The Frame Game [Shining Edge]

[Paladienne]

Masiel leafed through the papers that had been sent to her, studying the writing upon the pages with a critical eye. She sat at a small round table in the back room of a tavern that was owned and operated by her guild, alone save for the small plate of food and the mug of ale within reach. She could hear the boisterous noise coming from the tavern's common room, the shouting and screaming and cheering and booing, and the loudness of it made her smile. Those sounds told her more than business reports. People were enjoying themselves and through their enjoyment, funding her Nightshades. Her lips curled slightly. People were ignorant sheep, but even sheep still had sharp hooves.

She set each paper aside as she read them. They were job requests, sent by her various agents. Many she delegated out to other operatives, selecting the teams that would be best suited for the job outlined. These requests she would send back with a trusted messenger, who would collect the pay and make sure that each and every coin was there, and then the job would commence. Masiel generally kept the money contained within the area from which the request had come from, to maintain the buildings and holdings of the Nightshades, to oil the hands and mouths that brought them information, and to pay her operatives. She had her agents that dealt with the money and gave her honest accounting for it all, so she knew where every coin was going and for what.

She paused on one sheet of paper, a request for an assassination. It wasn't unusual. Requests for assassination came in regularly. Typically, they were minor things - not that assassination was ever minor - and her subordinates were quite skilled at taking out whoever was supposed to be taken out, and keeping it contained so that suspicion never came back upon them or the guild. But this one... this assassination wasn't minor. This assassination was rather major. A lord of a little town wanted a rival for power removed, and he was willing to pay an unnecessary amount of money to get the job done. It looked to be quite a delicate operation, one that required an equal amount of silent skill and brute force.

She continued to study the words written there, idly nibbling on the biscuit she had picked up from the plate. This was a job she could do. A job she and her partner could do. Besides, from the way the letter was worded, it seemed as if a more experienced hand was needed. She trusted her operatives, but sometimes their inexperience was their undoing. Not that they didn't solve their own problems when they arose, but this situation was one where problems, if they arose, wouldn't be solved easily. Therefore, sending someone who could complete the job without causing problems would be ideal.

Going herself would be ideal.

She looked up as the door to the back room opened, and the doorway was filled with a giant shadow. She smiled, her head cocking to one side. She offered the parchment to the shadow, her eyes sparking.

"What do you think about this? Would you like to accept it?"

[Shining Edge]

That large shadow turned upon entering the dimly lit room, softly closing the door behind it and securing the bolt from the inside, barring entrance to any others. Then it turned, and stepped into the light.

Brogan was without his cloak and sword at the moment, as well as without his layered armor, dressed to blend in with the public while they were in a safe place. In one hand, he held a mug not unlike Masiel's, full to the brim with fine honey mead rather than ale. As he stepped into the light, his smaller companion would be able to see the natural patterns of frost crawling over the container, as the half giant worked his magic simply to cool his drink.

"Hmm. What is it you, have, there?" He took a long drink from his chilled mug, and stepped toward her and the table. When he was close enough, he plucked the parchment from her grasp with two large fingers, and moved to sit across from her. He set his mug down carefully, and, as he read, reached a hand toward her own mug to tap one finger against its side, similarly frosting her drink as he had his own.

Ale was at its finest when it was cold, after all, just like most drinks, the large man had discovered.

"Mmm...that is a lot of zeroes, even for a job like this." Brogan scanned the page with glacial eyes, silent for a moment as he considered the job. He was familiar with the locale the contract was placed in, though the names involved didn't ring any bells. Perhaps leadership had recently changed hands in this particular county, and some upstart Lord was nervous about being able to keep hands on his holdings.

This shouldn't be anything like a problem, though. It would only require careful planning and flawless enactment of said plans, which, for this particular pair, was never any issue. Brogan lay the page flat on the table to slide it back toward Masiel.

He watched her as he lifted his mug, and took a long drink, and set it down with a breath. "It's a big job. A lot of risk. Possibly a lot of fighting involved, if it gets bungled up. That's pirate territory, too, so you know security is probably very tight with them around. We could end up imprisoned, or dead."

He was silent for a moment after that, as he watched her expression. Then he smiled, his lips pulling away to show bright teeth.

"So when do we leave?"

[Paladienne]

She stared at her now frozen mug of ale with a raised eyebrow. That expression was then turned on Brogan, her lips a thin line. While she appreciated the thought - and she didn't exactly enjoy warm ale, but it was her fault for not drinking it while it had been cold, so she had simply decided to deal with it - she certainly thought it was brazen of him to perform the action without consulting her first.

She tapped her fingers on the table, her only sign of irritation with him. But even then, that didn't last long.

"We could end up imprisoned or dead, yes." Masiel said. "But that's life. Unless you end up as a vampire or some kind of undead, and maybe even then, we all end up in the ground sooner or later."

She reached for her mug and took a long draught, licking her lips once she put the drink down to catch the last drops lingering on her flesh. She reached for the parchment and scanned the words again.

"We'll have to make careful preparations. Go and check out everything first, and do some scouting. This is going to be one of those long and slow affairs, just to make sure everything goes just right. A contingency plan for the contingency plan." Masiel lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "We'll send the acceptance and make it known that this one will be done on our time, not theirs. You and I will head there now, and start setting up our plans. As soon as we get confirmation of the funds, then we'll begin."

Masiel retrieved a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped a quill in ink, quickly writing a message upon it. Then, folding it and sealing it, she rose from her seat and headed toward the door, opening it and giving a sharp whistle. A young girl, no more than eleven or twelve, hurried down the hall, a huge smile on her cherubic face. Masiel smiled at the girl, handed her the then pressed a few coins into those small hands.

"Take these. Keep two for yourself. You know where the rest are to go to, along with this parchment. And this time, Keelah, don't leave until he gives you a treat. And if he doesn't, let me know, and I'll have a chat with him."

The girl, Keelah, beamed and nodded, grinning widely and revealing four missing teeth. Masiel cupped the girl's cheek with a loving gesture, then sent the girl on her way.

When she turned back to Brogan, her face was once more an emotionless icy mask. She met his gaze and her lips twitched with a small smile. "Let's get started."

[Shining Edge]

The half giant could only offer a smirk as Masiel turned that raised brow and those thin lips toward him. Most, if not all others in their would sooner be caught dead than have her turn those eyes on them. But Brogan? He could only be amused. Besides, he knew she appreciated the gesture, and if she wouldn't have, he wouldn't have done it.

"Aye, true. Death becomes us all, even those of us that do His work for Him. Especially us, in the end, I suppose. But, nothing risked, nothing gained, especially not in this business." He watched her as she took a long pull from her mug, and tried not to allow his eyes to linger overly long on those graceful lips as she licked them clean. His gaze, save for that short instant that her tongue darted out, remained loyally on her eyes.

He listened to her speak, nodding in affirmation as she talked of plans, and contingencies for those plans, and contingencies for those contingencies. Most of the jobs the pair took seemed to start off the same: observe and recognize every angle, and anticipate every reaction the other parties may take in response to ones actions. Plan for success, as well as failure, and plan for a path from both. Take nothing for granted, and recognize that if something is too easy, it generally is.

Brogan learned that the hard way, once. As if remembering that moment, he reached his free hand up to his chest, and felt the defined scar over his heart.

He watched her as she wrote her response to the job contract, seeing the words of confirmation and acceptance flow in her graceful script across the page. When she finished, he observed as she summoned Keelah, and the big man greeted the tiny girl with an easy smile - he was used to seeing this one around, and he'd gotten used to the way Masiel doted on her and the other little ones.

When Keelah had gone, and Masiel turned to him again, Brogan returned her icy exoression with one of grim stoicism. He offered a curt nod, and moved to stand. He hunched just slightly, avoiding bumping his head on the hanging candle holder above the table.

"All right. I'll ready our gear for travel, and see to the horses. I'll be waiting by the stables in fifteen minutes." The tiniest of smiles curled just the corner of his lip, before he grabbed his mug, stepped away from the hanging light, and drained it of the rest of its contents.

He lowered it, and smirked to his partner. "This should be a fun, if nothing else."

[Paladienne]

Masiel smirked at his comment. Most of their missions had been 'fun', in some capacity or another. She remembered quite fondly times of absolute excitement - rushing through a city, trying to escape the guards; hiding in plain sight and waiting to see if anyone would notice them; the thrill of the hunt and the kill - as well as she remembered times of utter defeat. Each experience was a learning one and shaped her into what she was, and continued to do so, as if life was moulding her out of a piece of clay, styling a new facet to her as she continued to experience and grow.

When Brogan left to prepare for their journey, Masiel began her own preparations. She didn't know exactly what they would need for their mission, but she liked being prepared for every eventuality. Even the ones she hadn't thought of to begin with.

Into the satchels and pouches she kept on her person, she slipped powders and small liquid-filled vials. Into sheaths, she slipped knives. She found a garrote and slid that away. She belted a sword to her hip and slid a few stilettos into the sheaths on her wrists. She packed away in another pouch a two small purses of coins, for bribery and whatever other expenses they might incur, and ensured that the money wouldn't jingle when she moved, and thus give away that she had it on her person. When she was satisfied that she had prepared everything she possibly could without knowing what kind of situation she was about to walk into, she left her room and headed to the front of the establishment to leave orders. She had no doubt that her people would adhere to them; they always had, considering she was, in their eyes, the mouthpiece and enforcer of their unseen, unknown leader. They never had to know that she was that unseen, unknown leader.

Well.

Her and Brogan.

When she had settled everything she needed to settle, she headed out and met her partner at the stables, her eyes roaming over what he had done. She smiled appreciatively, and moved to take the reins of her horse from him. She stroked the animal's neck and nose, her eyes meeting Brogan's with an amused but icy glint to them. Then, in one swift movement, she had her foot in the stirrup and had swung up into the saddle.

"Shall we get going then?" She clicked her tongue to the horse and urged it into a quick trot. She didn't worry about leaving her partner behind. She knew he would catch up.

Besides, they still had a long way to go.

[Shining Edge]

Most of what Brogan had gotten together was regular travelling gear. Dry rations, a pair of canteens, rope, and some basic first aid supplies made up the bulk of what he'd settled in the saddlebags of Masiel's horse. His own contained three tent poles and a rolled sheet of canvas so that they could have shelter, in the event that they didn't make it far enough to reach an inn before they were fatigued from travel. Brogan highly doubted they would be stopping before reaching that point, but he figured it was best to be prepared.

Also strapped to his saddle were a number of weapons, for both Masiel and himself; on his person, he carried his large claymore, his signature weapon. His large beast of a stallion had a number of leather loops built into his saddle, and these loops had filled scabbards of many shapes shoved through them. He carried a short sword, a number of daggers, a pair of hand axes, and a spear. After all, an army needed to be properly outfitted. And Brogan, if nothing else, was just as good as any small army.

Lastly, he'd situated his armor on his person. When Masiel reached the stables, he was just finishing making sure all the buckles and straps were firmly in place. He looked up from his wrist after giving a firm tug to his leather vambraces, his gaze rising to meet hers. He untied the reins of Masiel's horse to hand them to her, and smiled in turn. He watched as her lithe form swung herself with ease up into the saddle, and nodded as she spoke.

"Aye. Go on, then, and I'll be right behind you. I'll be staying off the roads as I'm able, so as not to draw attention with blades enough to supply both sides of a war." He smirked as he climbed up onto his own horse, and not for the first time was glad he had been able to find a beast of an appropriate size for him. With a light tap of his boots, Brogan urged his horse forward after Masiel, travelling closely behind her for awhile until they were away from civilization. Afterward, he did as he mentioned, moving off of the road and travelling parallel to her, just barely within earshot and obscured by distance and the occasional obstacle the environment provided.

[Paladienne]

Masiel was used to riding alone through the countryside, staying to the roads and keeping her heavily-armed shadow unseen. It was something they had always done, and she couldn't remember when they'd started doing it, or how it had begun. Perhaps by unspoken consent, or perhaps by an incident she no longer remembered. And for her to forget something, it meant that she had either taken care of it so that it would no longer bother her or be a future menace to her and her organization, or it had been so inconsequential that she hadn't bothered to give it much more thought. Either way, it was and it would always be, and it wasn't like he couldn't hear her if she began to talk. Not that she did, not even to herself, for her speaking was an early warning that things might get nasty and his intervention might be required. Not that Masiel couldn't handle herself or take care of herself in nasty situations. It just made things easier when a living mountain appeared out of nowhere, armed to the teeth, and looking dumb and scary enough to use his teeth instead of those weapons.

That thought made Masiel's lips twitch in a small sardonic smile.

Brogan was anything but dumb. He was anything but what people assumed him to be. That had been her mistake as well, when she'd first met him. A half-giant who could barely string a few words together to make a coherent sentence? He would be easy enough to defeat. She'd been confident of that fact. Too confident, and that had almost been her demise. Seeing him fight, seeing what he could really do, and what he really was, made Masiel appreciate Brogan in a way no one else did. He wasn't really a mountain, slow and immovable, worn down inch by inch by weather and time; Brogan was an avalanche, carefully balanced upon a pebble's edge, ready to tumble down onto the unsuspecting with deadly brute force and merciless fury.

Her shoulders tightened in reflex to that thought. She bore a physical reminder of that force and fury, and though the wound had long since healed, she was still able to feel it as if it were fresh and new.

She pushed those thoughts aside before she became too tense to even remain in her saddle and needed to dismount to walk off the restless energy. She knew if she did that, Brogan would instantly be by her side, and damn the consequences.

So she turned her thoughts to the task ahead.

As assassinations went, it was a simple enough task. Get in, kill the mark, get out. But any further planning depended upon her actually being able to see what she was dealing with. Most towns and cities were the same - buildings of differing heights, different districts, all sorts of people - but where they differed was their layout and construction. While some towns and cities placed their buildings close together, others sprawled and had considerable space. Since this town was close enough to the sea to have issues with pirates, she assumed that these buildings would likely be closer to sprawling in the more wealthier district and more closely packed together near the docks and in the poorer district, where space was at a premium and it was easier to rebuild after an attack.

That kind of layout posed its own problems, but they were easily-solved problems. She also knew that there were problems she could only anticipate until she'd seen them, and there were problems that she'd never anticipate at all. She would have a plan, and a back up plan, and a back up plan for the back up plan.

Plus a proverbial shopping list of contingencies for the contingencies.

Checklists for checklists.

Masiel sighed and turned her gaze toward Brogan, picking him out easily even though any other eyes would skip right over him without realizing that a one-man army was riding so close at hand. They would ride for a few more hours, she decided, and then they would find a place to take a break and stretch their legs, and give the horses a momentary rest.

Then they would continue on, at least until dark. She didn't expect to reach their destination tonight, of course, but she would try, because the longer they were out and exposed, the more likely it would be they would run into trouble. And she really didn't want to run into trouble.

At least, trouble she didn't cause.

[Shining Edge]

And so they rode for several hours in that fashion, separated by distance yet never out of reach. Brogan's glacial eyes occasionally flicked towards the road to spot Masiel's form, both as a way to keep an eye on her in the infinitesimal chance something happened as well as to keep pace with her. Never once did he and his massive horse stray from the path parallel to her, remaining at the same distance their entire way. It wouldn't have mattered if he did, anyway, as he knew where they were going and also that she was more than simply adept at taking care of herself.

It had just always been that way, and Brogan was fine with that. It had been his idea, long ago. Just another tactic, another layer of deception that would always be in place. If one of them were spotted, or even attacked, it would be fine. Either one of them was a force to be reckoned with all on their own - she, a storm of lethality, and him a great crashing mountain. Neither of them truly *needed* the other in most cases....but in those rare few, that distinct advantage of surprise, of having backup nearby at all times, could - and would, he knew - always turn the tide in their favor.

Not to mention, of course, that if they did run into trouble, it was hardly ever any challenge with both of them. Their opponents had to have some sporting chance, after all, or the travelling pair might get bored. Because together....together they were truly unstoppable.

The large man also kept an eye on the sky above and the shadows below, keeping time with the changes in the light and the silhouettes upon the ground as they crawled over the earth. A couple hours had passed since they'd departed, and several miles at their horses' canter, and soon now it would be time to stop to rest. The shadows were growing long, anyway, and Brogan wouldn't have been surprised if 'let's rest,' turned into, 'let's make camp.' They couldn't run the horses forever, after all, especially not the horse carrying near five-hundred pounds of half-giant and steel.

He gave it another hour, then, before he coaxed his beast back toward the road. A few minutes later, his horse matched hers stride for stride, and he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "It's about time to rest the horses, don't you think? We may yet cover a few more miles before nightfall, but I seriously doubt we'll arrive where we're wanting to before we have to break for camp, unless we push them. Either way, they'll need a rest."

[Paladienne]

Masi saw him emerging from the trees and slowed her pace to match his. Had there been danger, he wouldn't have been so obvious about breaking cover and approaching her, so Masi assumed that they had been traveling for long enough. She was glad for Brogan's presence; if he hadn't been there, she might have traveled until it was too dark to see, just to make up time and have less distance to travel come morning. But she knew the price of such a pace all too well, and where they were going, they didn't have the luxury of having mounts stabled and well-cared for waiting just for them. These two horses would have to last them there and back again, and if they ruined them, then it might cost their lives. An assassin's survival not only hinged on their own skills, but on the speed and swiftness of their mode of escape. In this case, for her and Brogan, it was the two powerful animals loyally plodding along without too much of a complaint.

She nodded, giving the small nonverbal confirmation that she'd heard his words and agreed with him. "When have we ever arrived exactly when we want to? I can count on one hand all the times that's happened and never run out of fingers."

Masiel looked up at the half-giant with a quirk of her lips. He knew of the events she spoke of, and that experience had taught them a great many lessons. Such as there was no such thing as arriving too early or too late. An assassin arrived exactly when they meant to, because they were the masters of time. For the entire hunt, they controlled the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until they cornered their target and ended that life. An assassination wasn't something that could be done quickly, if it was to be done right.

The half-elf focused her gaze on the stretch of road ahead, easing her mount into a slow walk, plodding along with an easy gait. As they covered a few more miles, for they had plenty of light to do so, she looked for a suitable campsite. When she found one, she veered her horse toward the break in the trees that lined the far side of the road and entered the darkening forest. Masi dismounted and took hold of her horse's bridle, leading the animal through the forest and giving it the first taste of rest without her on its back. When she reached the clearing, she took the reins of her mount and tied them to a low branch in such a way that the animal could graze among the grasses that grew in the clearing and - if there was danger - it could escape with just a hard tug. Then she removed her horse's saddle and took the time to groom the mare before the dying light forced her to create some.

Masi built up a fire then, careful to keep the flames low and smokeless so as not to give away their position, and settled in front of it. She began to root around in her pack, pulling out a small wrapped sachet from one inner pocket. She unwrapped it and began to eat the small meal contained within, chewing slowly. Her eyes followed Brogan as he moved around the camp in the dying light, watching the big man as he went through his own nighttime rituals before he settled down.

"We'll get an early start tomorrow, I think." Masiel said after a moment. "We'll travel until the sun is at its zenith, and then we'll take a midday break. At that point, we'll be able to see how much longer it will take us to get there. If we can stretch the travel out by another day, then we'll do so. What do you think?"

[Shining Edge]

Brogan flicked his gaze toward her, watching her with those frozen eyes for a moment before his lips curled in unison with hers. It was true, what she said. The job, the events within the job, were as a force in and of itself. The assassin was both the blade and the hand wielding it, whereas the job was the world the assassin lived within. Only a true master could understand truly the extent of what went into that job...every second of time was to be used to it's fullest, planned out to the tenth degree.

And in essence, their job hadn't even started yet. The job couldn't truly start until they were there and they were seeing what it was that could hinder or expedite, what the environment and the people there were like, what they did and how what they did would affect any or all plans that were made. Things would have to be planned for, around, or with those things in mind in some other fashion. There was very little room for error, but these two didn't make errors.

That was why they were who they were, after all. They made no errors, and so left only marginal amount of room for them, so that, in the end, thinking on the fly rarely had to be a thing. And that...well, that was when things got interesting. Those times that the job went to complete hell and called for a...heavier hand in things...when Masiel and Brogan could really cut loose...they were the rarest of the rare times, and hell and a half to clean up, but the big man had to admit that the rapid change in pace could, at times, be refreshing.

It wasn't as if Brogan enjoyed it when plans went awry. He just liked to be kept on his toes on occasion.

When at least they stopped and dismounted, Brogan went straight into the care of his mount. He first tied the horse in a similar fashion to how Masiel had her own, then removed the heavy equipment he'd brought along with them, setting the wrapped killing implements gently on the ground to prevent any unnecessary clatter, and then removing the heavy saddle from the sturdy horse's back. He went straight into brushing the horse's coat, taking great care to remove any dust from the road that might cause abrasions later beneath the rubbing of the tack again tomorrow. Once that was done, he removed the bedrolls from his equipment and spread one out, next to the fire that Masiel had built. The other, he dropped on the ground by her hip to place where she wished.

When at last he sat on his bedroll, the light of day had finally given way to the black of night. Above, the stars twinkled just so, visible within the gap in the trees overhead. Brogan drug his pack closer to him, pulling a canteen from within along with his own wrapped meal. First, though, he popped the lid off of the steel canteen, and took a heavy draught of the mead he'd brought along for the ride - cooled, of course, at his first touch. After a couple swallows, he held the container out to her to take or leave as she saw fit.

"Just before the crack of dawn as usual, right? That works for me. I think we should try and reach our destination at dusk, if possible, and watch how things wind down. Get an idea of how their security works, how they rotate, while there's light to see by. And then, we spend the night getting the lay of the town. Rest during the day, and enact whatever plans we make the following evening."

[Paladienne]

Masiel gripped her bedroll and slung it out on the other side of the fire, opposite Brogan, and shifted to settle onto it. She brushed off bits of earth and debris and settled down on her side, her head propped up by a fist. She stared into the flames as her partner situated himself on his bedroll, and her eyes flicked toward him when he offered her the canteen. Her lips curled slightly and she pushed herself upright to take the offered object, a soft chuckle escaping her at the chilly feel of the metal. Of course Brogan would purposefully cool a well-traveled drink. That was one of the advantages traveling with a frost giant, Masiel mused - you could find a cool drink anywhere in the land, because all you'd have to do was hand him the canteen, glass, flask, or skin and allow him to do what he did naturally. She saluted him with the canteen before she put it to her lips and swallowed the mead, taking her time in savoring the alcohol before she returned it to him.

"Just before dawn," Masiel agreed, "but not so early that we're going to be tripping over each other because we can't see. And if we can't see, the horses can't see, and I'm not going to risk them."

She didn't bother to verbally respond to, or agree with, Brogan's other assessment. He knew her too well to expect such an answer when she'd already thought of it herself. She wouldn't come out and call him on the obvious, because there were times she needed to hear it said, like this one. So long as they were on the same page, then the two would have the same plan with only minor discrepancies. The two had worked together for too long to not think along the same lines and act in similar manners in similar situations. Masiel preferred working with Brogan among anyone else in her organization simply because of that reason.

And because no one picked a fight with someone twice their size if they were sane.

That thought made her snort. "We won't travel too quickly, just in case they might have guards walking the roads. We don't want to announce our presence before we're ready to. We're already going to be out of place, considering we don't exactly look like merchants, nor do we look like anything but the shady type of mercenary that frequents the backwater villages in search of jobs. If we can see the town by dusk, then we'll wait until dawn the next morning to see how the guards, if there are any, rotate. And all the other things that usually go along with a town."

She pulled her pack to her then and rummaged through it until she found a wrapped packet of food and a flask of her own. She opened it, revealing nuts, cheese, jerky, and hard trail crackers. Not the best of meals, or her favorite, but suffice for quick energy and it meant that she wouldn't have to hunt or forage for food. She settled the bundle in her lap after she'd crossed her legs, and set the flask against her hip, balancing the beaten steel on its edge against her.

"We'll have to see what we can do about lodgings. I'd prefer to stay in a place that wouldn't cause too much undue attention." Masiel said as she ripped a piece of cheese off the bigger chunk and placed it on a cracker. "However, if we pass through and things seem too... insecure... then we'll simply set up a camp outside the town. Something we can set up a perimeter to and keep ourselves safe from any trouble."

She popped her odd sandwich into her mouth and chewed on the cheese and cracker for a moment, working it with her teeth while she stared into the fire. Her eyes flicked from the flames to her partner, a small smile on her face. Then she swallowed and said, "This job is going to take an infinite amount of patience, and we're going to have to take it slow. The territory is unknown to us. Should I remind you what happened the last time we went into something unknown and moved before we were ready?"