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* Dawn comes out of the Weasel's Warren, squinting slightly as the lowering sun strikes his eyes. He fishes a few folded scraps of paper from his pocket and opens the first, looking it over with the air of a man who's already memorized the message, but is hoping it might have changed. * Dawn stuffs the notes back in his pocket, then crosses the street to a pastry vendor and buys several meat pastries. He rotates his arm at the shoulder, as if it's stiff, but before his elbow comes level with his ear, he winces, and drops it again with a sigh. He takes a huge bite of one of his pastries, and heads down the street. <Narrator> ::The street's business has picked up a bit with the approaching dark. The day laborers are on their way to their evening pint or their dinners, the night movers are starting to come out of the woodwork. A streetwalker adjusts the short hem of her dress and primps herself a little as she starts strolling up and down her corner. A Dragon, probably bought, by her remarkably tolerant attitude, watches the streetwalker for a moment or two.:: <Narrator> ::The Dragon scans the street idly, and saunters on.:: * Dawn gives the prostitute a distant, no-I'm-not-interested smile as he passes her, his mind still on the contents of his messages. <Sassy> ::The prostitute pouts a little at his polite smile and follows after him a little, "working it" as they say in the street parlance. She leans forward, displaying her copious charms to his disinterested gaze in hopes of attracting his attention:: C'mon, honey, give us a bit of a quick one, do. Sassy'll take *good* care of you, make you forget those worries that make you frown so! <Dawn> You'd only add to the others, though. Find another mark, doll. <Sassy> Aww, don't be that way, loverboy... I'm clean, get checked once a week, I've the healer's writ right here! C'mon, just a half-silver for a quickie, two for an hour! I've a place just down the street.... C'mon, you look like a man who could use a little comforting. * Dawn shakes his head and continues on down the road. <Narrator> ::The prostitute trails after him a few more paces, begging his custom with honeyed words and lewd looks. As he passes beyond her corner, she turns into a shrew, loudly questioning his manhood, his taste, his parentage, his health, and his constitution. A few passers-by glance over and smirk a bit, the Dragon included. She crosses to Dawn's side of the street. "Pipe down, Sassy!" She eyes Dawn. "Want me to bring 'er in for disturbing the peace, sir?" <Dawn> Nah, she's just tryin' to make a living, like the rest of us. By the time I've gone another block, she'll've found someone else to keep her company. ::he nods amiably to the Dragon, and continues on his way:: <Dragon> ::looks him up and down quickly:: Right open-minded of you, sir. Evening, then. ::she offers him an idle two-fingered salute as he turns away:: <Dragon> ::instead of turning and continuing on her own way down the street, the Dragon falls into step behind Dawn, her footfalls suddenly almost noiseless. As she drops her casual salute, her fingers extract a long, thin blade from somewhere within her helmet. The point looks faintly discolored in the setting sun. In a smooth movement, she pitches it at Dawn's retreating back.:: * Dawn is alerted by the Dragon's *lack* of noise, as much as anything else. He takes a sudden jog forward, just in time for her throw. The blade snags on his ratty cloak's folds, and fails to break his skin, though his shirt underneath has a new hole in its back. He spins on the ball of his foot, taking in the number of witnesses, and then sprints for a nearby alley. * Dragon curses and sprints after him, bellowing, "Stop, in the name of the Regent!" * Dawn lingers in the alley only long enough to be certain the Dragon is giving chase, and then leads her deeper into the maze of shadows. Finally, several blocks distant, he turns to confront her, his dagger drawn and ready. <Bloody Mary> ::Somewhere along the way, the "Dragon" has managed to ditch her helmet and tabard. Beneath, she is a slim, athletic-looking woman dressed in loose dark grey clothing. Her dark red hair is worn up.:: * Dawn doesn't wait to banter. He throws a miniature fireball at her, followed closely by the dagger. <Bloody Mary> ::The assassin's moves are graceful and quick, almost dance-like. As the fireball approaches, a pendant around her neck flashes to life, and the little ball of flame rolls harmlessly off an invisible barrier. She parries the dagger with one of her own, sending it clattering off to one side. With her free hand, she draws another slim throwing dagger and hurls it towards Dawn's chest.:: * Dawn dances sideways, away from the dagger's path. He lifts an arm to throw a dart, then grunts in pain and drops his arm again. He flings a spell, instead, trying to trap the assassin in magical webbing. <Bloody Mary> ::She dodges most of the gooey mess, but catches the back of one leg squarely in the web and hisses a vile curse. She reaches into her clothes and comes up with several small pellets between her fingers, flinging to them to the ground between the two of them before trying to saw at the web with her knife. The pellets explode with painfully bright flashes of light and a great deal of smoke.:: * Dawn doesn't bother trying to focus his eyes, after the flashes of light. He casts a spell instead that lifts a subtle green cloud off the floor of the alley near her feet. * Bloody Mary chokes and coughs in the noxious green mist, trying to hold her breath against it as she scrabbles in a pocket for something. * Dawn throws a dart at her with his good arm, and then shakes out another, throwing it, too. His goal has less to do with hitting her and more to do with trying to make her exert herself so she breathes in the mist. * Bloody Mary wrenches free of the last bit of web with a faint tearing of clothes, throwing herself drunkenly out of the way of the dart. She fumbles a small vial free of a hidden pocket, pops the wax cork, and draws in a ragged, hacking breath to down its contents. <Dawn> ::While she is drinking, Dawn hisses out another spell. His hand throws a ball of nothing, like a sparking heat shimmer, toward the assassin. The ball grows rapidly to engulf the assassin and her surrounding area. The green mist disappears.:: * Bloody Mary staggers backwards and shakes her head violently to clear it. She looks puzzled when the shimmering spell appears to do nothing. She takes the opportunity of the "dud" spell to toss a few more flash-bangs at Dawn, following them up with another thrown knife. <Dawn> ::Vision distorted by the flash-bangs, Dawn misses the knife entirely, and gasps as it lodges in his chest, missing his heart by half a hand-span. He wrenches it out and yanks out his own antivenom even before he feels any effects.:: * Dawn downs half the antivenom, then pours the other half into the wound. "You fucking bitch..." * Bloody Mary hears his gasp and allows herself a small grin, darting forward rapidly on the balls of her feet with another knife in hand. Except for the light on the blade, she is almost invisible in the growing shadows of the alley-- they eye has a hard time keeping track of her. <Bloody Mary> ::in a papery whisper, with a laugh like the rustle of dead leaves:: Lots of people call me that. Everyone else calls me Bloody Mary. * Dawn snorts and summons a wall of flames that surround him in a circle, thicker than his arm is long. "I'll call you Burning Mary." * Bloody Mary smirks and leaps through the wall, trusting to her amulet to ward off Dawn's fire. As the flames embrace her, the amulet remains quiet and dull. She screams in angered surprise. * Dawn laughs and catches her as she comes through the flames toward him. He snatches at her arm with the knife and tries to twist it around behind her back. * Bloody Mary struggles with him for mastery of her knife hand. Her hair, once the color of dying flames, has turned into leaping flames, crackling around her head. As Dawn slowly forces her arm down and back, she reaches desperately for another blade. <Dawn> ::Without letting go of her blade hand, Dawn shoves her forward into the flaming wall.:: Give it up, bitch. * Bloody Mary screams again, breaking off into a soundless wail as she breathes in fire. The knife drops from her hand, the hilt bouncing harmlessly off Dawn's boot, as the shock of burning sets her body to shaking. * Dawn banishes the flames and throws her to the ground, planting his knee firmly on her spine, keeping her arm twisted brutally behind her back. "Name names, bitch." <Bloody Mary> ::her voice is a crow's ugly croaking, and half her face is burned black. Somehow, in the midst of the pain, she manages a whispered laugh:: Tower... word is, Tower's taken down Mace, you stupid fool. He's got the ring, I've seen it... five... dots on you... dead man.... ::goes limp:: * Dawn grunts and rolls her over, slapping her face to wake her up. "Where is he? Tell me where to find him, bitch." * Bloody Mary groans, fluttering to consciousness enough to try to spit in Dawn's face before succumbing again. * Dawn snarls, shrugs, and finishes the job. He sways as he stands, and leans against the nearest building for a moment, groaning softly. "Fuck... Gotta get home." |
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