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Description

Event 11: Possession , Fire 8292
(tickets to Reluir State please )

Death's Messenger
Of the assassination missions deployed across Iadlain, none were more ambitious and suicidal than the one assigned to Stitches: killing the Count of Iadlain. With personal connections to the city and a low profile, he slips close and strikes fast – but death has different ideas for them both. Stitches instead escapes, aided by an old Iadlish family who would betray their city for the Count’s death. They give him hurried instructions of a secret escape route through the forest and, taking it, Stitches finds himself pulled into a web of Wispwood’s magic. Before sunset, he is safely back at Reluir’s doorstep with a critical secret in his hands: a key for Reluir to Iadlain’s back door, and a message of death.

The shelves' broken contents littered the ground, their inherent magic spent violently across their surroundings. Stitches' glower burning through Esther faltered as a fresh jolt coursed through his side, keen reminders where shards had marked him earlier. But the sage was not without her own missteps. The arch of her frame favoured her right, her ragged sleeve blooming blacker.

Close. He'd been so close.

Just 'close' never amounted to anything. Stitches tasted a spite he hadn't in years as he caught glimpses of pale tangled hair, obstructed by the elven shadow cast between their aisles. So fucking close... so why was it turning out this way?

"You're a fool, Rosebud." The rogue laughed at long last, derisive and bitter. Esther paused at his voice behind the rail, the first words they'd exchanged since the initial blows– but that was it. Her features tightened visibly from a distance. Brows furrowed, eyes flashing darker and igneous, her red lips parted in measured retort: another spell. Another lock unleashed.

Ended up only drawing for role... tried drabbly context but it tells nothing, so:

Going after the Count of Iadlain with a guildmate's enchanted dagger , Stitches succeeded in offing little else but an illusory decoy. The next few minutes pitted him against an unexpected foe as well: Esther, the artificier whose shop he had frequented on much better terms and where he had just now targeted Cassair. What should have been short work grew unexpectedly difficult as the sage, surrounded by her tools and collections, had far more than just magic barriers at her disposal.

tl;dr stitches is a twat, esther rules her turf, cass gets free entertainment. meanwhile in other event shenanigans,

Thanks guys for the event hcs/rps/teamwork
Cassair - || Esther - || Stitches -

Other:

Description

Event 11: Possession , Fire 8292
(tickets to Reluir State please )

Death's Messenger
Of the assassination missions deployed across Iadlain, none were more ambitious and suicidal than the one assigned to Stitches: killing the Count of Iadlain. With personal connections to the city and a low profile, he slips close and strikes fast – but death has different ideas for them both. Stitches instead escapes, aided by an old Iadlish family who would betray their city for the Count’s death. They give him hurried instructions of a secret escape route through the forest and, taking it, Stitches finds himself pulled into a web of Wispwood’s magic. Before sunset, he is safely back at Reluir’s doorstep with a critical secret in his hands: a key for Reluir to Iadlain’s back door, and a message of death.

The shelves' broken contents littered the ground, their inherent magic spent violently across their surroundings. Stitches' glower burning through Esther faltered as a fresh jolt coursed through his side, keen reminders where shards had marked him earlier. But the sage was not without her own missteps. The arch of her frame favoured her right, her ragged sleeve blooming blacker.

Close. He'd been so close.

Just 'close' never amounted to anything. Stitches tasted a spite he hadn't in years as he caught glimpses of pale tangled hair, obstructed by the elven shadow cast between their aisles. So fucking close... so why was it turning out this way?

"You're a fool, Rosebud." The rogue laughed at long last, derisive and bitter. Esther paused at his voice behind the rail, the first words they'd exchanged since the initial blows– but that was it. Her features tightened visibly from a distance. Brows furrowed, eyes flashing darker and igneous, her red lips parted in measured retort: another spell. Another lock unleashed.

Ended up only drawing for role... tried drabbly context but it tells nothing, so:

Going after the Count of Iadlain with a guildmate's enchanted dagger , Stitches succeeded in offing little else but an illusory decoy. The next few minutes pitted him against an unexpected foe as well: Esther, the artificier whose shop he had frequented on much better terms and where he had just now targeted Cassair. What should have been short work grew unexpectedly difficult as the sage, surrounded by her tools and collections, had far more than just magic barriers at her disposal.

tl;dr stitches is a twat, esther rules her turf, cass gets free entertainment. meanwhile in other event shenanigans,

Thanks guys for the event hcs/rps/teamwork
Cassair - || Esther - || Stitches -

Other: