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Shifting Shadows [P, Cordelia]
Topic Started: Wed Jul 5, 2017 5:34 am (192 Views)
Keter
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He had been there in the beginning, one of the first names marked as Zakona. He was one of the legendary ones, a Wine River Pariah, The Shadowboxer. Unarmed but deadly, at odds with the other outcasts, one who remained behind. He was not afraid of the dark nor the creatures who lurked within, for the greatest of those beasts conceded that they would not waste the time to tear him apart. Where better was there a place for him to hone his skills than the dark, where enemies abounded? Sheriffs, bounty hunters, and criminals alike saw his likeness on the posters and got that drool of greed coming from the corner of their mouths, and the longer he remained among the swamps, the higher the number got.

Who needed weapons? He was the weapon. Not since the nights after first setting foot in this light-forbidden land had he needed to renew his contract with the Shade who bound its power to Chaon through his body, and with its help he stayed a step ahead of any lightbringers who sought to bring him down. After Sheriff Rijinders, what light was there left to prove a challenge? It was a team effort, driven by a survival madness, but it had all the same been Keter's bare hand that separated the sheriff's head from his shoulders.

Now? Things were turning. Norwood who was at war with Balefire was pulling back, tightening their defenses in light of new internal troubles, but in their stead the Ivory League was bearing hidden fangs. Forska was the head of the rebellion, with people rising up against terrible working conditions with provided weapons and beasts, finally giving them a level playing field. To it, Keter was reminded of an age-old plight of the Black Monkey's many lives, but more than that, it was a chance to finally dance outside of the shadows. The rebellion would need strong people to help against the mercenaries that were being imported, and in a land of such incredible darkness, the Shadow Boxer could go from criminal to hero of the people.

At first, as one might expect, things were a bit rocky. People had heard not only what had happened upon the Wine River, but also Nine Angels, mixed stories from civilian and businessmen, propaganda and legend mixed together, neither clear. All the same, as he caught them off-guard and their crossbows were trained at him, he simply stood with his hat in hand and his arms raised to show no ill-intent.

"If you're going to shoot me, then at least let me speak my piece, first." He said, his Nalaian accent still weighing on his Imythessian common words, but carrying through clear enough, "I was thrown before the cart by the same sort of people who have been using you as little more than slaves. I had come to Balefire to do a job, and they branded me Zakona, they trapped me and the other Wine River Pariahs to divert attention away from the true evil they were committing. Since Nine Angels, I have been among the swamps, beating only the cruel, and the corrupt. The sheriffs who care little if at all for the people, and the criminals who took from those weaker than themselves. I am here to help, to lend to you my strength and my skills, and against the mercenaries that you know are coming, you will need every edge you can get."
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♥Cordelia Brooks
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In the outskirts of Balefire, a group of rebels were gathering arms to fight against their government. A line of people stood in front of Cordelia as she passed out weapons—cross bows, daggers, throwing knives. Politics concerned her only so far as her ability to exist in public without the threat of death. Balefire had made it impossible for her to live in her old home, or to live anywhere in the continent of Imythess. Her face decorated wanted posters across the nation, with steep rewards offered for her head.

Dangerous vampire! Wanted dead or alive!

In another life, she might have deserved the label zakona. She’d heard of what she’d done. Murdered, burglarized, destroyed. She reserved an ounce of mercy in her dead heart for loved ones—the rare friends, the husband, the son, the daughter. And even them—even those people most precious to her—were not totally free from her wrath. She was a creature of terror who hunted the streets for innocent blood.

But that was in another life.

She was still a vampire. Still cruel. Still lacking in heart. But not mindless. Not bloodthirsty. Not without pity, or mercy, or some softness inside her that resisted the malignity of her crooked soul. Balefire’s sheriff, and the lawmen across Imythess, believed otherwise, and would not even give her a chance to defend herself. Kill on sight.

Forsake had lead the rebellion. Now others were joining in. Cordelia didn’t align herself with the Ivory League, or with any political entity, but she wanted these people to remember who had helped them. When they made the law, they could free her. Across the way, a commotion stirred as the workers she had just given weapons turned on someone who spoke peaceably.

“Anyone who is zakona is an asset to this mission,” said Cordelia. “Let him help.” She hopped off the cart of weapons she was standing on, and walked through the crowd to him. She was taller, and so she looked down with steely eyes.

“I am zakona,” she said. “Marked for crimes I do not remember committing, crimes that I wouldn’t commit in this life. But they won’t hear a defense. Balefire has wronged us both. How do you intend to help us?”
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Keter
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She looked somewhat familiar. From the posters around, not quite as wanted, but still noteworthy enough, and apparently am amnesiac. Yet another zakona of circumstances now beyond her control, essentially a victim of somebody else's crimes. If only The Black Monkey could be so lucky as to forget the past, but instead he was haunted by all of it.

Cruel vampiress. At least once before, it seems. Murmur whispered in the Black Monkey's mind.

Can you check the perimeter? Keter inquired, never feeling quite safe without proper checking.

Of course I can. The Shade chuckled before the shadow broke from the monkey in the purple light of the torches, darting off into the darkness.

"Not all who are zakona will look to help the under. . . bandas? The oppressed. Some will see this as a chance to make deals with Balefire to clean their slates and lose their status." Keter said, lowering his arms. Some terms were still elusive to him in common, but he was getting there. No life of his had ever been on the side of conflict with the upper-hand, but such was the influence of Surya on all Black Monkeys, "I'm a master of stealth and battle, but I also have a good portion of Gloomwood marked as one who dances in the shadows, and the Shade I carry with me has history with Balefire for better or worse.

"I come intent on breaking the forces of the oppressors and leveling the playing field beyond the weapons provided, maybe turning certain conflicts entirely, but I'm nothing if not flexible. I can be a fighter, a scout, a smuggler, an assassin, a messenger, or pretty much anything else, and with my reputation as Keter Laluan, the Shadowboxer of the Wine River Pariahs, heroes to the downtrodden of Nine Angels, I can even recruit.

"If you're the one in charge here, then direct me as you see fit. You are. . ."
He paused, trying to think. The name was on the tip of his tongue, but he barely paid attention to the wanted posters, "What is your name, again?"

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♥Cordelia Brooks
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Some will see this as a chance to make deals with Balefire to clean their slates and lose their status.

“The motivations of others are not my concern,” said Cordelia. She shrugged. Her own motivations were not as pure as they could have been. Keter’s words may very well have applied to her, but she did not care whether this was a judgment of her character or not. If she was still as selfish and self-serving as she had once been, then so be it—at least she no longer bathed in blood or relished the misery of unsuspecting victims.

He listed his credentials. He was as qualified as she was. With nothing more than a curt nod, she welcomed him to their venture.

“Cordelia,” she said. For a moment she debated a last name—Brooks? Deathstorm?—then decided against it. Each family name felt false, gave the false impression that she belonged somewhere. It was better to abandon that.

“I’m only in charge of weapon distribution,” she said. “I managed to smuggle in that cart, over there.” She gestured with her chin toward the cart she had been standing on when Keter entered. “But there’s a woman here, Helle, who is leading the rebellion. Covered in tattoos. She’s planning an attack set for tomorrow, as we speak. Are you up to that?”
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Keter
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"The motivations of everybody should be a concern, lets you spot traitors before they make a move, Cordelia." Keter noted with no loss of an internal sense of irony. He was at odds with most of the other Wine River Pariahs, but they were little more than impatient fools and so their opinions meant little to him. For these people, he would provide genuine aid, but they were driven by a greater sense of justice than blind vengeance.

There was more to be lost here, more to be gained. If the Balefirians could put more effort into crushing the syndicalists, then any hopes of negotiations might be lost. Fortunately it caught them unsteady, they needed mercenaries to bolster their numbers whereas the common person might need nothing more than a good spot of training, and with their numbers overwhelm and endure. To reduce casualties and fatalities was ideal.

"I'll be happy to assist in the attack." Keter said with a nod and a slight tip of his flatbrim hat. From the darkness, Murrum returned, and Keter resumed, ready to follow what was so far the closest thing he had met to a leader to the more purest of leaders, "Lead the way."

Anything? Keter inquired of the Shade.

No, not yet.The Shade replied disinterestedly. It was not the sort to lie to Keter, so there was no reason to doubt it.

Not rushing. What a delicate situation after that night. Keter mused, considering how quickly Balefire had been rushing recent events.
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♥Cordelia Brooks
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Cordelia waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll let Helle worry about traitors,” she said. If a different opportunity to clear her name arose, she would take it. She was beholden to no one here, and not to the League, either. The only person she could worry about in this life was her own self—and if she found a better way to free herself of the zakona shackle, she would take it.

“This way.”

She turned from Keter and began to walk to a different section of the warehouse. There was a map of Balefire tacked to a wall, which included its streets and buildings. The map was marked with different colored string, though the meaning of each color was not immediately obvious.

“We’re going to set off a bomb, right here,” said Cordelia, placing her finger on the map. It was in a wealthy district, where many upper-class citizens lived. “A couple others have worked on the arcanotech and they say it’s ready to go. Tomorrow it will be planted and then others are meant to attack here, and here.” She pointed to other places on the map.
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Keter
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"Oh, fantastic. Nothing sends a message quite like destroying a bunch of wealthy peoples' homes." Keter said as he took a look at the map. He had been running around the streets of Balefire for a while right under the noses of the sheriffs, trying to learn of all the zakona-friendly places, and even those that were not.

That dog had to be a rarity among the societal leaders, incredible power and a sharp mind, but those who were like him would be nowhere near their homes in such a time of sedition. Either for better or worse, it would probably mean a higher general intelligence for the top of local society. It would definitely send a message of anger, but the most foolish would be the ones lost, those who felt safe, and possibly even those who would be most likely to side with the underdogs given a chance, if nothing else than for the ease of it all.

They hid behind their private security one way or another, fearing attack but too stubborn to leave. The strategists were elsewhere, hidden bunkers and safe houses where they could simply wait out the storm, and the particularly pragmatic would be holed up in their businesses where panic rooms were ready. Safes were set up, hidden away with their most prized of things. Security would be increased further.

"Yes, yes. This plan will definitely make them angrier." Keter said after his moment of thought, now sure of what he was thinking, "Anger and fear, a darkened opinion of the oppressed, and no expenses spared for petty revenge. They might even start dealing with the Ethereal to find ways to shut this all down as quickly as possible. If that's the plan, then this is all going to contribute wonderfully, and you won't need me."
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