Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-02-15 23:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !narrative, aspel cassul |
Secret side of me, I never let you see, I keep it caged, I can't control it, So stay away from me...
Who: Aspel & NPC.
What: Finding out the plan.
Where: Emillion streets.
When: Today
Rating: R? - WARNINGS: Extreme violence, graphic violent threats, thoughts of a very disturbing nature, abusive language, torture like interaction.
Status: Complete
It wasn’t uncommon for a stranger to be wandering about the streets of Emillion seemingly confused. This poor lad would simply fall under the category of new comerto the city’s twisting corridors. “Good day.” Aspel greeted, a soft smile converging upon her lips. Certainly, it wouldn’t take long to help direct this man to what he may be looking for, and honestly, she could use a divergence from where her thoughts had been going anyway. “Is there something in particular that I may be able to assist you with?” “The Albrecht’s.” His response was curt. In fact, his whole manner of dress instantly became a bit off putting with this information considering the ragged state of his appearance. Aspel undoubtedly, and instantly would place him as someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors, and from… “But of course.” Her smile remained. “Please, if you would be so kind as to follow me.” A brief gesture was made with one hand, the movement easy even as she motioned in the way they - supposedly - needed to head, and then began to walk in the gestured direction. A low grunt came from the man, and he shifted within his shoes, a glance about given before he hesitantly began to follow after the smith. “It must be rather important business if you must venture to the estate of such a graced estate, no?” Another low grunt from the man. “Are you from a count? I have heard the Albrecht’s have been entertaining potential marriage proposals for their daughter.” “No.” “Ah, a new business partner, perhaps?” “Sure.” “And your business is?” “None of yours.” “Simply attempting to make conversation, good sir. It is quite the walk from where we are before we arrive.” “How long?” “I would venture twenty minutes.” The answer seemed to make the man more uncomfortable, but it was the best she had. However, the entire presence that the other hume had set seemed to house more sheer discomfort than anxiety. “I may know of a short cut coming up ahead, if you would not mind entertaining my absent chatter for a bit longer?” A low grunt, for now, that would be good enough. “Have you ventured into Emillion before?” “Yes.” “Not often I take?” “No.” “Does your business take you out of the city often?” “Yes.” “Are you a trader of sorts?” “Yes.” “And your goods?” “Depends.” “Upon?” “The season.” “Ah, are you a seller of perishables then?” “Yes.” “Are the Albrecht’s planning a celebration of some sort?” “Sure.” “Would you happen to know of what kind?” “Are you always so nosey?” His tone had begun to bristle. “Ah,” A finger raised into the air. “My apologies.” The smile that had flickered away reappeared. “The shortcut is down this alley I believe.” “Believe or know? I don’t have time to waste.” “Know, good sir. My apologies, my manner of speech is a bit queer.” Before Aspel could even finish her sentence, the man had began to head down the dimly lit alley, and the smith would be required to take a quickened pace, stretching out her stride in order to even remotely catch up with him. “Sir.” “I’ll find my way.” “Sir, I fear-” “Shut up, whore.” And she snapped. A hand reached out, quickly grabbing the man’s shoulder, and yanking him back. With the slight stumble she’d clearly thrown off his entire plan with her shocking level of strength immediately tossing his plans for forward movement off completely. “What the fuck, you Faram damned-” And he turned right into her knuckles colliding with his jaw. A slight outcry occurred from the impact of the blow, and Aspel immediately stepped up, thoughts churning tumultuously underneath the surface, a dagger drawn from her belt and pressed strongly against the man’s stomach. “Move at all, and you shall not make it to the end of the alley before you find your intestines tangled about your feet.” Her voice hissed, the blade pressed in against the man’s clothing more, and he shifted, as if beginning to struggle against her, and Aspel’s hand came up, cupping over the man’s mouth and slamming the back of his head against the wall to make his world spin just a bit more. The man would weakly begin to struggle again, and the knife began to slice through his outer clothing, before she shifted the dagger down slicing through his belt much like a hot knife through butter. With his pants loosening she switched the position of the knife up once more. “Move again, and it will be your guts next.” The smith’s voice remained low, a growl clinging to its edges, and the man seemed to calm slightly. If it was out of fear, or the simple realization that he no longer had the advantage in this situation, that was yet to be known. “I will remove my hand from your mouth after I finish speaking, and I advise that you answer the questions I will ask, and that you not attempt to call for help, or run. Nod if you understand.” He would simply nod. “Good boy.” A certain darkness had crept into her eyes, and the power hungry, angry nature of it couldn’t be denied. “Now I wish to know of the nature of your business with the Albrecht’s, who has sent you, where you have come from, how long you intend to stay within Emillion’s walls, and your name. If you will not answer, then I will personally take to removing your finger and toe nails before cutting of each finger joint by joint, and cauterizing the wounds so that you shall be allowed a release from this world until I wish it. You would be amazed, how long a hume can live when sections of meat have been carved away from the bones, or when other extremities have been removed.” Her hand pressed against his crotch even if the knife blade would not move. “Do you understand?” The man’s eyes widened, but he would nod again. “Now you may speak.” With that her hand would rise from his mouth, but the knife pressed more firmly against him. “The daughter, Geniveve, I was sent to bring her parents a ransom note.” “Ransom?” A harsh edge, threatening in its own right caused the question to nearly be barked, as Aspel attempted to keep her voice low, and the knife began to lower. “Yes.” The man’s voice squeaked. “With what you have told me, am I to believe that this is kidnapping request?” “Yes.” “Where?” “W-where?” “Where are they?” “The outlands.” “Where in the outlands?” Words came growled through gritted teeth. “You have enough.” A sharp growl escaped, and the hand which had covered the man’s mouth slipped up into is hair, fisting, and slamming the back of his head against the wall. “The location.” “Fucking bitch.” The knife ripped through his clothing, causing the man’s pants to sag, and threaten to fall to his feet. “Sunleth Pass!” “Your time in Emillion?” “Fuck you.” “Unacceptable.” It was amazing how easily a sharpened knife sunk through flesh. “Ugn, ju-just to deliver this.” A shaking hand attempted to move, to retrieve something from a pocket. With a slight shift of the knife, pain shot through him, and Aspel’s hand rose to pluck the paper from his jacket pocket. “Consider it delivered.” The man couldn’t help but whimper in pain, trying to push Aspel away, and she simply twisted the knife more. “Your name.” “Steiner.” Shoving the knife in deeper, and grabbing a fist full of hair once more, the smith would slam the man’s head against the wall once more with as much force as she could muster. Once. Twice. Thrice until his body began to slump, flesh being further sliced around the knife. “Dismissed.” With that, the bloodied dagger was pulled from the man’s body, wiped against his clothing to clear the blood, and quickly stowed away in such a manner as it could not be seen as he slumped unconscious to the ground. He’d wake in a few hours, she was certain. For now, the plan of action would now be simple: Save Vivi. |