"Jeeze, these blades need to be sharpened," Emory muttered to herself in her native elven tongue as she sat on a thick branch, her long, toned legs danglingly loosely beneath her. She was leaning against her shelter in the Lorange Forest, just south of La Ciudad. It was several hours away to get from her home in the forest to the mountain top city, but with Emory's power of enhanced speed, the time for her to get there would be cut in half. Currently the sun was rising over the tree tops, her cue that the day was now to begin. This was the day, the journey back to the city of criminals, the day she would start her search of the infamous gang leader Lash. In front of her were Emory's two main weapons laying on her lap: her trailing-point knife and her needle-point blade. These two weapons had witnessed more blood shed than most eyes in this forest have ever seen. She ran her fingers gently along the length of the blades in a very peaceful manner. She ran through her thoughts wondering what enchants would be most useful to cast on these weapons for this particular kill.... increased strength of the blade... accurate precision... the challenge was she didn't know what race Lash was.... he could be anything, no one knew.

"Emory!" a friend called out from a branch above, for there were several others shelters built that shared the same tree she was in. His name was Korren, another orphan elf that was trained in the same assassin camp she was trained in. He shared the same tribal marks on his face, two symmetrical brown streaks that went from their foreheads down to their cheeks. He swung from his branch, landing gracefully a few feet away from her. "Getting ready for the big bounty, hm?" he asked, his head tilting in interest as he watched her gaze at her blades.

"Of course, you know I am always prepared," she smiled, looking up at her friend that had been there for her since she was just a child. "I'm still surprised you aren't going after this one... the money is... incredible," she added, eyebrows perking up in excitement, already imaging what all she would do with the gold if she were to capture Lash and kill him.

"And I'm surprised you are going for him... you know the danger that comes with his name, you can barely say it in La Ciudad without having some Brute get rough with ya," Korren spoke somberly, saddened that Emory might not know what she was walking into. Lash and his gang, the Bloody Swords, had already killed thousands of people within just the past months. He was a protected man with a countless number of men willing to give their life up to protect the location of Lash.

"I know it will be a challenge, dear friend... but when have a not got the bounty I've went after?" she said, and with that, she slip her weapons back into their case and lifted herself up to a standing position on the branch. "It's my time. And if you're not going to go after him, at least watch out for the elves in our tribe. Half don't know a single thing about fighting." Korren nodded in response, walking slightly closer to Emory. He handed her an engraved bead, tinted in turquoise. He didn't need to say anything for her to know what it was, a good luck charm. It was similar to the green bead she already had in her hair. "Thank you."

Emory gave him one final glance before jumping down a branch, and then followed by continuing down the tree until she reached the wet forest floor. She was dressed in black cotton pants that fit to her slender form, with a black matching top to go with. She preferred the darker clothes, for it was easier to stay unnoticed. Elves didn't have the capability of blending into the shadows so she had to work with what she had. Making one final prayer to her elven goddess of battle and strength, she took off in a flash. The speed Emory could reach was remarkable, almost appearing as a blur if one was to be standing still while she passed. It was within a hour of straight running that she could finally see the gates to the city up ahead.

"I'm back," she whispered devilishly, pausing for a second to catch her breath. She could see the guards of the gate, two massive Brutes that expected a few coins as the fee for entering La Ciudad. Emory had a satchel tied to her leather belt that stored enough coins that should get her by for this trip. The money the brutes collected was secretly funded to Lash and his gang, once again the dominating power of the area. Emory took patient steps up the hill and stopped casually as the Brutes let down their swords, preventing her from coming any closer. They glanced at her up and down, displeased by how conservative she was dressed. The Brute on the right chuckled, trying to reach for the bottom of Emory's shirt to lift it up. Emory caught his hand in a swift push, glaring at him. "You are a pig," she spat, but still handed them their required coin fee. The comment she made straightened them up, lifting their swords so she could pass though if it was up to them they wouldn't let her come in.

The streets were still fairly bare, seeing as how it was early day and most of the activity came out at night. The stench of the town smelled as it did the last time she was here, of beer and perfume and vomit. At first it was hard to get used to but after the first day she would become accustomed to it. Nothing would ever smell as refreshing as the air did back in her home forest. Emory paced the main street with caution eyes watching every corner. From now on she would be on high alert, ready for anything to come her way. "Now... what to do first?"

Drake awoke to light beginning to shine in on his face. He looked around; he was in one of his safe houses. His head pounded and he recalled the events of the previous day. He had spent it preparing for a kill.

________________________________________________________________________________

He was sneaking onto the Kelnal estate. For a lump sum of 100 000 he was to kill Rayer. Apparently some of the crime syndicates of La Ciudad don’t like people moving in on their crime rings.

He had slipped into his estate at 10:00 in the morning.

He had snuck in dodging the few brutes and guards Rayer had hired. He didn’t think he had any enemies. He slipped into his bed chambers and using a grappling hook hoisted to the rafters. He lay there for 12 hours not moving a muscle. He learned that the guards only checked the room once every four hours. At 10:20 Rayer entered and changed into his night linens. After he was sure he was asleep he dropped the fifteen feet and landed without a sound. Calling upon his magic he put on a mask. It resembled a monster with eyes spouting flames and two large horns upon its head. He drew a vial from his belt and shook it. The thick green liquid sloshed about. Pulling out the cork he dipped in a dart. He punctured the man’s neck and he woke up in a jolt. But he didn’t move. His eyes were filled with terror; he was unable to move and was staring at the devil himself. The devils face twisted into an odd grin.

"Don’t bother to struggle,” the creature said in a flat tone, “you can no longer move or speak.”

There were tears streaking down his face.

“Now then it’s going to be almost four hours till your next guard enters,” he said as he drew several knives. “In that time you should make peace with your God.”

As he left the room cloaking himself into the shadows he looked back. Rayer was pinned to the wall by several knives, his stomach torn apart. Written above him in blood were the words ‘Beware for your sins will find you out’. He was in no way religious but it was always fun to kill as different persona's.
After leaving he found himself drinking at the pub until the wee hours of the morning.
_______________________________________________________________________________

His head was pounding from all the alcohol he drank before heading to his safe house. Standing up and heading to the table, he grabbed a few different leaves and popped them into his mouth. As he chewed the headache lightened. Walking over to the wall he yawned and grabbed several weapons. He threw down some throwing knives, a Gladius and a small curved dagger. He walked over and changed into his usual gray clothing and a cloak. Spitting out the chewed leaves he started to conceal his weapons. It was like a science to him at this point, knives to several leg pouches, dagger to boot and Gladius to an almost invisible scabbard at his right side. He headed to the door. He slid the bolt, opened the door stepped out and put a small poisoned needle trap near the handle.

Heading down the trash filled alleys he made a few turns until he came to a large pile of debris. Kicking a few things he found what he was looking for. A large black coin purse, he hefted it and tossed it up; catching it as it fell, it felt just right. Attaching the purse to his belt he left the alleyways emerging into the streets, he stretched. The streets had yet to fill with the many vendors and citizens. He had to go to the herbalist for some ingredients. He was running low on some key herbs for some of his poisons and remedies.

‘Then on to finding more about this Lash character. He’s bound to be hard to find considering the bounty on his head.’ Drake thought as he walked towards the shop. ‘But then again, enough pain and even the most loyal of men can be made to talk.’

Sitting at the bar, Scarlett sets an empty tumbler on the bar. Sighing, she slides the bartender a tip and pushes herself to her feet. Surveying the crowd, she assesses who seems most likely to tip, and who seems most likely to be a pig. As usual there is a mix of beings, mostly human and brute males. Walking towards the back of the stage, she enters the 'dressing area' for dancers. This is basically a curtained off closet in which it is almost safe to get dressed in. Scarlett had been doing this for 4 years,she knew the drill. As such, she only needed to remove her cloak to be 'dressed' for her shift. La Barra was not famous for its safety and security, thus it was much safer to come already dressed.
Scarlett's 'uniform' consists of a high cropped black tank top, a short red skirt, fishnet stockings and knee high black leather boots.
Sighing, Scarlett waits on the steps backstage, ignoring the brute 'bouncer' who tries without fail every night to seduce her. She simply laughs and ignores him. These brutes are all the same..big and dumb. This particular one has been harmless thus far...but there is a reason they have such a high turnover rate.. never lasting longer than a couple weeks.

Finally, the music changes, Scarlett's cue to change shifts with the current dancer. Maria, a newer dancer comes down the stairs as Scarlett climbs them. She is obviously intoxicated, something many of the dancers use to take the edge off of the experience. She couldn't believe that all people did not enjoy this as much as Scarlett did.
Scarlett puts an extra sway into her hips as she enters into the center light of the stage. Listening to the catcalls from the audience, Scarlett gives a wink and begins her dance routine....

A couple hours later, and after a few breaks, Scarlett is several coins richer. Her shift is over and the night is not quite spent. She returns to the bar with her cloak on once again and places a couple of coins on the bartop.
"Ah Scarlett, when are yah goin' teh leave this bar an' come away with me?"
The human bartender asks her. This is a game they play every night.
"Ah Jake, and leave this wonderful life we have in La Ciudad? I Don't think so.... just the usual tonight" .
Scarlett replies, smirking. She has the same after-show drink every night.

While she sips at her drink, a man slips onto the stool next to her. He is quiet at first, a human man with dark hair. Soon however he begins to stare at Scarlett, as she can sense without needing to look. She has experienced this several times and is prepared to scare him off when he slips a hand under her cloak. Narrowing her eyes she makes a split second decision. She looks over to him and winks, nodding towards the door to the back of the bar. The man's eyes widen in surprise as she slips off her stool and heads towards the door. Scarlett knows without looking that the man would follow. She has danced this dance many times, and she knows the routine.
Once they are outside, she steps out of one of her shoes, tripping slightly, she bends down, seemingly to fix her shoes. However, when she stands back up, a silver dagger flashes in her hand. The man take no notice of this, and steps towards her grinning as if he had just won the lottery. As he reaches towards her she shoves the blade upwards into his sternum. The man falls without a sound onto the ground. Scarlett kneels next to the man and wipes her blade on his cloak, inserting it back into the sheath on her ankle. Searching his body she finds a very small pouch of coins, and tucks it into her own cloak. Standing, Scarlett sees shadows moving farther in the alley. These are the Shadow Walkers...sometimes human in shape, sometimes nothing but shadow.. softly, Scarlett walks out of the alley, away from these figures. She has been on the receiving end of their poison before, and it was not pleasant.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Scarlett winds her way through the streets of La Ciudad to her small apartment. She passed only one figure as she hurried home. Reaching her apartment she opens the door and immediately locks the door and tosses both coin pouches into her floor safe, covering it with a tattered carpet. Finally she showers and readies herself for bed, falling asleep to the sounds of La Cuidad.

Waking in the afternoon, Scarlett shops for groceries and does the sort of mundane tasks that need to be done in any society. These sorts of things were necessary but only a means to get from night to night.
The evening was when Scarlett really shined and enjoyed life itself.
Tonight she decides to go to La Barra earlier than usual. She had been hearing some interesting gossip lately about a man by the name of Lash, or some such thing. It was interesting to listen to, but only another criminal in a city of demons, right?
She finds herself once again in her favorite bar, drinking her favorite drink and observing the crowds that frequent the place. This time however, she listens for any mention of this Lash person...she knows better than to ask up front. She doesn't need that sort of trouble right now.
As the night continues and her bar tab rises, she figures she won't hear anything at this rate. She rises to take the stage when she hears that catches her ear..
"Lash.....yeah.....fires in the west.....La Ciudad..."
This means little to Scarlett, and she files it away for future reference.
She approaches the stage and her night continues as usual...without further incident.

It was about sunrise. The sun peeked right over the gentle waters. Along the coast's mountains, before they drop onto the beach, far from the houses that rest on thoose small mountains/hills, hidden by the peeking rocks and slopes, lay a silent small shabby house. It seems to be a two storie and looks to be about half of a century old. Around 50. The windows have thin white curtians that can be seen by the outside, from how clean the windows are. The door looked to be busted down one time or another. The top floor, seems to only have about three or four windows, one has what looks like a bed sheet over the outside, the bed sheet looks to be about paper thin. The house is isolated, quiet, almost dead.
Looks can be decieving though, because inside, is as almost alive as the city.

Siren eyes slightly open as the sun glimmers into the room. Her short/medium hair is into pigtails and she is wearing a silky white-light blue night gown that is spegetti strapped. She got up and yawned, scratching the back of her head. She walks out. Her room is filled with only a few of her possessions. A mirror, a dresser with a beautiful silver music box on it, and a bed. Her room is fairly small. She walks towards a door. The opens it to find Henery, her 15 year-old brother. "He-n-ry!" She spoke with it as sylabolls.
He barely opened his eyes, chucking a pillow at her. She swiftly dodges it, in a matter of seconds, marching over towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his pajamas. "Hey... who the hell do you think your throwing that pillow at?" She growled.
he gave a weak smile. "I-I love ya' sis!" He praised.
She gave out a smirk. "Ok, I forgive you. Can you take care of Samantha and Benjo please? I have to go out and buy Dad's medicine." She said, walking out with Henery trailing behind her.
She stopped him, closing the door towards her room as he stood outside the closed door. "Ya, I have no plans today." He spoke with a yawn.
She took off her night gown and put on her underwear and garments as they spoke through the door. She strapped her eletric pole and thigh strap to her upper thigh. She then put on her underdress, which was a bright light white dress that went down to her upper thigh, just barely showing her weapon of protection. She opened the second dresser drawer. "Great, I have a list for you." She said, taking out pretty, but poor dresses and looking at them while she talked.
"Wha...? A list!" He complained, rubbing his eyes, now leaning against the door.
She put on a beautiful blue dress. (The one in her picture for her character sheet thingy!:D ) "Yes... Though, its simple stuff, like clean up the dishes, do the laundry, clean up the floor. Things like that, so don't dread." She said, opening her door, making him fall back, but he had caught himself before he could even fall to the ground, at the same time, she undid her pig-tails and brushed her hair to make it pretty and silky like as if falls down behind and on her shoulders.
She walked out. "Oh, and could you cook them breakfast and lunch? I will be back by dinner time." She was occupied with her money wallet and her large 'go green' bag. She turned and pecked him on the cheek. "Bye! Do what I said and tell Benjo that I love him..." She said, walking out.
Henery sighed as he waved good bye to her, walking out.

It takes about an hour to the town, and another hour to the center of town where the doctor was. By the time she reached the doctor, the sun would probably be mid-way up to the high sky. She started to walk further away. Five minutes later, she reached the small brick sidewalk like path that took you right towards the city along with the road. She started to walk, looking up at the sky every so often. About thirty minutes into it, He showed up.

"Are you going back towards town?" The man said, he had a large body structure with a rough thin beard on his jaw, though he was only about in his late 20's.
She looked at him. "Yes, Rick, and no, I have to serve for whats left of my family. I can't go back into Assassanations and stuff untill my father gets better." She had already knew what he was about to say. Rick was her father's friend, who had looked over her as a 'secrete spy' for her father, to make sure that she was alright on the job.
"Geez... everytime I meet you, you get smarter Siren." He quoted, walking with her.
"Oh be quiet." She scolded him. She kept walking, almost trying to shake him off.
"Oh, I see, I will just leave ya' alone then. See yer' Siren!" HE said, breaking off.
She smiled and waved her goodbyes.

Finally, she had reached the town. She walked along edges, with the stores, window shopping. The grocery store had just had a fresh shippment of frurit. "Mmm, the strawberries look fairly good..." She spoke to herself often when she was alone. "I should stopp by there afterwards..." The streets where fairly dirty, and bumms and hobos where scattered. It would just get almost twice as worst as she head deeper into the center, where the pub was, and the place where you can get the bounties and such. She hated it, though, she loved to release her stress on one of theese basterds that did horriable things. She kept walking untill one of the drunk bumms grabbed her ankle and pulled himself onto her shoulder.
"Heeeeeyy... What about a drink lil' lady?" His breath polluted her face with the horriable smell of acholle(spell?)
She pulled away, smacking him upside the head with her hand. "You should stopp drinking, it ruins you more than one way..." She snarled. She stomped away. She hated drunks and perverts... and when she says she hates them, she means it.

Finally, she had reached the inner and center city. She stopped towards the cafe for a drink and rest. She sat down and layed her head down onto the cold tables. She hated the city. Many people, from the drunken bumms to the street fighters and gangsters, they where everywhere here. Men, women and childern alike. The lady gave her her soda as she sipped it down. She paid and walked out. She walked towards the doctor and walked in. The doctor was a large old man, with a beard and large muscular upper body. He had glasses that drooped down his nose.
She moved slightly towards the left, as he had a huge butcher knife in his hand, chasing out an old bumm who had a mouth full of pills. "GET THE HELL OUTTA' MER' OFFEECE'!" He had a heavy hillbilly accent.
He chased the man out. She looked at him, taking out her money wallet and handing him about four copper coins with a silver. "Here." She said handing it to him.
"Well, Ida' be. Yewr' a silvr' short, Miss Siren." He said, looking at his hand where she gave him the money.
She slapped her hands together. "Can I please pay you back? I didn't have enough for this batch because I have to stay home a couple of days... so pleeaassee!?" She begged. "Father's condition worsened yesterday because I was a day late on his medication!! Please doctor! Im begging you!" She pleed.
He looked at her. "Eh.... hmm..." You could tell that he was thinking.

Emory held the turquoise bead of good luck in between her fingers, weaving it in and out and rolling it in her palm. She did this subconsciously to keep her mind at ease, part of her already getting an ominous feeling that times have gotten worse since she was last here in this city. Of course the facade was the same: Brutes passed out on the stone pavements, vendors stealing more than selling, Sirenas selling their bodies and forming acts out on the street just for the hell of it. (Emory personally hated Sirenas. She hadn’t met one in her years of coming here that had a moral code or values. Basically lustful and weak, the image they painted for themselves didn’t set right with her.) This aside, the facade was the same but something in the air felt heavier. This wouldn’t be an easy mission, the stakes were raised ten fold. She would either be leaving with Lash’s head or he would be leaving with hers.

”I need to stop being so morbid,” she thought to herself, shaking her head to try and erase the thoughts running through her mind. Her attention was channeled to studying the few wanderers that roamed the streets. The crowd was decent, people mostly going in and out of shops getting supplies and food. Basic necessities. The night is when everything comes alive. It would soon be a struggle just to pass through a sidewalk without bumping into to someone or something. And seeing as how night was when she began her inquisitions, her interrogations to find some information, she would join this morning crowd in getting better prepared.

In her satchel tied to her belt there wasn’t much besides her coins. There was a small amount of herbs that she used for muscle relaxers and pain relievers, yet she had a feeling she would be needing more if her stay here was extended. Elves naturally healed faster than most other races so she didn’t technically need any wraps for wounds; this said, she still felt pain and that was where the herbs came into use. Plus the muscle relaxers had another use: enough shoved down an enemies throat would one, disable them to run, and two, make them more willing to open up and spill some facts. It couldn’t hurt to buy more now that she was here in the city. There was a shop around here, an herbalist who had sold her different items in the past. That sounded like a good first stop in her escapades.

Emory paced swiftly through the main road, turning at a cornier up ahead. Brick and stone walls were covered in various Wanted posters. The theme on all of them was that they were members of the Bloody Swords. “The Bloody Swords....” her voice trailed off, running her long fingers against the thin parchment posters. The sketches of what these criminals looked like gave her a fairly decent idea of what they must look like. It wouldn’t hurt to go after some of these bounties in the process of getting to Lash. If anything these men would spill some information on Lash before she killed them. One in particular, a poster for a Brute named ‘Dolsh’, stood out to her interests the most. Emory ripped the poster down.

Dolsh “Smasher” Pregator
Brute, Height: 7ft 5in roughly
Distinguishing feature: Scar on left side of neck
Last seen bashing the head of a Sirena on the North side of town
Member of the Bloody Swords
Estimated Rank: Lackey for the Upper Officials
Bounty: 10 GC (Gold Coins)

Emory rolled up the poster, then folded it small enough to where it would fit in her front pocket of her pants. Dolsh sounded like a quick and easy challenge, and 10 GC would be a nice addition to her money pouch. Now, for herbs. She made a few more corner turns before eyeing the shop ahead. Being on such a back street, there wasn’t much traffic as of yet in this area. In fact, it felt like a ghost town. In her vision she could see only one other person on this street. It was a man in grey with a heavy cloak that seemed to have the same idea she had, moving himself in the same direction. A smirk crossed her face. The way he carried himself, the stoic look of concentration to his movements, all hinted at the fact that he had to be an assassin as well. Emory made it to the herbalist’s door first, keeping it ajar incase the human were to enter after her.

The shop owner made eye contact with her as she stepped in through the door. They both nodded in greeting, though no words were exchanged. She wondered if he recognized her from previous trips here. Then again, it had been a fair amount of time since her last venture into La Ciudad. Emory took light, soundless steps over to the corner of the shop that had herbs used for medical use. All of it was here that she needed. She had to give the owner credit, he had one of the best varieties of goods she had ever seen in one location. Before getting what she came in for, she passed these medical supplies and continued to look around to see what was new, green eyes alert and concentrated. All the while the cool chill of her blades pressed against her skin under her clothes, giving her familiar comfort.

Drake had seen the streets begin to fill with all matter of citizens. The vendors were hocking their wares to anyone with more money than sense. ‘I need to find someone who works for this Lash, character,’ Drake, thought as he moved through the streets. He knew that if he could just get a hold of one of Lash’s gang he could get at least a general idea of what area to begin his search.

There was a lamp post along the side of the road with dozens of wanted posters with a wide array of races and criminals on it. Most people looked at these posters for some huge bounty. But the best bounties weren’t the ones that had made enemies of the public. It was the ones who messed with the largest criminal groups, as it so happens they have the most money and the shortest tempers. He scanned them quickly and grabbed everything that made mention of ‘The Bloody Swords’. There was quite a few mostly saying that they might have something to do with ‘The Bloody Swords’. The occasional saying they were extremely low in terms of rank. Even if he could only find a thief of the gang, they always knew someone. Let’s see, ‘Jag’ petty theft, ‘Jak’so’ assault, ‘Dolsh’ assault, ‘Ray’ murder. He thought of last night and a twisted grin came upon his face. He thought of that whelp Rayer and how he sobbed as he was crucified above his bed. He didn’t believe in killing for right or wrong, he just went where the money was best. Often more than not it turned out to wrong.

As he neared his destination he noticed someone stand out from the crowd. You usually don’t see many wood elves travel into La Ciudad. The way she carried herself hid nothing. She was obviously an assassin. She carried one… No two weapons. He could only think of one thing that could possible draw in an wood elf assassin. The huge bounty, that was on everyone’s lips. Too bad that he would be the one walking away with all that gold.

He was heading towards the Herbalist and the Elf seemed to have a similar plan. She entered first and held the door for him. He nodded to her as he walked in. She began to gather whatever she needed. He stepped up and the shop keeper went under the counter and pulled out a small package. Drake accepted the package with a smile. He dipped into his coin purse and pulled out 55 gold pieces. He tossed them down onto the counter and slipped the package into his coin purse. Now usually most people won’t even spend a few silvers on the most expensive items in the front. Drake ordered things from all over the world. He didn’t need to help a man’s heart; he needed to stop it. He had herbs that would help his morning hang over, he had herbs that were fine to eat, but when mixed with another certain herb it was lethal. He didn’t just need to kill people with his blades, sometimes it need to look natural, others and accident sometimes even suicide. For this he needed the most potent herbs for his poisons and remedies. The more potent the herb the higher the cost that was a given.

Most people who bought from shop keepers made sure to double and triple check their packages. Drake had been coming to the same Herbalist for twenty years. He no longer needed to check anything he got. He nodded to the shop keeper and headed to the door. He was rather disappointed; the Elf seemed to be keeping a careful eye on him. He would have enjoyed the fight; he was rarely given the pleasure of fighting someone who at least might see him before he had his blade in their gut. But who knows with the amount of money this bounty was, maybe he would get more than just a single fight with someone who might actually fight back.

Scarlett had both the day and the night off, a rare occurrence. It was unfortunate, as her current 'landlord' has been inflating the price of rent with each passing month. As such, Scarlett was a few days late with the money. She hoped for convenience sake that he didn't notice until she could get the money and slip it under his door in a few days. Ah, she needed to find a more lucrative way to make her money. dancing was all well and good, but it was an unstable way to make her money. she wouldn't stoop to her mother's level by selling herself...but then, there were few things Scarlett actually had a talent for. she could dance, she could fight, she could manipulate and....she listened.
slipping through the crowds at market, Scarlett was deep in thought. People...men particularly, dropped their guards around her, not seeing her as a threat. This had made many a rich man poorer, underestimating her. It also has given Scarlett much information that people would rather have her not know..

Lash....and the Bloody Swords. She had been overhearing nothing else in the back alleys and bars of La Ciudad. A huge bounty was placed on his head, and while Scarlett held no illusions to collecting the bounty...she could collect information. Information that might be worth a pretty coin to the right person.

Grinning with the satisfaction of a plan...well, a plan of sorts... Scarlett stops on the side of the street, eyes scanning the walls for.....ah! There, on the wall of a nearby market hutch! There were pages and pages of bounty posters. It seems some have been ripped down...but there are always more to replace them. Scanning the posters with both her eyes and her finger, she searches for any mention of the Bloody swords. Ah! There were several posters, all mentioning their approximate rank. Ah! Her finger traced a name. "Carver" he was of mid-rank... a weapon's runner for the bloody swords. The bounty was for 1 gold. which was great, though Scarlett wasn't planning on collecting unless she had a great opportunity. The last place he had been seen was a pub a few blocks towards the city center. This meant that Scarlett would look in pubs a few blocks away from that one. These men were all the same, brutal, but not stupid. They need to stay in the same approximate area...but they are too smart to stay in the exact bar they were seen in last.

The sun was setting as Scarlett made her way home. Only to find her belongings being tossed outside by a large, seemingly angry man. "Hey! Horus! What are you doing?!" The man stares down at her indignantly "Yer late De Luca. I rented yer place out." Scarlett swears vibrantly "Listen Horus...!" she begins and is cut off by a rude gesture on his part "Best take yer stuff Sirena. Before it gets taken by someone else." He walks inside the building and Scarlett stares down at her belongings. Luckily this sort of thing had often happened to her, and so she kept her belongings to a minimum.
Stuffing her few changes of clothes and fewer personal effects into a large cloth bag, Scarlett looks around the street. Well..this doesn't change her plans very much, only that she will be going 'home' to.....well, somewhere she was sure.

Scarlett had been to a few different bars before she hit pay dirt...so to speak. Entering into a pub on the west side of the city, she looks around the room and spots a man matching Carver's picture and description. He was medium height, wearing a brown cloak made out of some sort of cheap material and downing drinks like they were going out of style.
Heading to the bar herself, Scarlett seats herself at the end of the bar, next to this man. She casually orders a stiff drink and knocks it back before ordering yet another. The man seems to be keeping an eye on the door. He was either acutely paranoid or he was waiting for someone. Scarlett sips her drink this time....waiting as well.

Time of Day: Afternoon

Emory eyed the human who was picking up a package from the man behind the counter. There must have been some significant goods inside the box because he laid down 55 gold pieces. "Assassin, for sure," she thought to herself with a sly smile, continuing to looks through some more medicinal herbs before walking up to the counter as well. Not only did the guy's outfit kind of hint at his profession, but only assassins could make the amount of gold he just laid down. She herself had an amble amount of gold, but she's an assassin too so go figure. The human walked out of the store, not bothering to check his package. Maybe it was her presence that caused him to rush, maybe he didn't want her to see what was in the box.

Emory's eyes averted back to the salesman, laying her goods out on the counter so he could tally up the total. "That will be..." he paused, as if doing the math in his head, "10 gold for the herbs." The elf opened her satchel, grabbing a handful of coins out and dropping 10 gold like dice. He scooped the money up and nodded his head in appreciation, Emory nodding back. "See ya around," she said rather half-heartedly, dropping the extra coins back in her bag as well as the herbs which he had rapped separately in a brown paper sack. All together she now had on her some muscle relaxing herbs, pain relievers, some truth serum, root from a death flower, and some special fish oil that apparently could burn through the toughest of hide. She hadn't ever bought the fish oil before but it seemed interesting and it couldn't hurt to try it out... maybe on this "Smasher" Brute, the one on the poster she had just taken off from the brick wall outside.

Emory exited the shop, looking left and right down the street from outside the door. She still had amble time to kill before evening struck, so of she went down the right side of the road, further away from the entrance gates into the city. A side street vendor was selling fresh fruit, a variety of apples, pears, and melons. Emory popped a copper coin out of her bag, trading the vendor for a green apple, one of her favorite fruits. She took a large bite out of it as she walked close to the building fronts, tiny frame appearing in and out of the shade. Her eyes skimmed through the Wanted poster again, trying to get a good image in her mind of what this particular Brute would look like. "North side of town," she whispered as she took another bite, the sour juices making her taste buds happy. In her forest, apples didn't grow anywhere. So besides killing criminals, buying some apples were the only other positive thing about coming to La Ciudad.

The further she walked, the more she scanned the faces of the streets. Her enhanced hearing allowed her to pick up on conversations being had. One lined she picked up on caught her attention, "Pollafur knows the meeting location for the next meeting..." Emory walked closer to where she was hearing this from. She passed by an ally, her eyes looking into the darkness... there was a pair of Shadow Walkers who were conversating. She knew they were Shadow Walkers because they were partially in shadow form, but still had a human silhouette. This race was never up to any good, purely of dark magic, which meant whatever meeting they were referring to had to be one in the criminal realm, possibly even a meeting for the Bloody Swords. She didn't want to be obvious that she was eavesdropping so she walked a little past the ally. She dropped her half-finished apple to the ground, letting it roll to a gutter. She wasn't one to litter but the apple would decompose or some hungry animal could finish it off. The flyer of "Smasher" would have to wait for now, folding it back up and placing it in her pocket. Now that her hands were free she was prepared for action, if it came to that. The tough thing with Shadow Walkers though was that they were very hard to fight. All they would have to do is find darkness and dissolve into it, out of their solid human form. And throwing a dagger through a shadow was rather unproductive. So for now, she continued to listen.

"Do you know if... you know who... will be there?" one of them asked. You-know-who, damn could they really be referring to Lash? Emory's interest doubled, but she continued to stay quiet as she leaned up against the brick building's front, out of their view. "Are you crazy? I've yet to see him at a meeting and I've been attending some for a couple months now," the other voice whispered back. From there it grew even quieter, Emory straining her ears to pick up pieces of words. A passerby accidently shoved into Emory, causing her to fall forward a bit, into the view of the alley's entrance once more. Her eyes landed back on the two shadow silhouettes, and they were watching her back. Ugh, she groaned, mad her cover was blown by some clumsy fool. The two in the alley immediately grew silent, an eerie silent as if they understood she was listening in on them.

One that was brave enough walked out of the shade he was hiding in, his human form crystalizing back together the further he walked into the light. Emory's hand went to her side, ready to grab the blade. He seemed to notice her swift move, raising a hand up in the universal symbol to hold on. "Not sure how much you heard, pretty thing... but you're going to want to forget it or else you're walking into a head of trouble."

"I came for trouble," her voice chimed, collected but yet fluid like water. "But seeing as how I'm not going to learn anything new from you all, I feel, oh how do you put it, unsatisfied. It was just getting interesting." Emory drew her blade from the leather case on her belt, spinning it gracefully in her hand. The Shadow Walker who was now in his human form stood where he was, the sun beating down on the pale crevasses in his face. It was apparent that what she said didn't settle right with him, the man pulling out his own weapon, a 10 inch sword with a silver handle. She smiled as if he was so naive and innocent. It was hard to believe those involved in the black arts were so stupid sometimes. His weapon didn't make her flinch even if it was larger than her own. He wouldn't be able to throw that unlike her needle-point blade.

"Come any further and you're going to regret threatening me," Emory spat, her defense up, muscles poised and arms loose for a fight. Of course the man stepped another foot forward, but she wouldn't complain. With each step he was only getting further into the fight, and farther from his safety net of shadows. The other Shadow Walker had the right idea, staying hidden in the blackness of the alleyway. Emory shook her head and chuckled, eyes glaring at the sword in the man's hand and his approach. Within seconds she threw her blade at him, dead on in the abdomen. What, did he not think he was dealing with an assassin? Jeez. He dropped his sword, looking down at his stomach which was pierced by his dagger. Blood began to bubble up and ooze, soaking his dark shirt from the target out. Then, Emory used her power of speed to rush forward, pinning him up against the wall before he could say ouch. Her left arm pressed forcefully in the space between his neck while he right hand grabbed the handle of her blade which was lodged several inches inside the man. He would bleed out and die, but for now he was alive.

"Where is the meeting?" she asked, pushing the blade farther into his stomach. The man moaned for help, but the other Shadow Walker stayed where he knew it was safe. There were no loyalties with these men when it came to life or death. Blood started to trickle from his mouth. "Where?!" she asked again, this time anxious because she didn't want him to die on her before he said anything.

"Screw.... you," he muttered under his breath. He wasn't going to talk. Emory jerked the blade upwards, tearing fresh skin above the entry wound. "Rot in hell," she whispered in his ear and then watched as his eyes flickered shut. Useless. She dropped the man's body to the ground. If she couldn't get any information, then she could at least loot him. She took his sword and the case which was attached to his belt, putting it on her own. She also took his black cloak which had formalized around his neck once he made his way into the light. She also thought cloaks were amusing so she'd try it out for the time being. She checked his pockets for any coins but there was nothing. "Poor fucker," she giggled, then shot her glance to the solo Shadow Walker who was still back against the wall. Her nose ruffled, trying to get a scent of the man, for all of the elves 5 senses were heightened compared to the rest of the races. "I'll be back for you," she said, but her voice almost sounded friendly in a haunting kind of way. He stood in silence.

Emory left the alleyway quickly, not the one to hang around the crime scene waiting for friend of the deceased one to show up. Plus the less to know of her face, the better.

Drake walked down the street the sun high in the sky. He scanned the crowd when he heard shouting. A fat vendor stepped out from a stall selling cakes and other pastries. There was a young man wearing white clothes running like the devil himself was after him. He recognized the face instantly, ‘Jag’. He was from one the posters in his small pile. He sprinted and skidded as he slipped into an alley. The vendor had already given up and had taken his place in his stall again.

‘Well I guess I was in the right place at the right time’ Drake thought as he moved towards the alley. Slipping in and calling upon the shadows to embrace him. He followed the alley until he came upon a hooded figure whose back was bent slightly as he was peering into a bag. Drake, practically invisible kicked a piece of trash to catch the attention of ‘Jag’. He pulled out a small dagger and his eyes bolted around the seemingly empty alley. Sweat began to drip down his face. Drake had analyzed him before he had drawn the dagger. This man was no threat; he was no wetboy, not even an assassin for that matter.

Something moved too quickly for ‘Jag’ to follow. He was then lifted off his feet dropping his dagger and slammed into a wall. He would have screamed if another dagger wasn’t pressed to his throat. “I’ll stop stealing I swear just let me live.” He begged. Drake willed himself to be seen and he materialized. “That’s not what I’m here about.” Drake said pressing the dagger until he began to draw blood. “I need anything you know about these Bloody Swords.” The young man’s eyes widened. “I don’t know anything I swear.” He said whimpering. “Boy if you are lying to me,” Drake started. “I just know that their some gang that’s been setting fires and killing people. Oh please just let me live.” ‘Jag begged. Drake cursed to himself, the first on his stack of wanted posters was nothing.

A twisted grin spread across his face. He let the man drop just to stab him thrice before he touched the ground. ‘Jag’ grabbed his stomach as he slid down the wall leaving a trail of blood. He died quickly with tears pouring down his face. Drake wiped his blade on the man’s white cloths. Drake emerged from the alley sliding the small dagger back into its location.

He remembered that Jak’so the murderer had been seen around here after he butchered a family. He would need to begin looking for him next. That seemed like the kind of man who would be working with the Bloody Swords, as they were just a bunch of murdering psychopaths, Jak’so sounded like he would fit right in. If the poster was more accurate than it was for ‘Jag’, then Jak’so should be a member of decent standing.

Usually after you kill a bunch of people and are wanted you need to lay low. To lay low you need a place to stay. The best place would be the warehouse district where Drakes current safe house is. Drake would have to start asking around the different places that sold and rented warehouses if they had seen him. He still has 45 gold coins in his coin purse. A few coins could make people remember things they had been told to forget.

Drake was now moving with a purpose. The faster he found where Jak’so was hiding the faster he could taste more blood. Blood was his addiction and he craved fighting someone who would put up a fight. His last fifteen kills in the past few weeks has been untrained men and women who didn’t even know which end of a knife was used to stab someone. Maybe this Jak’so would put up a fight before he gave up the information he needed. He knew that before Lash was dead every wetboy and assassin in the city would be leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. ‘Oh how I love my job’ Drake thought as he headed towards the warehouse district.

Scarlett walks down the busy street the next day. It was a busy market day, with vendors screaming, people haggling, and people creeping around in the distinct shadows. She was multi-tasking at the moment. Last night, her recon of Carver and his companion led to information about a safe house in the warehouse district. She figured that she would head there, do some more recon and see what information she could find. In the meantime, she desperately needed to find a place to stay, and the warehouse district was full of mostly empty buildings for her to squat in during the night.

Heading down the street, she lowers the hood on her cloak. Damn but it was hot today, the heavy air making it hard to breathe. Before her she sees a man in white hauling ass towards an alley, and a man chasing him. Looking into the alley as she passes, she hears a scuffle. She shrugs, just another day in La Ciudad. Heading past a vendor, she steps to the back of their stall, blending into the shadows for a split second, snagging an apple off the table, and slipping back onto the road. Taking a bite from the apple, she begins to ponder what she will do with whatever information she acquires. She could sit at a bar and offer the information to people who look the type to be interested in such knowledge. In any case, this sort of knowledge in La Ciudad is always valuable to someone.

Coming up on the warehouse district, she looks around carefully. This area seems darker, simply because of the closeness of the buildings. It gives the streets an ominous feeling. Scarlett hears two men talking nearby, and she slips quickly into the shadows as she comes around the corner.
"-Yeah, well they never came back.." said the first
"Shit..they are them damn shadow people anyhow. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could throw'em"replied the second
"I don't know, I still think the boss should move us, people are gettin' too close.."
"Well, I'd better get back inside 'fore Jerrik gets on my ass."

Scarlett hears a door close nearby, and she is about to turn the corner when a man turns the corner towards her, smacking into her! The man i shocked into silence for a split second, and before he could make a sound, Scarlett grabs him by the wrists and shoves him against the wall. Judging his character for a split second, she asks
"How long a break do'ya have sweetheart?"

His eyes narrow and for a moment, Scarlett is concerned that she had made the wrong decision. But the man smiles and replies "Hmmph...long enough pretty thing. What'ya offerin'?"
She winks at him, and tugs his wrists down, leading them both to the dirty concrete. sitting on his lap she leans in and asks gently "Do'ya have any other friends in there that might want to see some action?"
The man snorts and puts his hand on her waist "There's Jerrik, Anders and Brogan right now....but none of 'em got what-"
Scarlett had what she needed. She grabs both sides of his head and thrusts it back against the brick wall three, four, five times, until he slumps to the side. Pushing herself off of him she stands, wiping her hands off on her cloak. Bending down she looks for any valuables. 6 copper pieces...really? Sighing, she walks around the corner to where the other man had disappeared. Leaning against the wall, hidden in the deepest shadows, she deliberates her next move.