince during the war between Thrask and Dardin.”
“’Might have?’ Wait… that was you? I’d heard that one of the Thraskian princes had died during the war. Is that why you’re in Sempta now?”
“Uhh… that’s definitely a big part of it. It’s also where my team relocated to after the war, so you could say I followed them here.”
“Hm. I suppose that makes sense. The fellow that was apprehended last night has been… uncooperative. Seems like he’s at least somewhat of a professional, because he’s not been dumb enough to outright lie. He just either refuses questions or answers in vague half truths. Did he say anything to you before we arrived?” The guardswoman leaned forward as she asked.
“Just that it was Thrask that wanted me dead. And I think that’s only because he knew that it would have been pretty easy to figure that out from the emblem on the dagger. Didn’t give me any specifics, though, unfortunately.”
“Hmph. Well, it was worth hoping. Evidence is pretty clear; he’ll be tried for attempted murder soon. Hopefully he talks soon to try and lessen his sentence. Otherwise…” The woman crudely mimed herself being hung by a rope. “Anyways, we’ll be in touch if we happen to need to go over anything or gather any more testimony. You’ll be staying at this inn for the near future?”
“At least until the new year, from my understanding.”
“Good. Hopefully, you have no more need of our services, Xander, but if not, the city guard always answers a call for their help.”