Allana studied the man sitting across from her carefully. He was just above average height, which made him only an inch or two taller than her, though he displayed an impressively broad pair of shoulders. His long, coiffed blonde hair went most of the way down his back, and it added an almost buffoonish aspect to his appearance–one that conflicted with the careful economy of movement he displayed when he guided from the door to the small, well-appointed office they now sat in.

Allana knew the stride of a predator when she saw it. This man was well trained, and high level. He said nothing, letting her take her time investigating him and the room they sat in. He simply leaned back in his plush chair, propped his feet up on top of his desk, and sipped at a glass of amber liquor. He had offered her a glass of the same, but Allana had refused on principle. Something told her that dulling her senses in the company of a man like this would be a mistake.

His mouth, framed by that goatee of all things, quirked up into that amused smirk again. Like the room they were in, and the house itself, his clothes were a clear display of wealth. He dressed in layers, like a beggar bundled against a chill, but each garment likely cost more than Allana could steal in a month, from the silken long sleeved tunic, to the colorful cotton jacket, to the voluminous mantle he wore over it all. The fabrics were all clashing hues of bright colors, a rich man’s motley that did little to conceal the dangerous nature of the man underneath. A man like this didn’t belong in Lowrun.

“You’re high level,” Allana finally said.

“Correct.” His voice was a smooth, cultured baritone.

“Why did you ask Telik for my services?”

“You’re quite blunt, aren’t you?” he asked in return, amused.

“I don’t want to be here, so let’s get it over with. What do you want?”

“Tut tut tut,” the man admonished her. “No social skills at all. You haven’t even asked my name yet.”

Allana narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to answer any of my questions?”

“It’s Geoffrey, by the way.”

“I don’t believe you. That’s why I didn’t bother asking.”

The man rolled his eyes heavensward. “Whether it’s real or not, you will need something to call me while we’re working together, will you not?”

Allana stiffened in her seat. “Work together?”

“Telik really didn’t tell you much, did he?” Geoffrey shook his head in disappointment. “This isn’t a job, Allana. It’s training. Your master asked me to take you under my wing for a time.”

Allana bristled. “Telik doesn’t own me. He’s not my master.” She could taste the venom in her voice. Literally, in fact, as she could feel the sour taste of the gift of poison responding to her anger, and she had to make an active effort to swallow the magic down.

Geoffrey waved dismissively with the hand that wasn’t holding his drink. “Mmm, of course not. He’s simply the man who bought you your gifts, your home, and your safety, and all the things you need to live.”

“It’s not like that!” Allana insisted. “He took me in when I was an orphan, and I need to pay him back for that. It's not like I’m his pet or something.”

Geoffrey’s expression was downright pitiful. “Oh, dear girl… it’s just like that. I’m simply amazed you don’t see it.” He took a sip of his drink, then added offhand, “Oh, and by now, you should’ve asked what it is you’re here to learn from me, rather than waste your words denying an uncomfortable truth.”

Allana made a small, aggravated noise of chagrin, becoming more frustrated by the minute. It was like the man had already decided where the conversation was going, and nothing she said mattered. Besides. He was all wrong about Telik. Right?

“Let me guess.” Allana sat back in her chair, content to fold her arms and glare daggers at the man across the desk from her. “Telik wants me to toughen up while protecting your interests, or something like that.” He had been hinting for a while now, in his unsubtle way, that he felt Allana was still too soft for the life she led.

Geoffrey arched an eyebrow, and she noticed even those looked trimmed. “Really Allana? You think I’m a merchant? I thought better of you.”

Allana bit back a sharp retort, glancing more closely around the room. He was right, of course. Any merchant that had the sort of money it took to build a place like this could just live in comfort in Highreach instead. Only poor merchants made do in Lowrun. She had let her anger get the better of her.

Geoffrey stayed carefully quiet while Allana studied both the room and her supposed mentor-to-be again. A place like this flaunted wealth, which meant power and success. Having a house to show such traits in Lowrun meant that he was attempting to impress the people there, who would see what was apparently both his home and place of business. He could run a gambling hall, or a drug den, but Telik owned most of the vice mongers in Lowrun. Geoffrey was clearly at least a peer to the man who ran much of Lowrun’s criminal industry, based on how he spoke about Telik. He could be a whore master or a body runner, but Telik knew better than to send her to a place like that.

Allana chewed her bottom lip, admitting to herself that it wasn’t an impossibility. Rogue knew it was a common enough threat, growing up. But she hadn’t upset him lately, and didn’t have any recent failures to her name that would draw that sort of ire from the slumlord.

Besides, she told herself, if that was the case, Geoffrey wouldn’t be chatting like this. Allana was confident about her chances against most men in Lowrun, but if Geoffrey was an Adept like Telik, as she suspected he was, she wouldn’t stand a chance against him. That was a taste more bitter than her worst poison.

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So, a wealthy man who still had to live in Lowrun. A man who managed to accumulate power and wealth to rival Telik, yet who she had never heard of in her years on Lowrun’s streets. A dangerous and powerful man who had the stride and manner of a skilled fighter, yet purposefully adopted the mannerisms of a harmless socialite.

“You’re an assassin,” she finally concluded. Then her eyes narrowed. If Geoffrey was an assassin, and Telik had sent her to learn from him, then…

Geoffrey nodded his approval. “Good. Only took you two tries.”

“Then… Telik…”

Geoffrey nodded again, but his smile had vanished. “Also correct. The old man has, apparently, been grooming you to be an assassin. His assassin.”

“That… that can’t be…” Allana suppressed a growl, trying her hardest to keep her anger at bay and think things out logically. She quickly felt as ignorant as Geoffrey made her out to be. The pieces of it all fell together easily. “But it can be, can’t it? He taught me how to fight, how to build my reputation. Hell, even my gifts…”

“Ensouled daggers with the gift of stealth, and the Primal’s gift of poison. You have to admit, they’re effective blessings for a professional killer.”

Allana frowned, considering his words. Sensing the direction of her thoughts, her stats appeared, floating before her eyes.

Allana, the Violet Edge

Level: Apprentice

Gifts:

[Gift of Poison]: +3 to coordination and resilience

[Gift of Stealth]: +3 to coordination and focus

Attributes:

Strength: 5

Resilience: 9 (6 + 3)

Stamina: 5

Coordination: 10 (7 + 3)

Speed: 6

Will: 7

Knowledge: 4

Focus: 8 (5 +3)

Awareness: 6

Charm: 5

Quintessence Pool: 15

“Then, when I reach Initiate level… there’s some sort of assassin gift, I take it?” Allana glared daggers at the foppish man watching her from across his desk. He tried to hide it, but Allana noticed when his balance slightly shifted, muscles tightening. He was ready for her to spring at him.

“Yes. One of the Rogue’s gifts. Telik’s idea was for you to train with me, pick up the tools of the trade, then have you complete your first solo job upon reaching Initiate. If you were successful, the Rogue would offer the gift of the assassin, and Telik would have his perfect enforcer.”

“How am I supposed to trust your claim?” she asked.

Geoffrey simply arched a single sarcastic eyebrow. Allana flushed slightly, the color a brilliant magenta against her dark purple skin. She knew his answer without him speaking. Too many pieces fit. She knew he was telling her the truth.

Allana turned her glare to the floor. Her anger had always served her well, growing up. It was as much a shield as a weapon. Her fiery temper and hard-earned confidence was the bedrock her reputation was built on. But she had already seen that it wouldn’t benefit her here. She needed to think calmly and clearly, no matter how this bastard provoked her.

Since he had taken her in, Telik was the closest thing to a father Allana had, even if the crimelord wasn't particularly paternal. Even so, she had never considered the idea that he had been grooming her, controlling every piece of her, down to her gifts, for that long. It wasn’t that she had anything against killing someone–Rogue knew she had done it before, and she would again. But that had always been self-defense, against men and women who deserved it.

But to be pointed like a weapon? Sicced like a dog? Just a living tool to enforce Telik’s will on those with the temerity to stand up to the wealthy crime lord?

“No,” she found herself saying out loud. “I refuse.”

Something hot flashed through Geoffrey’s eyes, and for the first time in the conversation, his flippant demeanor dropped, fully revealing the hard man underneath. He pulled his feet off of his desk, and leaned forward in his chair. “You won’t have a choice,” he claimed.

Allana’s hands flew to her daggers, though she knew she had no chance against the older man. She’d still go down fighting.

The man snorted derisively–and then he was just gone. One moment, he was sitting in his chair, a solid desk between them, and the next she felt a whisper of breath behind her ear while the edge of a dagger settled on her throat.

“Drop them.” Geoffrey’s voice was a bark of pure authority, and Allana found her hands following his directions instinctively. Both daggers clattered to the floor, then vanished. “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you a fact.”

Allana’s body trembled with shame and rage like she had never felt before. She knew she couldn’t win, but she had at least expected a fight, not… this. But still. She didn’t move.

“Good,” Geoffrey’s voice was quiet, but it got closer, like he was crouching down behind her. Still, the blade stayed steady against her neck. “Now here’s another fact for you: I’m not Telik’s friend. And I think I want to see him dead about as much as you do at the moment.”

“I doubt that,” Allana growled.

“Mmm... fair enough.” Suddenly, the dagger was gone, and Geoffrey was settling into his seat, back behind his desk. Allana’s hand flew to her throat, but there wasn’t even a lingering cut from the razor-edged blade. His control had been perfect, enough to intimidate her without marking her.

“Telik expects you to be training with me for some time to come. I told him that, while you were working with me, he was not to have you tracked or followed. That it would be too likely to interfere with our activities.”

“You dictated terms to him?” Allana asked with a helpless huff of laughter. “And you think he’ll listen?”

“I’m the most powerful assassin in this boil of a city, Allana. Telik did not demand this service from me, he asked me for it. I could dictate whatever terms I wanted. And if he doesn’t listen, that’s fine. I have no problem killing some sneak he thinks I won’t notice.”

“Works for me,” Allana replied through a wicked smile, an expression that carried more vindictiveness than actual happiness.

“Now, here is my offer.” As Geoffrey spoke, he poured himself a fresh glass of that same amber alcohol. “I’ll train you, just as Telik asked. But rather than training you to be his killer, I'll train you to be the one who kills him.”

Allana’s violet eyes went wide. She knew she should be suspicious, that there was no reason to trust this man she had just met. She didn’t even know why Geoffrey wanted Telik dead. But her anger overruled her common sense. Allana snatched up the glass he had poured her at the beginning of their conversation. “It’s a deal.”

Geoffrey smiled, and the clink of their glasses was the chime of a chain being broken.