The Shadow makes its move..
Brendan Exodus asked the courier to repeat his message once more, and listened once again. "Continue to the dove's new roost," the little man said, "and become a poisonous egg." Brendan hated code. He knew exactly what it meant, and likely so would anyone else who pulled it out of this filthy cutpurse. He preferred to have the message sent through reliable means; then again, he was not in charge of such decisions, so he put the thought from his mind and turned to regard the stubby man.
"You are late, by nearly half a day," was all he said, arms crossed over his slim yet powerful chest. The courier's eyes darted about, confused. Brendan just stared him down.
"You are late, by nearly half a day," was all he said, arms crossed over his slim yet powerful chest. The courier's eyes darted about, confused. Brendan just stared him down.
"Well," the man muttered, "I had to stop for a meal, I was near starving to death!"
"Lies. You stopped for a drink. I can smell it on you." Brendan shook his head, and reached into his coin purse, throwing two gold pieces on the ground. As the man bent to scoop them up, the dark-haired youth reached for Saidin. In an instant, a ball of Air had shoved itself into the man's mouth, down this throat, and through most of his organs. There was a gurgle, then a thud as the body slumped to the ground. Brendan quietly gathered his possessions and stepped over the body without a second glance. As he closed the door behind him, he could hear the awful sounds of death release from the man's body.
Brendan Exodus mounted his horse, and guided it to a trot with his knees and a gentle word. Half a day's delay, he thought. I'll be arriving in Salidar well past dusk. Perhaps I will delay myself a bit more, reach the encampment the following dawn. The delay was not what bothered him about the courier; on the contrary, if the man had been overly eager Brendan likely wouldn't have found out about the rapes the man had committed on the way from the north, and would have no chance to make him pay for his crimes. What bothered Brendan was the kind of men the Dark Lord had been sending him lately. Fewer and fewer were what anyone could consider honorable men, which to Brendan was a sign of the times. Friends of the Dark these days are nothing but rapists, petty thieves, and sociopaths. Whatever happened to the idea of the Dark being an army to confront the forces of Light? All this hiding and sneaking about is one thing, but we could at the very least be proud of who we are when among our peers. Instead, I feel the need to bathe each time I encounter another like me.
Perhaps he had too much pride. Perhaps he was still used to the coven of Darkfriends from Arad Doman, whose words were sweeter than honey, and whose grace surpassed that of royalty. Reminded of that coven, Brendan thought of how he had been commanded, in his dreams, to slaughter them all in their sleep, one by one. His mount tossed its head and stepped a bit strange, and Brendan realized that he was holding the Power. He let it go, and gave his friend a pat on the head. "There, there, Surefoot, I meant no alarm. I was just thinking." Brendan then realized that he was before a fork in the road, and hadn't given Surefoot a direction in which to travel. He chuckled to himself. "Ah, I see."
His attention turned back to the path before him, Brendan guided his mount towards the southern fork, and started towards Salidar, and the mission he had been given: infiltration and subjugation. And if that's on the impossible side, I'll do what I always do. His hand touched the Heron-marked sword at his side, the scabbard and blade within blacker than pitch. I will unleash the Breaker, and destroy those who stand in my way.
"Lies. You stopped for a drink. I can smell it on you." Brendan shook his head, and reached into his coin purse, throwing two gold pieces on the ground. As the man bent to scoop them up, the dark-haired youth reached for Saidin. In an instant, a ball of Air had shoved itself into the man's mouth, down this throat, and through most of his organs. There was a gurgle, then a thud as the body slumped to the ground. Brendan quietly gathered his possessions and stepped over the body without a second glance. As he closed the door behind him, he could hear the awful sounds of death release from the man's body.
Brendan Exodus mounted his horse, and guided it to a trot with his knees and a gentle word. Half a day's delay, he thought. I'll be arriving in Salidar well past dusk. Perhaps I will delay myself a bit more, reach the encampment the following dawn. The delay was not what bothered him about the courier; on the contrary, if the man had been overly eager Brendan likely wouldn't have found out about the rapes the man had committed on the way from the north, and would have no chance to make him pay for his crimes. What bothered Brendan was the kind of men the Dark Lord had been sending him lately. Fewer and fewer were what anyone could consider honorable men, which to Brendan was a sign of the times. Friends of the Dark these days are nothing but rapists, petty thieves, and sociopaths. Whatever happened to the idea of the Dark being an army to confront the forces of Light? All this hiding and sneaking about is one thing, but we could at the very least be proud of who we are when among our peers. Instead, I feel the need to bathe each time I encounter another like me.
Perhaps he had too much pride. Perhaps he was still used to the coven of Darkfriends from Arad Doman, whose words were sweeter than honey, and whose grace surpassed that of royalty. Reminded of that coven, Brendan thought of how he had been commanded, in his dreams, to slaughter them all in their sleep, one by one. His mount tossed its head and stepped a bit strange, and Brendan realized that he was holding the Power. He let it go, and gave his friend a pat on the head. "There, there, Surefoot, I meant no alarm. I was just thinking." Brendan then realized that he was before a fork in the road, and hadn't given Surefoot a direction in which to travel. He chuckled to himself. "Ah, I see."
His attention turned back to the path before him, Brendan guided his mount towards the southern fork, and started towards Salidar, and the mission he had been given: infiltration and subjugation. And if that's on the impossible side, I'll do what I always do. His hand touched the Heron-marked sword at his side, the scabbard and blade within blacker than pitch. I will unleash the Breaker, and destroy those who stand in my way.