Spirits of the Earth

WARNING: CONTAINS EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS OF GORE AND SEXUAL ACTIVITY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Decimus never recieved many contracts from his anonymous advisors in Yoreiq. Of course, he still took a boat out to the chain of islands, finding it quite thrilling to be doing something different. Going somewhere new, to help more people. Or... That's what he was told. A prince who had neglected his people, forcing them into tight, miserable shacks, sending soldiers out to steal their valuables to afford his towering fortress, which was built with only the best materials. This was on the far end of Yoreiq, but it still needed to be addressed.

He was told that his contact would be waiting for him in the tavern near the port he was docking at. Currently, he was sleeping in, the tide fairly calm so he could to begin with. Once he heard the loud bell signaling that he arrived at his destination, he quickly threw the blankets off of his body and got on his tunic, racing from the cabin. He squinted as he was introduced to the blinding light, the sky a clear blue with no clouds in sight, except those that rested on the horizon. The sun was just above the clouds, which meant that dusk wasn't far.

He looked towards the ramp leading down to the dock below, where a sea of passengers were getting off. Walking to the edge of the ship, he looked towards the village up ahead, which were filled with crowds of people cheering their loved ones' arrival. Luckily, he had no real loved ones besides his mother. And for all he knew, she was dead by now. He surely hoped not... But it was probably the case. Once most were down the ramp, he walked down slowly and made his way towards the huge crowd. Shoving past them impatiently, he stayed perfectly silent as he went down the dirt path through the village and looked for a tavern.

All of the buildings looked exactly alike. Some weren't hard to pick out, such as the blacksmith and the lumber mill. Others however, were different. Simple wood structures with bamboo rooves, the windows having no glass and beads hanging down from the doorways, but no door to speak of. He sighed in frustration as he was unable to find what he was looking for, until his eyes landed on a building attached to the dock. It stood on stilts, two symmetrical staircases leading to the entrance. He was going to go out on a limb and say that it was intended for fishermen and navigators, not assassins looking for their contact.

Walking back to the dock, he went up one of the staircases and walked through the hanging beads. From the outside, he could hear traditional Yoreiq music, as well as tribal shouts in a language he could not understand. On the inside, booths linded the walls of the tavern, the middle occupied by a band and many scantily-clad women dancing to the music. He looked around, his eyes catching a balding man in a fur coat... Another nobleman? Or just some rich merchant in the area? He was told that he'd find a man in a fur coat, but he didn't expect something so... Elegant. Either way, he walked around the main floor towards his booth, taking a seat.

"I didn't expect you to actually come... With all of this talk regarding a beast in the waters of Hivan, it would not surprise me if something similar would be found in our native oceans as well." He spoke. He looked to be an older man, his short, curly black hair slightly greying at the roots, his face only slightly wrinkling. He had a goatee and a well-groomed mustache, the goatee tied into a bun at the tip. "Luckily, no. Not even a storm to speak of. I had a safe travel." Decimus replied, crossing his fingers as he laid his arms on the table, wearing his rings, as per usual. "I'm glad. We will begin business when your partner shows."

Decimus gritted his teeth. He didn't work well with partners...

"Said partner is already here, old fool," a harsh, feminime voice resounded. Slowly, something formed in the shadows, a red, piercing set of eyes became visible, before a woman stepped from the darkness, folding her arms slowly. "I merely waited she stated," as she gave a cold stare to Decimus.

The penetrating red eyes Kurenai possessed flicked over to the elder man. "Talk." She said as she walked over, leaning against the table.

Decimus heard the voice, immediately giving a heavy sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Wonderful... He was going to be working with a complete bitch. When he looked over, he noticed that the voice didn't match the person at all. She looked much younger than he would've anticipated. Still, the glare she gave to him let Decimus know that he was looking at the right person. He looked back at the man, his gaze stoic. "She seems delightful."

The man shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I was aware who I would be working with. Decimus Nero, the jester assassin known worldwide as, 'Komiddy,' and the bloody psychopath known as Kurenai. More of a serial killer than an assassin, but it'll have to do." He revealed his knowledge of the two, giving a wary look to Kurenai. Decimus narrowed his eyes. Serial killer? She had no moral code? She killed for sport, rather than for a certain cause, like him? Not even money? Oh boy... They'd be butting heads soon enough...

"Here's the deal. And both of you listen well. The prince you are instructed to kill is known locally by the name of Millen Windrider. He's a scoundrel, living in a massive fortress which continues to grow to this day. A life of luxury, with only the best servants and the best chefs. Robes made of the rarest and most expensive fabrics... While his citizens are neglected and stolen from, forced into miserable shacks where up to three families are packed in at once." The man shook his head, clenching his fists as he got angrier and angrier.

Decimus sighed. "You're not giving me any information I didn't already know." He crossed his arms. "I need to know specifics. Ways into the castle. How tight security is. A basic layout would be nice as well. Number of floors. Rooms per floor. Number of towers." He told him. The man became slightly agitated. "I'm getting to it. There's an old sewer system that hasn't been used in ages, on the east side of the fortress. It should lead down to the castle's main dungeon. It isn't heavily guarded. In fact, the most you'll find are torturers." He explained. Decimus leaned back, tilting his head as he let him continue.

"From there, it's a game of ascending stairs and doing your damnedest not to be caught. The main keep is the largest. It consists of four floors, the throne room, the training room, the spa, and the guest bedrooms. There are three towers, consisting of treasuries and libraries, for the most part. However, at the top of the third tower lies the prince's chambers. You'll find your target there." The man finished. Decimus looked at his partner, then at the man. "A night operation... I'm assuming the guards are too active during the day?" He asked. The man nodded. "Very much so. Though it is still dangerous, regardless. Proceed with caution."

Decimus nodded at all the information he had been given. "I think I'm ready to begin. But before I leave, I want to know how you know so much about the fortress. Most direct me to someone else. A builder, or nobleman who had seen the inside." He said. The man hesitated before looking up at Decimus angrily. "That fortress used to be mine... Millen was my brother. The bastard convinced my father that I had stolen from him, and I was removed from the throne. Here he is now, enslaving the village girls and stealing valuables for his own greedy purposes! I cannot let him continue." He snarled.

Decimus wasn't exactly shocked. The man looked to be wealthy. He seemed to know too much to be a regular man. Still... The thought of a brother resorting to have his own flesh and blood slaughtered was one that Decimus could not wrap his head around. "Very well. Wish granted."

Kurenai didn't seem to care to respond to the rather sarcastic comment Decimus made. She snorted however, as she heard her name, rather than her title. "Dark Echo," she replied, crimson eyes flicking with something dangerous. "And I am ontop of the foodchain," she replied with a haughty huff. It'll have to do, her name was a legend amongst the highest ranks of the assassins.

The following explanation didn't seem to matter to her much, even when he started to explain the lay-out of the building, yet she was already making a map in her mind, able to remember even the littlest of details.

She wasn't interested what the motives were, she didn't care whether they were sent to kill a villain or a hero. One thing did matter to her, it was a kill partially to enact revenge. She sighed softly. "Do you want the target to suffer? Perhaps made an exemple off? I can hang him from one of the towers or just gore him up," she inquired, voice as stoic and cold. As if she was asking how he liked his meat fried.

Decimus glanced slowly over at her, a brow raised as she made her suggestion to the man, who seemed to be slightly intimidated, for lack of a better word. "U-Uhm... No. The kill will do just fine... Uhm... 'Dark Echo.'" He told her. Decimus just scoffed, somewhat amused at the obvious psychopath next to him. Nothing new... In his time, he had seen many just like her. The name, 'Dark Echo' did ring a bell, though... It was a name looked up to by various assassins. Assassin would be a very loose label, though, as Dark Echo was primarily known to kill anyone, regardless of whether or not she was getting paid or not. No moral standards, no friend of his. That's the way he saw it.

"You definitely know your assassins... Not to be egotistical, but you picked the best in the business. And I've heard many good things about the lady." Good... Somewhat. If you were talking about how effective she was, then sure. But as far as killing on a dime, with no regrets or moral compass, she was a wretched Hellspawn. Decimus wouldn't tell her this, though. Of course not. The last thing he needed was to make an enemy out of his only partner. Standing, he gave a huff. "You know the drill. I expect no coin when I return. All I want is the tyrant dead, and replaced with someone worthy of ruling. While I'm in, I'll be freeing the girls he's taken into slavery. Mark my words, I do not fail. I'd be ashamed to show my face ever again, if I did. And who knows what my father might've said, if he was still alive."

He paused, realizing a bit too late that he had revealed a bit too much information about himself. Glancing at Kurenai, he gave a low sigh before nodding and walking from the table. As he did, he pulled a small vial of black liquid from his satchel, pouring some into the man's drink, which sat on the edge of the table. He didn't look back as he walked from the tavern, hearing the man's panicked, pain-filled gagging and coughing behind him. He narrowed his eyes, trying not to feel guilt for his actions. The guy learned too much about the infamous Komiddy to continue living. For all Decimus knew, he was a loudmouth who couldn't keep a secret. He took a step out of the tavern, the door closing behind him as the man's body hit the floor.

"So be it," if it wasn't for her stoic expression, or her ice cold voice, she almost sounded disappointed. And it was true. It was a lack of a challenge to her. She huffed softly as she came up in the conversation again, though not in the slightest bit did she think of partaking.

Nor did she care for witnessing how Decimus would poison the man, she merely accompanied him outside, uncaring for his little speech. He seemed like an alright sorts. Just too theatrical, too.. Guided by a purpose, too 'good'. She shook her head with a soft sigh as she heard the man's body dropping. She could easily guess what was going through his mind now.

An assassin with a moral compass. What a joke, that was truly the Komiddy in this entire situation.

An assassin was someone who got paid to murder people. End off. There were no exceptions, no discrimination. A client paid and a target died. That was how the world of assassination worked.

That brought her to the next point of business. She let out a tired sigh. "Obviously, you don't kill a contract before you get paid. Perhaps you have a conscience and all that bullshit. I just want to get paid." She snorted. "I don't do charity work. So I hope you're packing gold. Since you just ruined my income. And while I'd love ripping your little throat out and watch you flail, I know you need me for this. Else I wouldn't be called here. So, while I'm not going to snap and go on a mass murdering spree, I'm going to simply request of you," she sighed softly. "To explain to me just how the FUCK you're going to pay my usual fee."

As he walked, his accomplice chattering away and mouthing him off just mere feet behind, he rolled his eyes, his index finger and thumb moving up to rub the bridge of his nose as he looked back at her. "... Are you done?" He asked, his headache growing with every word she spoke. Perhaps it was her shrill voice, or the fact that she wouldn't shut up.

Turning to her, his face close to hers and his eyes narrowed into a serious, no nonsense expression, he opened his mouth to speak. "You and I have nothing in common. You're a fiend. A killer without a sense of compassion. A true assassin. I hate those types. I do things a little differently. Each kill has its purpose. You can either accept that, or shut your mouth and say nothing at all. Because nothing you say will change the way I conduct business." His words were quiet, making sure nobody could hear them as he looked around.

Backing up from her, he sighed, turning and continuing to walk. He knew better than that... A little talk wasn't going to make Kurenai's endless complaining and judgement of his craft cease. Still, it was a valiant effort. "As far as your pay is concerned, that castle has a big treasury. Take as much as your pockets can carry once we're finished. I assure you it'll be much more than whatever he could offer you." He told her, gesturing back to the tavern. He continued down the path, far away from the shore and tavern, which was now in an uproar. After a long travel by ship to Yoreiq, he really didn't want to be reminded of the ocean. Now he had a real reason to book it, as he was probably the #1 suspect of his client's death.

Most men... Or anyone for that matter would never dare to speak to such a dangerous woman in the way that Decimus had been speaking to her. However, it wasn't entirely true that him and her had nothing in common. After all, they were both assassins. Decimus had killed and done battle with many bad people. People that most would shy away from getting involved with in the first place. So it was safe to say that Kurenai wasn't that intimidating to him. She had a vile reputation, but so did he. Besides, with two pepperboxes on his hips, not many could do more to him than he could to them.

"Oh, what's that. Wanna make out?" Kurenai sneered as Decimus brough his face closer to hers. "So. I'm a true assassin, what does that make you? I'll answer that, it makes you a little bitch who needs morales in a fucked up world." She snorted haughtily. "You're a misguided vigilante, at best. A typical killer that can't live with himself so makes up sorry excuses at worst." Her words however, weren't quiet. Kurenai didn't care whether she was heard, she had a reputation. And even if an entire city guard would mobilise to arrest her, they'd never catch her.

"You don't get it, huh?" She answered as she rested one hand on her belt. "It's a reputation thing. I kill. A client pays," she answered. "If I kill for a dead client. Why the fuck am I wasting the sharpness on my blades? Or the cleanliness of my clothes?" She didn't care in the slightest what happened for the tavern or her counterpart. "The amount of people I've killed. I'm fuckin' rich. I don't need to do this, I want to do this, you whelp."

Decimus could go all day with how many fallacies were in that little speech of hers, but he'd just be beating a dead horse. All in all, however, he understood what she was getting at. She had a certain way of doing things, and didn't like that process to change. Just like a spoilt child, she was going to whine if things didn't go exactly as she wanted them to. What a great accomplice to be stuck with. Well, accomplice for now. He still wasn't sure how long it'd be before they turned on each other and got the guards to break it up.

He didn't really react as she belittled him and called him out for his way of doing things, but simply rolled his eyes with every other insult as he stared forward and continued to walk. People gave strange glances in their direction, Decimus too annoyed to care as he headed deeper into the village, looking around for shops that could pose anything of use. Once she was done talking, he turned to her.

"You know what, if you have such a problem with the way I do my job, then leave. I don't need your help, and I guarantee you that you aren't saying anything to me that hasn't already been said." Decimus told her, crossing his arms. "Or, you can shut your mouth, do what you claim you enjoy doing, and then you and I don't ever have to be involved with one-another ever again. You see, I don't care either way." He added, his expression unreadable.

"I don't care about how better you are than me, I don't care what happens to you, and to be honest, I think you should drop that assassin shtick and just be honest with yourself for once. You're a serial killer. That's all you are." He growled, figuring he'd get a few shots of his own in. "At least I try and do something better for this world, rather than slitting throats for the Hell of it. Can you say the same? No. You can't. Call me an assassin, call me a coward, call me whatever you want. But just know that at the end of the day, I've accomplished something worth bragging about. Without any help from a psychotic, old bitch."

He stopped, a long silence taking over as he ended his rant towards her. He could've sworn that his hate-laced, last sentence reverberated all across the village, but he cared about his silence just as much as Kurenai seemed to care about hers. Not very much. Huffing and rubbing the bridge of his nose, he turned and continued to walk. "If you're feeling especially feisty and are tempted to stab me in the back for calling you a bitch, feel free to try. I can draw a gun a lot quicker than you can unsheathe your blade." He warned her, somewhat cockily. Before she could respond, he had already made a left into a potion shop.

The shadow assassin only grinned. "You need me for this job. And you know it."

As Decimus started to grow more annoyed, the smirk on her face only grew. She couldnt help but find this so ironic. The hypocrisy in his entire rant was laughable.

"And what has this fucking world ever done to better me?" She smirked. "Every coin I own. The blades I use or techniques I utilise. I made those, I got those with only myself. There was no world to better me. Nor was I there to better the world. I was raised with killing," she concluded easily. "This world you try to better made me."

She let out a cackling laughter, wiping away a tear when she was done with the it. "Bragging rights? You're doing this for.. For bragging rights?!" Her eyes teared up as she bursted out in laughter again.

And the laughter even resounded as he walked into the shop after he made the rather cocky remark of him being faster. Yet he'd feel cold steel against his throat, a knife slid from her gauntlet, Kurenai inexplicably was infront of him, already in the store. "You should watch your words," she growled, the laughter outside dying down. "Because your shadow follows you everywhere."

Decimus looked at her blankly, the barrel of his pepperbox pressed into her diaphragm almost as soon as he felt the steel against his throat. "I'm a three-count away from filling you with lead. Put that toy back, while you still can." He whispered. "I don't need bragging rights, lady. But you seem pretty adamant on reminding me how rich you are. I'm just letting you know that two can play at that game." He stated, a smirk growing on his lips.

"You see, I can tell you're good at what you do. You're fast. Silent. Unfortunately, that blade isn't quite as silent as you are. You should invest in a sheathe that doesn't make as much noise." He advised, pressing the barrel deeper into her skin. "You're right. This world did spit your filth out. I'm not saying that I've changed that any. But what I'm trying to do, is to make it to where people like you are a thing of the past. And once I'm done with that prince, and those people can live comfortably knowing that his reign of terror is done, I'll be one step closer to my goal." He said, the shopkeeper already racing over at the sight of their squabble.

"So, are you going to stop trying to make an enemy out of me, with all of this talk of me being a coward and delusional? Or do you still feel like inflating that ego of yours? Because I'm a bullet away from being free of a major headache I've had ever since I left the tavern." He stated menacingly, his smirk fading and being replaced with a glare. He was tired of arguing with her, that was for sure. Nothing she had said so far had really hit him deep, but had just proven to irritate him to the point of wanting to cut her tongue out. Believe it or not, he'd hate for it to have to come to that.

"Y-You two! Come, now! There's no need for all of this, right!?" The shopkeeper said, Decimus turning his glare to him as he chuckled nervously. Looking back at Kurenai, he opened his mouth to speak. "Three potions of invisibility. I've got a pouch of coin to pay for it." With that, he handed the shopkeeper the money, who hurried off to get what he requested. "This is the last time I'll say it. I have a job to do, and I don't need your help doing it. Stay out of my hair, I'll stay out of yours, and we'll never have to see each other's ugly faces again after this is over."

Twirling his pistol, he holstered it before pushing her blade out of the way, walking over to the shopkeeper, who had gathered his potions for him. Once he was done, he was out of the shop, prepared to finally tune out Kurenai's taunts like he should've done to start with. Heading down the road to a rather large inn, he headed inside, needing a place to make the proper preperations and plans for their attack that evening.

Kurenai couldn't help but chuckle slightly and lower the blade from his throat. "Good," she started, putting her free hand on the pistol. "But sloppy," she leaned forward to press a soft, almost loving kiss on his cheek. "You forgo certainty.. That might kill me," she gripped his hand softly and moved it around, to settle it against her chest again, at her heart. "That will," she answered, before pulling it up against her throat. "This will," she said again, before pulling the pistol lower again, now it'd be against her stomach, above her bellybutton. "This will, slowly," she concluded as she stepped back, still grinning.

"You need to be sure, the trade-off here would've been me slitting your throat. A garantueed kill," she explained, pulling the blade into her gauntlet again. "And you shooting me in the chest. A likely kill," the young and brazen. It was refreshing to see, albeit that refreshing was the only positive thing she could find in this.

She fell into step next to him, silent now, her pristine white hair with every move of her head.

Decimus' eyes were wide during the entire walk, a brow raised at her every now and then as he remained silent as well. He knew that women were no strangers to odd mood-swings, but she wasn't like most women. At least, he wouldn't think so. A psychotic killer with not very many soft spots for anyone, and she just planted a kiss on his cheek and gave some kind of constructive advice. Definitely strange.

Later on in the afternoon, at the nearby tavern, Decimus sat at the desk in his room and began the planning phase of his operation. Around him, multiple complicated diagrams and sketches of the prince's castle lay, most that he had made by examining the castle from where he could see it in the street. He had been in enough castles to judge the basic layout of this one, simply from the look of certain towers and wall placements, as well as just simple strategic logic. It also helped to have his client's description.

He had gotten multiple different angles; bird's eye, east side, west side, a rough estimate of how many guards he would have to get by, the right places for traps, a game plan for infiltrating and silently disposing of obstacles, etc.. He had no idea what Kurenai was doing, but he sincerely hoped she wasn't getting drunk. Sundown would arrive eventually, and she probably wouldn't be very happy if she missed the fun part of their job.

What did a psychotic serial killer and assassin do in her free time exactly?

Kurenai never really pondered what she would do during downtime, since she simply never cared for it. No, an assassin of her caliber had far more trivial things to do than getting drunk. She was out to trail behind gaurds to check and memorise their patrol patterns, after that, she went to the site of their assassination and scouted it out from several angles to find weakspots in the architecture to sneak in.

And all that while remaining unseen, not even the slightest suspicion of her presence was noted, not even when she snuck into the courtyard for a better look. No one knew she ever was there.

And so, as sundown came, she was already in the same room as Decimus, the thing about her special powers were that she was as silent as dead herself. She rose from the shadows, resting in his bed casually, balancing the tip of a dagger on her index finger, before coughing to get his attention, if he didn't notice her before.

Decimus didn't react to her cough, but simply stood after a little while, placing the various drawn diagrams up on the windows with a type of waxy adhesive. He examined them better in the light coming from the windows, his hands behind his back as he looked satisfied with his planning. "You came just in time. I was beginning to think you had finally gotten tired of me and left me to my own devices." He said, not looking at her as he reached for his satchel, laying it on the desk.

"If you're ready to start dicing some people up, then so am I." With that, he laid the infamous, ceramic comedy mask on the desk, facing her with its malicious grin. A faint trace of lipstick rested near the mouth of the mask, which was from a whore Decimus had met on the ship a couple days ago. It was the type of woman Decimus would've never touched, had it not been for alcohol.

He placed down the rest of his assassin attire, loading up his belt with various ammo types. Ice-shot, fire-shot... He then pocketed his throwing knives and poison daggers, sighing once everything was ready. Looking towards Kurenai, he gestured for her to turn around. "All weapons are accounted for... Every bullet, every knife... I'm definitely ready. No need to postpone the job any longer. All I need is for you to turn those eyes in another direction so I can keep at least a little modest." He joked, though his face was as serious as ever.

"Hmm," she tutted her lips. "I want to see you in action," she answered, leaning against the doorpost, examining the gauntlet around her hand as he started to go gear up. She didn't answer to his question, she was always ready to kill people. It was way easier for her to gear up. The small blade strapped to the small of her back, various knives and her wrist mounted blades.

She raised her hand infront of her face, before forming a claw, shadowy essence gathering in her palm, before pulling it down, a metal mask forming infront of her face, before turning around. "Be quick about it," she answered.

Decimus was silent as he changed into his brightly-colored outfit, making sure everything looked sharp before slipping his mask over his face, disguising his expression with a permanent grin. He then slipped his hat on, the long tendrils with bells on the end hanging behind him and nearly completely obscuring the back of his head and neck from view. The only thing that proved his Orcish ancestry was his green arms, which rippled with muscle-mass and were coated in faint scars from long ago.

"You'll see me in action. I promise you that much." He turned to her. He looked up and down over her wear. He could tell right then and there that it was intended to be practical. His was the exact opposite. It was intended to incite fear and mess with the mind. Jesters were typically seen as innocent. Just dancing, singing fools who entertained royalty. Well... What happens when the fool kills the king? The imagery alone was enough to cause people to tremble.

He gathered his diagrams, rolling them up and placing them in his satchel, along with items he typically used in his traps. He was ready. Giving her a nod, he pulled the curtains of the window aside before opening it, hopping out. He crouched in the cover of the bushes, seeing the guards walking around with bright torches in hand, simply doing their rounds. They'd have to be sneaky about this. It was already suspicious for two people to be wandering around at night, but it was even more suspicious for two people dressed like freaks to be doing it as well.

Decimus stayed low, sticking to the tall grass and shadows, where his bright colors were out of view of the passing guards. He also made sure that his footsteps were as quiet as a mouse. He wasn't going to start killing guards just yet. He needed to save his munition for the fortress, as security was guaranteed to be much more tight there than on the streets. He made sure to stay off the guards' patrol routes, travelling in dense jungle areas only. It was a long trip, but eventually, the ridiculously tall wall of the fortress was right in front of them, them being impeded from getting any closer by the abrupt cut-off of the concealing tree line.

From what he could see, two guards patrolled the outside of the wall, two more guarding the main gate while the others walked back and forth around the perimeter in differing directions. This was bound to be a challenge. However, Decimus couldn't say he disliked a challenge. One guard happened to be patrolling slightly too close to the tree line, passing directly in front of where Decimus was hidden in the bushes.

He unsheathed a dagger without a sound, waiting until the second guard had rounded the corner of the wall before suddenly launching himself out of the bush and grabbing the guard's arm, stopping him from making a sound by placing the cold steel to his throat. Dragging him back into the bush, he slowly drove the blade into the guard's soft flesh, blood pouring from the wound as Decimus impaled his throat. Letting the body go limp in the bush, the two guards at the gate stood up straight, readying their weapons and walking towards the bush slowly.

Out of nowhere, two throwing knives burst from the bush, jabbing into their skulls and sending them spiraling from the force of the impact. Decimus peaked his head up from the bush, turning to his partner. "Take care of the bodies. Get them out of sight. We'll need to scale the wall, so get ready to climb." He silently sprinted towards the wall, pulling a grappling hook from his satchel. Swinging it around a couple times, he chucked it up towards the top of the wall, the hook snagging onto the stone nicely.

"I'll see whether it's proper," she answered with a soft sigh, glancing over her shoulder, before being unable to surpress a laughter, instead, letting out a coughing chuckle at his outfit. She had heard other assassins taking symbolism in their kills, to incite fear and strike awe in their contractors. She didn't believe this to be key, sure, there was something special about playing dress-up before killing someone.

But stone-cold pragmatism may just be the most intimidating mindset around. It showed that there was no need for symbolism, or no excuses to be had. The target was going to die. End off story. As definitive as death itself.

She shrugged the thoughts off as he hopped out of the window, sighing softly, she trailed behind him, not even the sound of her drawing breath audible. It was as if she wasn't even present at all.

She stayed back as he assassinated the first guard, the two others immediately followed, arching an eyebrow. Then she huffed, disappearing with a soft puff of shadows, before appearing between the two bodies and repeating the prior occurrence, dropping both bodies in the bushes.

As he started to scale the wall with his rather primitive means, Kurenai pressed her hands together and reformed ontop of the wall, glancing around, several guards ontop of the walls with torches. Which drew long shadows.

Good. She snuck her way past, keeping to each and every shadow, almost completely dissolving in them. She found an open window, one she had noted before and slipped in, momentarily out of sight of Decimus.

Decimus, upon scaling the wall to the top, decided to be a bit more careful with how he slipped past the guards. He silently hung off the edge of the wall, shimmying along until he reached the open window. Diving in feet-first, he landed with a slight clack against the wooden floor of what appeared to be a nobleman's bedroom. Upon first glance, many would think this to be the Prince's quarters, however, Decimus quickly cast that idea aside.

"This isn't our target's room. Too small. Our guy loves his coin... There's not nearly enough gold and silver in here. Not fancy enough." His quiet voice was silenced as the door creaked open, an aging man in silk robes walking in with a small torch in hand. The torch appeared to be fizzling out slightly, the light from it quite dim and not covering much space. He walked in, his steps slow and feeble. Decimus hadn't dived for cover or hidden, but just stood as still as a statue as the old nobleman walked towards the center of the room.

Decimus was glad he had closed the window beforehand, as this was guaranteed to be loud. However, the walls were thick enough to muffle the blast, so he wasn't worried about alerting the guards. He stood right in front of the faint light shimmering into the window, his silhouette visible against it. Upon seeing this, the old man began to feel paranoid, lifting his torch out as far as he could. "Wh-Who goes there...?" He asked, inching forward even slower. Decimus narrowed his eyes, keeping as silent as a mouse as he very slowly reached down to draw his pepperbox.

Soon enough, the old man, his heart now up in his throat, came close enough that the dim light shone on the colorful garb of the assassin. "H-Hello? What are you doing here? I-I'll call the guards!" He warned. He lifted his torch ever so slightly, soon revealing the porcelain mask and its haunting grin. The old man let out a gasp and a quiet yelp, stumbling back and nearly falling down. Decimus walked towards him with the pepperbox aimed, the wide-eyed old man shaking his head ever so slightly. "Wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Pulling the trigger, the blast echoed across the walls, but not escaping them. It slightly deafened Decimus, but he didn't really care. He had gotten the chance to use his guns for the first time in Yoreiq, and the nobleman before him now laid, sprawled out on the floor with a gaping, bleeding wound going through his chest. "Bastards... Living in luxury while the common folk struggle to find scraps for dinner..." He snarled at the carcass. He looked around for his partner. "You still here?"

He walked back towards the window, opening it and looking down. "We should be on the fifth floor... Our man is probably asleep by now, and his bedchambers should be somewhere in the main tower. Our only issue is finding it from here, without alerting the guards." He said, almost inquisitively. "Well... We're wasting precious time just hanging around. Let's do this."

Stepping from the shadows in the room, Kurenai sighed. "A waste of ammunition," she murmured with a soft shake of her head. But regardless, she moved on, pushing the door open with a creak again, arching an eyebrow as she saw two guards on post. One of them noticing her and about to cry out for help.

They didn't even have time to draw a breath or blink before blood splurted up from their throats, covering the walls in crimson. At the end of the hallway, Kurenai reappeared, having taken a knee, her short, straight blade being pushed back into the sheath on her lower back.

She stood up again and glanced over her shoulder, the flat, metal face mask now covered in blood. "hide them in the room," she breathed. "Let's move on."

She pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, stepping into the darkness and just disappearing again. "Meet at the tower," her voice crackled from the shadows, before she was gone.

And she wouldn't reappear until Decimus entered the target's room, a trail of corpses following her wake.

Yet, as he entered the target's room, Decimus would notice the band of gaurds waiting for him. In the end of the room, the nobleman sitting on his couch. Kurenai stood next to him, leaning against the wall with folded arms, glancing up at Decimus with a bored look. "Took your time," she said, before sighing. "It's nothing personal. But you got rid of my payment."

"Still going on about the gold, huh?" Decimus asked her, not looking in her direction as he stared at his target. He glanced around at all the guards, not seeming intimidated. Of course, it was hard to tell behind the mask. "I've never been too fond of cowards who hide behind masks. Your little attempt at my life failed. Now, you pay the price." The prince said, his calm tone laced with anger. He looked over at Kurenai, narrowing his eyes as he watched her. She was a well-known assassin as well. The deck was becoming stacked here little-by-little, and he knew he'd have to pull out all the old tricks to survive.

He matched the general perception of what a prince would look like. A red, silk robe, an elegant crown laced with jewels... This man happened to be in his mid 30's, his hair a dark brown, which was all slicked back. He bore a goatee, his skin dry and cracked, an x-shaped scar on his chin. He had a sword on his hip, which he patted gently. "I'm afraid not. I've dropped quite a few of your lackeys already. I'm sure I can repeat the process here." Decimus growled. The prince scoffed, standing.

"You're nothing but a killer. No honor. No respect. Just a peasant who pays the taxes with a bloody knife." He spat. Decimus twirled both of his pistols. "No more of a killer than you. Stealing from your people to feed your greed? Kidnapping young girls to satisfy your lust? The peasants die in poverty in their filthy shacks while you live comfortably. No more... I have honor. I'm here to save lives." He proclaimed, the prince just laughing. "An assassin with a code! What a joke... Make this easy on yourself and surrender."

Decimus remained silent, looking over his shoulder at his partner with a huff. The same words she had been saying earlier that day... Perhaps he was crazy. Perhaps assassins were just nothing more than paid killers, and he was delusional for thinking otherwise. Still... He knew exactly why he did what he did. He went after the nobility, because nobility were prone to be tyrants. They were prone to force their subjects to their knees and treat them like rodents. That thought was disgusting... It was the same thing his father fought so hard to protest. He desperately wanted to carry on that legacy. But he vowed to do it a much more... Direct way. A permanent way to silence oppression. Silence tyranny.

"Call it a joke... But as I see it, the only real joke is you... Because once the guards are down, you'll run. Because without the armies, without the tall, sturdy walls, you're nothing. You're a little man with a god complex. I'm gonna rip that trait out into the open for all to see, then I'm gonna show you how mortal you really are." Decimus proclaimed. The prince bared his teeth. "Enough with the petty threats! End them!" The prince ordered his guards, unsheathing his blade and pointing it at them. Decimus took a step back as the guards charged them, halberds in hand. Decimus, lifting his guns, took shots, each hitting his targets' torsos and spraying blood into the air. He saved some for Kurenai purposefully, as he knew she'd enjoy the kills.

"Exactly," Kurenai answered, glancing at the prince. "I'll raid your treasury," she advised, pushing herself up straight, before looking at Decimus. "Because we're at odds here, see. Two interests collide. I just wanted money."

She glanced at the merchant prince, chuckling softly. "And this man has the correct idea. Though I don't pay taxes. I kill tax collectors," she said with a soft, menacing chuckle from behind the mask. "And I thoroughly enjoy sending messages, you fat pig."

The man shreeked his words, but it was cut off as Kurenai slammed her palm forward, against his face, the blade from her wrist flicking out to slice through it. Blood spluttering. And our lovely psychopath watched the scene with a delighted and bloodthirsty grin.

It was at that time that all in the room could feel something awakening. It came as a deep thrum throughout the room, a soft hissing. Followed by a hauntingly gentle chuckle. "The shadows hunger," Kurenai stated, a purr to her voice.

And the entire room became dark. Torches and lanterns whisked out. Whisked out like the lives of everyone but Decimus in the room. The sound of blades slicing flesh resounded. The breaking of bones and the snapping of tendons echoed. Shouts of pain and torment cried through the hallways as, in the complete darkness, the guards were torn and shred to bits. Kurenai's movement only depicted by a red light in her eyes, that traced along the room. Scattering left and right like crazy.

The overbearing darkness disappeared, allowing for the light of the moon to fall inside.

And in the middle of the room now, stood Kurenai, covered in blood and gore, eyes radiating a dim red light. Giggling softly, happily even.

Decimus went into overdrive in a similar manner to Kurenai as soon as the lights went out. Darting into the seemingly unknown, his blades hit their mark, dicing through juggulars at random and piercing hearts. Even though his vision was darkened for the most part, he could feel the warm blood gushing against his clothes, his exposed arms, and he could even hear the sloshing of the blood that pooled at his feet. This was a bloodbath if there ever was one.

However, almost as quickly as it began, it had ended. Silence soon took over the once chaotic room, and as moonlight flooded in through the window, Decimus stood in its path similar to her, one dagger skewering a guard's abdomen, and another pinning the last one alive to the wall. Panting, he tilted the blade of the first dagger downwards, allowing its victim to fall off and onto the floor with a, thump. He then looked up at the second, eyes full of fear as he gazed into the porcelain mask's giddy expression.

As he held him there, the infamous Komiddy felt a sting of pain every now and then from his side. Looking down, he was met with a shallow gash which bled very slowly. Growling, he looked up at his prey, seething with anger. "You got me... You actually got me, you son of a bitch..." He murmured, thrusting his knee up into the guard's belly. He grunted out in pain, falling to his knees. Decimus, stationed behind him at this point, drove both daggers into his spine, which ended his life right then and there.

He waited for a moment or two, catching his breath before standing groggily. He sheathed his daggers, gripping at his side and wincing just slightly. "Let's get to the treasury and dungeon, and then let's get the Hell out of here." Stumbling from the room, he took out a pepperbox, blasting holes in the few guards who charged up the stairs to meet the assassins. Each recieved bullets between the eyes, not even realizing that their prince was already dead.

Once they were at the treasury door, Decimus kicked it open, gesturing with his gun for her to go and reap the spoils. "There... Enjoy." The amount of gold inside was insane. Mountains of sparkiling coins and gems, which piled to the ceiling. A greedy one, the prince was. He prepared to leave her to her own devices, making a turn for the dungeon as he continued to grip his side.

Among everything. Among the gore and death. Another scent hit her. Not the blood of an enemy or a mark. Not even her own blood.

The blood of an ally. It smelled different. Without a word, Kurenai trailed behind him. Staring at him. And soon, soft, deep whispers, slowly echoed throughout the halls. Originating from around her. Greed be damned. She kept staring at Decimus, who kicked open a door. She always took what she wanted.

How would tonight be any different? She was a murderer, a cut throat. The only way she could live was by taking what she wanted, being stronger and ending others. The thought alone sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

With a soft grin spreading across her face, she charged forward. Bracing her arms around his waist to tackle him inside within the blink of an eye. Metal armour clunking loudly if she collided with this Komiddy.

If everything went according to plan, she'd straddle him, pushing him down against the pile of gold coins she had pushed him in, with one hand to his shoulder and colossal strength. A bloodthirsty and ravenous grin on her face.

Decimus barely had time to react before he was suddenly slammed into, Kurenai effectively tackling him into a pile of gold, which exploded and sent coins flying in every direction. This didn't help his wound very much, which throbbed painfully as he regained his barings. Ripping off his mask, he tossed it to one side before removing his hat, his black hair messy and sticking up in every direction.

He glared up at her as she sat on his waist, holding him down with a grip that didn't quite feel as if she'd let him up anytime soon. Squirming slightly underneath her, he gritted his teeth. "What the Hell is the matter with you!?" He shouted up at her, already boiling from his wound, which just annoyed him more than anything else. Now she was sitting on him, planning to do gods know what?

"Get off of me so I can get out of this damned castle and go home!" He knew very well that orders such as these weren't going to do anything. However, he paused and calmed slightly when he noticed her expression. This... Wasn't the same psychotic persona he was used to. Her eyes told a different story. "Alright... What do you want from me, hag?" He growled. Insults might've not been the best idea in this scenario, but for all he knew, she was going to slit his throat regardless.

Kurenai's grin only widened as he shouted. And as he expected, she didn't even budge. The hand that pinned him down against the gold was unrelenting. And a soft, purring whisper came from her as she leaned in, next to him. "Don't be mistaken," she murmured softly, breathing in his ear. "I don't care it's you or the corpses of one of those guards."

With those words, one of her hands tried find a crack in his robes. And if possible, hiking the cloth upwards. The blood stained metal guantlet by no means streaking red everywhere. "But the display I put on earlier.. Well," she chuckled softly. "Let's just say it made me very enthusiastic." With those words, the hand that had been hiking up his top slowly caressed it's way down, to the hem of his pants, aiming to quite literally rip the fabric open.

Decimus watched as she lifted his diamond-checkered, colorful shirt, then trailed her hand down to his loins. He blinked, looking back up at her face in visible confusion. Then she went on about her enthusiasm... So... She was enthusiastic, and here she was, reaching for his crotch. Only one thought was running through his mind at this point. Well, one, excluding the other thought that he pushed to the back of his mind. Did she just insinuate that she would screw a dead body?

... Are you fucking kidding me?

"I think the word you're looking for is, horny." He told her, having to stifle a chuckle. This was probably the weirdest woman he had ever met. Killing a boatload of people, then wanting to screw no more than five minutes later? Well... People did have a saying. The crazy ones are best in bed, or something like that. Well, there was no bed in sight, but perhaps he could test that saying to see if it was true.

"Don't really care," Kurenai breathed inis his ear, before biting down on his earlobe, aiming toto draw a trickle of blood. "But you're not entirely opposed to it.. That makes it easier," she crooned, pressing a hauntingly tender kiss on his cheek. "I'd have hated to rape a pretty boy like you.. Maybe."

Kurenai pushed herself up again, loosening the straps of her intricate armour and tossing it aside, in the gold, feverishly. Almost tearing her own black robes off. And soon, she straddled Decimus once again. Bar her breeches and a girdle around her leg with some throwing knives, she was naked. Her body was pale. Yet, contrary to what some may believe from her career choice, she was completely free of any blemishes or marks. And despite her age, she looked like she was still well in her twenties. It even felt like she was.

As soon as she was undressed enough herself, she hungrily went to do the same to Decimus. She didn't care for his robes, or clothing. The man, right now, had one thing she was interested in. Kurenai flicked out one of the knifes, aiming to slice his trousers at the crotch swiftly. "I hope you're ready, big boy," she growled under her breath, busy little fingers working to tear away whatever her knife didn't cover. And soon, she had a solid grip on his shaft, glancing at him before she pushed her breeches aside slightly. With some jerking motions from her hand, Kurenai pressed her hips forward to slip him inside. Not giving a damn whether he was ready, both physically and mentally. She just needed toto fuck. Right now.

He winced ever-so-slightly as she bit him, watching patiently and delightfully as she stripped herself bare. He noticably licked his lips in arousal, arms splayed out across the gold he laid in. Not the most comfortable of places to lay, but everything happening before him made him completely forget. "Well... You've definitely been taking care of your body. You don't look a day over 22." He murmured, boldly running his fingers up her sides, his hands cupping her breasts.

He took everything in. If she was going to be this rough with him, he'd place his hands wherever he felt. The last thing he was going to be was a victim. He noticably flinched fearfully as the blade sliced the fabric just inches away from the obvious, rock-hard bulge in his pants. Sighing in relaxation as she placed the tool to the side, he grunted and bared his teeth at her rough grip. However, once he was inside, his discomfort quickly faded. Shuddering with pleasure, he groaned lowly.

She was tight. In fact, he fit like a glove. He didn't know what direction this bloody evening had taken, but he wasn't complaining. If the satisfaction of his target being dead wasn't reward in itself, this definitely was. It was a nice favor for all the headaches she'd been giving him. "You know... This is far from rape. Are you sure you're as old as they say? Damn..."

She didn't care for his compliments, she couldn't care for his feelings or what he saw this as. A reward, a favour, just a random itch being taken care off. It didn't matter to her whether he considered himself a victim, extremely lucky, or both of the aforementioned. The fingers running over her body and the groping did add to the pleasure. Which was a good thing.

She gave her hips a few experimental rolls, letting out the ghost of a moan, before she reached down to grasp his shirt by his chest. Clenching a, fest with the fabric as she started to gyrate her hips ontop of his. A soft panting started as she did. Yet those bloodthirsty, red eyes kept on his face constantly.

"Possibly even older than the stories," she crooned softly, letting out a ragged chuckle. "Do you.. mnnhn.. Have a thing for older women, then?"

He felt his own chest heave at her hip movements, letting out a pleasured sigh as his head dropped, his eyes trained on the ceiling. "Well... Never was a big turn on for me... I have age limits. I'm... Really questioning that right now, though." He gritted his teeth, suppressing a moan he felt rising in his throat as she gyrated her hips. He laced his hands on her thighs, moving them up and down for a moment before moving them around to the flesh of her bottom, squeezing rather roughly.

Decimus was the type of man that perferred the role of top. He enjoyed the sense of power and control, and while he didn't mind taking bottom, it got very hard not to flip the woman over and go at his own pace. Especially now. Kurenai seemed to be taking her time here, and while it was torturous and annoying, he allowed it. Well... It didn't matter if he allowed it or not, as she had him pinned down quite hard. He reached towards his hip, drawing a pepperbox and pointing it towards the treasury door. There was no telling when a stray guard would pass by, although it seemed like they were alone. For now.

With his other hand, he circled around from her ass, to her crotch, where he began teasing her clit with a single finger. Moving in quick circular motions, he kept an eye out on the door. There was no telling how long their lonesomeness would last. Especially considering that things were bound to get... Loud, for lack of a better word.

Kurenai could only huff in response. She didn't really hold any standards for her partners. Because it was very rare for her to indulge. And if she did, it wasn't uncommon for them to be killed when she was done. Disposable luxury, albeit in the heat of the moment.

But not Decimus. He was different to the partners she had before. He was as likely to kill her as she was him. The added threat and risk only added to her arousal, causing her to pin Decimus down harder, looking down on him with a sickening grin. Her hips picked up the pace and soon she was riding him fast and hard, moaning, grunting and panting loudly as she did. Said was accompanied by the slapping of flesh upon flesh and the jingling of coins beneath them. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and a sheen of sweat slowly formed on her body.

A glance sidewards as she saw him draw the firearm, movements faltering slightly. But then she realized she, had.no chance at all like this. And just proceeded on. It seemed he was intent on killing anyone coming in before they could react. As the finger reached the sensitive nub, she threw her head back and released a keening moan, her jolting movements telltale of her steadily approaching orgasm.

Decimus' chest heaved as she roughly bounced up and down against him, almost unable to keep focus on the door with everything that was happening at that exact moment. Especially with the view right in front of him adding to his pleasure. As she moaned and jolted, he just continued to furthur her pleasure in any way he could, continuing to stimulate the sensitive nub before him, as well as moving the same hand up to quite roughly massage a breast. She clearly liked her sex rough.

Still, as he rested underneath her, there was not much else he could do. She was deceptively strong, and held him down hard enough to ensure minimal movement. He was truly at her whim right now. She was the driver. She controlled both of their pleasure. Normally, he'd hate this. He'd be swearing up a storm. But this was different. With every hard thrust his throbbing member went inside her, he felt waves of pure ecstasy pass over him, from his crotch, to his fingertips and toes. It was heavenly.

He couldn't even gather himself enough to form words. His mind reeled with lust and delight. Quite a bit, he caught himself, jaws agape. If he had the mindset to think properly, he'd be wondering if he could outlast her. It'd be an achievement, with how hellbent she seemed on making him explode. But then that just led to the question of the day... Where would that leave them when the pleasure faded? Knowing her, she'd put a knife in his chest. Well... A bullet in hers, if that was the case.