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This essentially covers all of Vatican City; all the assassins own passports and can sneak out, if needed depended on who the clients want killed.
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He was a tall, finely dressed man, and in his hands was a long wooden instrument. He plucked the gut stretched out across the wood tenderly, smiling. "Now, you all wanted a story, so a story I shall tell." The man grinned a faded smile, his teeth the color of stained wood.
His fingers flew across the strings, causing a single note to ring out and reverberate down the warm street. The man smiled against, raising an eyebrow at the crowd, sizing them up. A group of ruffians....hm, I guess, the usual one...
He strummed the strings again and his silver tongue kicked into action.
"Eons ago, before your father's time. Before your father's father's time. Before even the time of the Church and popes. Before the time of Jesus Christ. Before the time of the great kings and ancient wars. Before the time of Northerner invasions, before even, the legends of heroes. This time, was a time of peace and prosperity. There were but two groups of people. Those that lived in villages, and those that lived outside the villages. The people were gay and made merry. The harvest was good and there was many a feast in great banquet halls. Much music was had and the wine flowed as free as the rivers.
"There was peace. But peace is a fickle thing, and is gone as quickly as the wind. And there came a time of great strife. Those inside the villages had discovered a great dungeon, when mining for metals in the hill lands.
"Inside this dungeon lived a great beast....who was awoken by the axes and picks of the village-dwellers, and was angered by their intrusion...."
Yes, this was the clutch. The monster. The thing the people wanted and craved for. The man's melodic voice echoed down the street, telling a tale of bravery and strength...a peasant's tale. His fingers occasionally plucked the strings, and his wooden smile was never far from his face. This man was a stranger in the outside world. Always shut up in great estates or monasteries. But, he was awake. Free at last. And soon the world would know his name. For he was the future hero-to-be. The role-model of the universe. This was the great, the magnificent, the not-quite-legendary Templar Jeacque Raynes-Iron.
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He began pacing again, letting Alan's hand fall off of him. "What... She's not... She's not like us..." He stopped at a wall and placed his head on it. "If she doesn't come back, I'm killing the Duchess, her brother, her dog, her dog's brother, and every damn servant in that damned house." His lack of sleep and unusual amount of alcohol within the last week was causing his judgment to slur slightly; he was becoming more an more irrational.
He stepped back and looked at Alan, saddened, "Gaaaaaaaaaah." His weary eyes seemed to be only offset by his tone; stressed and alert.
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He was becoming paranoid.
Pacing resumed, Leo's eyes searched the floor for a clue to where Isabella was; more specifically, if she was alright. But, alas, it seemed the floor yielded nothing as he paced from one wall to the next, never looking up. He muttered quietly to himself his fingers curling in and out.
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Alan thought for a moment and changed how he was walking making himself look more important and dangerous, Alan smiled at Leo "My name is Rilo 'D' Gertus and I am the royal guard charged with protection of the Princess Varia Lionfinich, Alan was glad he was dressed in what he was dressed in, It was a simple dark suit which a lot of nobles and royals a like would wear along with the cloak her wore to hold his "tools".
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He quickly vanished down the street and started heading towards the richer side of town, near the massive cathedral. He was running low on funds, and the rich where always generous to a bard. He grinned to himself and rubbed his face, streaking a fine white powder along his jaw, unnoticed.
He turned down another street and raised his eyebrow at a shady group bearing down on him. They were muttering to themselves and looked like nobles trying to pretend.
Templar reached into a pouch and withdrew a long, thin metallic tube. It was lined with holes and he raised one to his mouth. He started to blow into it, and a soft melody erupted from the tube. It was a twisty melody that spoke of mystery and hidden glories, deep within it's tones. He stopped, removing the tube from his lips and addressed the group of three. "Good evening gentlemen and lady; care to listen to a tune from me? A pretty coin will pry a story that will be sure to warm your soul. And perhaps....keep the brigands off your backs."
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He straightened his back and blinked, waiting for an answer. As far as grifters went, Leo was one of the best. Not to say the others were bad, he'd just been doing it for much longer. When he was training, he learned to read people, and he learned to lie--better than anyone. When he got into character, he was no longer himself. He walked different, he talked different, he even adapted odd mannerisms that made his character... His.
As a Ucoslavian dignitary, he had to speak as if he had only recently "mastered" English. His walk had to be almost a strut; his posture, dominant and cat-like. He always had to be on guard, mostly from mental attacks. As a diplomat, people attacked him with words rather than hand-to-hand combat or daggers. He was Marvich L'Nic.
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Alan walked slowly up out of the shadows to put himself between Leo and the bard as would his job be if he was who he now said he was, Alan's gaze flickered over the bard weighting him up as a knight or other person trusted enough to guard a princess would, Alan gave a small cough as Leo finished his speech "Bard I suggest you move" he said with a voice designed to not carry his accent but allowing the posh manner of a noble to fill his voice instead.
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"Of course, who am I to ask who's business is what? I am just a simple bard, no one of importance. My job is to entertain, tell stories to the masses and appease the drunken hordes that pervade the streets of our fine city." He waved his hand about the street for effect. "Of course..." His grinned sharpened, eying the group with a cat-like malice. "I could always just leave, and go entertain others...I'm sure someone wants to hear my stories."
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