A detective tale from PlaneShift
Sareeda Kiol stood with an air of astute nobility over the Kore Dsar, his striped paw flexing against the longsword strapped to his belt. His contrasting black and white fur stood him out against the sandstone tower, and his blue Kore eyes further stood out by contrasting his greyscale fur. He twitched his nose, slipped a fang out from behind his lips, quickly withdrew it again, and shifted his weight in his sweltering steel plate armour.
The Dsar was a military base, not really the sort of place the average Ylian citizen would have business being in. Rather monotonically tan in colour, it's sandstone walls and structures served their purpose whilst not being pretty or lenient on the eye. They were functional, and that was all that mattered.
Sareeda slowly moved down from the tower, and made his way toward Akkaio Dsar, stopping before leaving the Dsar to admire an old statue of an Enkidukai in rusty plate armour. An old hero from ages past, as far as he knew. Sighing lightly, he wandered into the mercantile district and entered Brado's Tavern. Walking past a member of the Kore Irka Clan, he smirked.
Unofficial militia, he thought, might as well be Blikau compared to us -real- warriors.
He got himself a mug of ale from the bartender, and hauled a seat outside onto the sunny balcony. Carefully removing his plate armour, he stretched out to enjoy the crystal-shine. The stark striping across his chest was disrupted severely, scars from his training and the limited military action he had seen. His size was made apparent by the removal of the bulky armour, his muscular stature sprawled over the chair, causing it to creak as if threatening to break at every minute movement of his body.
Lying there under the Azure Sun, drinking an ale in warm, dry Ojaveda, Sareeda believed himself to be perfectly secure. To a degree, one may debate that he could well have been, had he been any other citizen. That day, however, an assassin had his eye on Sareeda, from behind a building. Concealing his appearance, the assassin had been lying in wait for hours, for the heat to become unbearable for the plate-clad Kore, to the point where he would seek an ale and remove his armour to reduce the overheating occuring in his body.
Sareeda yawned, stretched back, tilting the chair to the point the back rested on the small barrier that prevented cubs from falling off the balcony. It gave out an almighty creak, but Sareeda did nothing to correct it. A Blikau menki came out onto the balcony, and dipped his head slightly, offering a note to the Kore. As soon as Sareeda accepted it, the Blikau ducked off, evidently on courier service. Opening the note his eyes came across these words:
“Death comes to those who laze in the sun.â€
Spinning around to look out over the balcony, Sareeda Kiol saw a flash of purple whish out before him, catching him in his bare chest. Looking down, he noticed a crystalline missile had sliced into his chest, almost piercing his heart. He let out a strangely pained mixture of a growl, groan, grunt, and roar, cut short by the quick collapse of his left lung. Unseen in the urban skyline, the assassin silently cursed Talad and Xiosia at the faulty shot.
Less than a second later, a second flash of purple caught the bewildered, frozen Kore in the centre of his chest, piercing his heart. He slumped to the ground, trying to grab the glistening, translucent arrows out of his chest, but his heart had stopped and within seconds he was dead. Upon his death, the crystal arrows quietly shattered and dissipated into the air.
A few patrons from inside rushed out onto the balcony to find the Enkidukai dead in a pool of his own blood, his soul clearly cast into the murky wastes of the Death Realm.
[To Be Continued...]
