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* Shar lurks in the shadows a few blocks from Cat's estate shop. To those few who notice him, he seems no more than a passed-out drunk. <Shar> ::Patient as a blade of grass, Shar watches, and waits. Finally, Angel emerges from the shop, alone. Shar follows him for a few blocks, carefully and skillfully.:: * Angel leaves the shop, bowing once from the doorway to whoever is inside, and sets off along his way. * Angel gives no sign of awareness, but heads off down the street, taking a side street towards his destination. Or perhaps to set up an ambush. <Shar> ::As Angel turns into the side street, Shar nearly smiles. He runs a hand through his short, shaggy black hair, and pauses at the entrance to the darker street for a bare instant - deliberately tipping his hand? - before following.:: * Angel blends into the shadow along the side of a building and loosens his longknife in its sheath. He waits, watching. * Shar pauses, just shy of Angel's hiding place, then sits on the ground. "We share an enemy." <Angel> ::calmly:: I was wondering what you wanted. <Shar> You have too much skill to be wasted as a bodyguard. We could use your talents. <Angel> ::a slight ghost of a smile touches his lips:: What enemy are we sharing? <Shar> The mage, of course. Or mages, though I suspect the second is only a phantom of imagination. Strange that one so skilled would use you so poorly - did you back his predecessor in the bid? <Angel> ::raises on eyebrow:: Perhaps he thinks I... ::licks his top lip slightly, as if thinking:: Oh, yes. That I lack ambition. <Shar> ::laughs, faintly contemptuous:: Mages. They think that they can have whatever they wish, never mind that it might belong to another... Power. Wealth. ::gives Angel a quick, knowing look:: Women. <Angel> They have their uses. ::taps the side of his nose:: And you can always smell them coming. ::gives the stranger a quick, piercing glance:: <Shar> True... But this one seems to have gotten a bit beyond himself, wouldn't you say? The streets speak, if one has the ears to listen... The streets say the mage betrayed the chosen heir. And your talents go to waste, guarding her... We could use a man with your talents. A man with ambition could go far. <Angel> ::shrugs one shoulder:: The work is pleasant on the eyes, at the least. But I'm listening... <Shar> Horn is careful. You could be lying, after all. So: Kill the mage, and you're in. Not so much, for a man of your talents, hm? For a man you've wanted to kill for years, anyhow? <Angel> ::tilts his head to one side:: And here I thought I was being careful. What gave away my dislike for him, if I might ask? Dangerous information for me to leave laying about, don't you think? <Shar> ::snorts:: The streets speak. They say you do more than enjoy her view, hm? ::almost-smiling:: Doesn't take much to put it together. No man likes to share his woman. <Angel> ::his lips practically disappear as he presses them together:: I see. ::appears to consider:: Perhaps something can be arranged, after all. ::his mouth twitches:: I'll require a magic blade. His defenses aren't penetrable by lesser steel. <Shar> ::considers briefly:: That can be arranged. <Angel> ::nods once:: All right. In three days time, I'll take my supper alone at the Dragon's Den. Until then, stay away from me. Mages have eyes in the strangest places. <Shar> Of course. * Shar stands, bows in Kara-Tur fashion, and backs away. He has disappeared utterly within a block. * Angel bows sharply. "Give your master my regards..." * Angel appears lost in thought for a time, leaning against the side of the building, his breath quick and somewhat agitated. After some time, he turns on his boot heel and strides off. * Angel heads down the street, looking around aimlessly. After a while, he spots a likely candidate - a young girl with a smear of ink across her jaw. He drops to one knee beside her. "I need a favor." His voice is low, barely enough to carry. * Smudge takes half a step away, her knuckles whitening on the small sheaf of papers in her hand. "I don' do 'favors.' This ain't the Island." <Angel> ::nods slightly:: I'm aware. ::he carefully does not meet her gaze or look at her:: If you'd be so kind as to let your... liberator know that I need a moment of his time? Whenever it's convenient for him, of course. There was a little shop down from the school where the lady with brown eyes enjoyed lunch. Ask him if he could drop by there? <Smudge> ::gives Angel a dubious look, rubbing absently at the ink on her cheek and succeeding only in making the spot bigger:: * Angel slides two gold coins from his pocket. "It's important. And... " He stands up. "Ask him to wear a different face." <Angel> ::he drops the coins in her hand and leaves without looking back:: * Smudge looks down at the coins, then looks back at Angel. Abruptly, she spins on her heel and runs down a street in almost the opposite direction from her first path. * Angel spends a while running errands around town, meandering in a large, meaningless circle before finally heading over to the small cafe. * Angel purchases several pastries, the saleswoman wrapping them up in waxed paper. He takes a pastry and sits down at one of the tables outside. <Dawn> ::A nattily-dressed young man emerges from the shop and takes the table next to Angel's. He unfolds a pastry, takes a bite, and then drops it distastefully, pouting like a spoiled child.:: No, it just won't do... I can't *believe* they ran out of angel-food cake! * Angel eyes the poofy young man. "I know another shop, if it please you, my lord. I could escort you?" His voice is almost fawningly servile. <Dawn> Do you? ::brightening slightly:: That would be most welcome, sirrah. ::he stands, casting a haughty look back at the shop:: To think, they said they wouldn't have more until next dawn! <Angel> ::a quick-flash smile:: This way, my lord. I only come here because my young lady is so fond of their eclairs... ::he indicates the waxed paper package:: * Dawn waves imperiously for Angel to lead the way. * Angel leads the way down the street. "Of course, I heard a disturbing rumor that she might not be my young lady any longer." He glances sidelong at the young man. <Dawn> ::stumbles, and barely recovers, then glances around at the others on the street:: Certainly not the sort of rumor any man would wish to hear... <Angel> ::nods slightly:: Certainly not. Especially since her fellow of choice would be one of my closest friends, that I've trusted my life and more than my life to. <Dawn> ::a little breathlessly:: Well, you did say it was a rumor... Have you asked your friend? Or, for that matter, your young lady? Rumors are such nasty things... ::looks around surreptitiously but somewhat desperately for a nearby alley:: * Angel puts one hand on the young man's shoulder. "Careful now. I wouldn't want you to stumble." * Dawn does not flinch at Angel's touch. Nor does he reveal the amount of effort required to achieve that. "Just don't do anything hasty." <Angel> ::gives the young man a reassuring grin... with perhaps a few more teeth showing than is truly comfortable:: The advice to... do away with my rival was offered to me by... a new friend. My new friend is even willing to provide some assistance. In a few days. That shouldn't be too hasty, should it? <Dawn> ::gives Angel a sharp look:: Your new friend doesn't care much for the old one, eh? Another lady? <Angel> ::rubs the side of his chin:: Well, he seems to think my rival has... underused a man of my capabilities, and that his master - a bard, I believe. Something about horns, at any rate - would be a much better friend to me. <Dawn> Oh, musicians... ::sniffs pompously:: You can't trust musicians. They treat *everyone* like an instrument. <Angel> Well, this one appears to... believe many things that he hears. I believe he intends to put my rival out of business. Permanently. Did you have any thoughts how my rival might handle the problem? Your insight would be of great help in confronting him, I think. <Dawn> ::considers:: I begin to doubt that he is your rival. Especially if your new friend is the one who passed on this rumor about your young lady... Musicians, I have found, have an annoying predilection for romantic nonsense with neat endings. I think you and your old friend should sit down and discuss the matter in detail. <Angel> ::nods:: I believe we should as well. Perhaps this is all a big misunderstanding. But we should be careful. My bardic friend might be a little cross if we go meddling with his tune... Perhaps, after you have your cake, I'll arrange to have lunch with a certain older gentleman of my family. I'm sure he'd be happy to provide a... neutral and safe environment for our discussions. <Dawn> The very thing, I agree. Perhaps you should let the musician think it all has to do with the elimination of your rival. <Angel> ::lets his voice drop slightly:: On an interesting note, my rival has a friend of his own... one that this musician thinks is naught but a shadow... imagine that! But look, here is the shop I promised you, my lord. ::he indicates a cake store across the street:: I'm sure you'll find their wares acceptable. <Dawn> ::chuckles deprecatingly:: Well, shadows have substance, or so learned men have said... Thank you, sirrah, for your assistance. I hope to purchase my sweet and be home before dusk. And here, a trifle for your trouble. ::Tosses a coin to Angel, and strides across the street without bothering to look for oncoming wagons or carriages:: * Angel pockets the coin and wanders off towards home. |
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