Talia
Demeste - "The Reaper"
Albert Faraungus relaxed into his chair. A small sigh of comfort slipped from his lips as he took hold of the wine glass, the man taking in a quick scent of the pale, pink liquid before bringing it to his mouth for a quick scent. The aroma was sweet. The taste subtle, with a small aftertaste that reminded the man of cherries. Slipping into comfort, Albert cast a glanced down to the papers which rested before him in a neatly stacked pile on the table before him. The papers, a detailed report of his companies finances, expenditures, and profits, only did more to increase the man's mood and enhance the flavor of his wine. Business for the Faraungus Mining Company had been increasing every day, with the company - and more importantly, himself - bringing in record profits and turnovers. The competition, try as they might, were simply proving to be unable to keep up with the gains his company was bringing in. Sure, it involved stepping up on the shoulders of the little people. However in these times, a little leg up was hardly out of the question. Besides that, they were bringing in quite the reasonable wage. At five coppers a day, his diggers were able to live up quite the lavish lifestyle. Yes, their gratitude was quite apparent, his generosity much more so.
"That said, they are seemingly proving to be a bit... lazy as of late," Albert muttered. Despite the increase in profits, he noticed that his miners were starting to bring in less ore as of late. Coal was all well and good, however his more... refined customers, those who lived up in the higher standards such as himself, were of more taste. They wanted diamonds and precious gems, not black rocks and lumps of stone. "Perhaps a pay cut to show what happens with laziness... Three coppers seems to be much more fitting than the payment they are receiving now."
A soft knock on his study door jars Albert from his thoughts. The man takes another sip of his wine, before beckoning the guest on the other side to enter. Slowly, the door creaks open and in steps a young woman, one of Albert's maids, into the study. She is young, roughly of twenty years old, with a fair skin complexion that seems to glow from a mixture of the moonlight shining through his study's windows and faint flames provided by the crackling fireplace. She is dressed in a tight, form fitting black dress, with a frilled, white apron tied around her waist. A pair of white stockings grace her legs, with black, stilettoed heels covering her feet. Her hair, a golden blonde in color, is pulled back into a tight and well kept bun by a silk, white ribbon. Her deep, emerald-green eyes stay focused on the man before her. A sense of unease seems to radiate from her, based on her nervous facial features. Be that as it may, the young woman never takes her eyes away from Albert Faraungus. A faint scar, a whiplash marking left on the back of her right hand, serves as a reminder to never show the master anything but the utmost respect.
"L-Lord Faraungus, my apologies for disturbing you so late," the maid stammers out. "Y-Your call... I... I mean, y-your guest for this evening is waiting for y-you in your chambers."
Albert smiles at the announcement. Was it already so late? It seemed that his "guests" were arriving earlier and earlier every night. Still, his urge was strong. Even if his fun for the evening was starting early, Albert knew it was best to have that itch scratched sooner rather than later. Albert rose from his chair, making his way towards the door leading out to the halls of his manor. He stopped short, however. His eyes quickly turning to face the maid before him.
Hilda was such a fine specimen. She had come to him only recently, two or three months ago to be exact. She was the daughter of an innkeeper down in the lower quarters of Demeste. Most of those locals, particularly from that area in which Hilda lived, were filthy. They carried with them a most repugnant odor, one that was a constant reminder to those in the upper quarters that they were in fact birthed into a higher standard of living. Not Hilda, however. She was a rare beauty, a reminder that a rose is indeed capable of blooming among the weeds.
Feeling an urge raising up into the pit of his stomach, Albert could no longer contain himself. A taste was required, and he decided right then and there that he would partake in the sweet nectar of his rose. Without another moment, he quickly took hold of Hilda and brought the maid's lips to his own. Her eyes widening as she tried to protest, but the feel of his tongue, his breath still rich in the taste of his wine, crashed into her own. Her hands tightened into fists, before suddenly slamming them into the noble's chest in an attempt to push him away. The jovial feeling Albert had been feeling up until that moment quickly vanished. Instead, it was replaced with a look of scorn and anger. Reaching back, the man brought his hand across Hilda's face. An echoing slap resounded off the study walls as the noble slapped her with enough force to send the blonde-haired maid crumpling to the floor.
"Disobedient bitch! I see you still have much to learn!" Albert exclaimed, his voice dripping with venom. "Guards!"
The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard moving down the hallways. Without even a knock, a large, muscle-bound man charged into the room. Dressed in steel armor, a large axe resting on his back, the man looked about the room until his eyes fell upon both Hilda and his master. "My lord? Are you in danger?!"
Albert grunted, shaking his head in response. "Not at all. Just a savage beast in need of more training. Take her to the crypt so she might be taught a proper lesson, yes? Edmund will know how to handle her."
Hilda's eyes widened with fear, the maid curling up upon herself as her body began to shake and tremble. "P-Please... N-No! I didn't mean... It was an accident, my lord!"
Her protests fell upon deaf ears. Albert would not even look at Hilda as his guard roughly dragged the girl to her feet before forcing her out the door and down the hall. Her crying and begging rang out and down the hallway all the while, as Albert only sighed in disgust. He supposed it was only natural. You can take the rose from the weeds, but you cannot expect all those hideous thorns to simply fall off. It was of little concern. After a few days, he knew that Hilda would be a much more submissive and proper servant.
"I suppose I should be on my way. After all, it would be most ungentlemanly to keep tonight's guest waiting."
Exiting the study, Albert Faraungus walked a short walk down the halls of his lavish estate until he came to a large set of double doors. Finely crafted from the wood of a strong, magnificent oak, the door was decorated with golden, stud-like ornaments. The handles, round in shape, were of similar material, complete with two lion heads, one on each doors. Albert felt it was a fine symbol, reflecting his courage and pride, as well as strong leadership that he poured into his company and his manor. A sly smile graced the business man's lips as he knocked gently on the door. His urge building up as a sense of curiosity rose from within. He wondered what kind of lovely specimen had been chosen for the evening. Each night, he sent his head servant, Edmund, out into the city to pick on the finest of "flowers" for him to "sample". Edmund, despite his lower-class origins, had proven himself to be quite the man of taste. Albert trusted that tonight would be no different.
Opening the door, Albert took in the sight of his bedchambers. An ornate, burgundy rug made of only the finest fibers stretched out in the middle of the room, accenting the burgundy curtains and the dark, oak furniture that decorated the room. Each piece had been handcrafted with wood located to the far north, located in the Morin Weald. All of it sturdy, with gold trimming similar to that of the doors which led into the noble's bedchamber to begin with. Framing the walls were various landscape paintings, each one more detailed than the last, with a large, potted plant sitting the southern-left corner of the room. In the center of the room, stood Albert's bed. Silk, lavish sheets were stretched across it, complete with a curtain to pull close when even more privacy was desired. The bed curtain and linen, much like the rug and window curtains, were burgundy in hue, with a gold pull tassel dangling from the top of the bed post. However, what caught the lord's eyes was the vision that sat patiently on the bed.
A lovely vision to behold, a woman clad in black and red. She was wearing a dress, with the skirt being of a deep red and silk in fabric. The top half, a black bustier corset, left little to the imagination. It was tight, pushing up the woman's already ample looking bosom. A pair of fishnet stockings graced her legs, with black heels matching her top covering her feet. A delicately picked, black rose decorated her hair, which orange colored reminded the man of the fiery sky of sunsets one might see in his paintings. Her skin, though pale in complexion, seemed to make her look all the more exotic, with her cold blue eyes making her look all the more enticing. A black facial veil covered the woman's lower face, leaving everything beneath her eyes covered. Despite this however, Lord Albert Faraungus could practically feel his mouth watering at the sight of this absolute beauty. He could feel that urge rising, heating up his insides like a flame in his belly. Yet, the noble managed to keep his composure as he walked into the room. All the while, he made a mental note to give Edmund a bonus this month. Perhaps he would simply let the man keep Hilda for his own pleasures.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting, my dear," Albert began as he removed a deep, midnight-blue waistcoat. The noble hung his garment on the nearby coatrack before he made his way towards a cabinet located on the southern wall of the room. "There was an unforeseen issue to take care of. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
The woman seated in the center of the room nodded with a giggle. A voice that quickened the pace of Albert's heart exiting from ruby-red lips. "It is of no consequence, my lord. I am merely blessed to be in the presence of one as regal and elegant as yourself."
Albert nearly faltered at the comment. The woman's voice, like a melody being carried through the wind, almost beckoning him to throw himself upon her delicate form right now. He coughed lightly, clearing his throat as he reached into the cabinet to take two wine glasses and a bottle. He popped the cork off of the green glass, bringing it to his nose to take in the scent before gently pouring some out for himself and the woman on his bed. A deep purple color, with a strong odor that brought forth a hint of bitterness. Yellow in color, it reminded Albert of freshly picked lemons, yet his refined taste knew that it would not be as bitter as to ruin the evening. He casually brought the glass towards the woman, watching with a smile as she brought the glass to her lip and partook of the wine.
"So... you're familiar with me then?" Albert asked.
The woman nodded. "Oh my, yes. Lord Albert Faraungus, of the Faraungus Mining Comapny. Everyone knows it's the most profitable business in Demeste."
"That would be correct. My, you are as intelligent as you are beautiful."
"A shrewd business man, they say. One who manages his finances carefully. He keeps his employees in check, making sure that they ground they crawl on is sturdy before he climbs upon their backside to profit from their blood and sweat."
Albert's face faltered only slightly. "Well... I assure you that that much is only rumor at best, milady. Why, my men count their blessings that they are able to work for such a generous soul as myself. Without my coin, they would be crawling through the mud of the lower quarter, more likely than not standing on the street corners with hat in hand and begging for a penitence."
"Indeed... Why listen to their cries when you can merely turn a blind eye. Their deaths mean nothing it if it is a way for you to fatten your own wallet, is that not correct?" the woman questioned.
Albert's eyes narrowed. "Pray tell, what concern is it of your own about my men. I pay them. They get their meals and shelter. If they are so displeased, they would make their own exit, perhaps take refuge in the homeless shelters that are constructed at tax payers expense?
My expense? What concern is it of yours?"
A visible anger seemed to overtake Albert's facial features. After dealing with Hilda, the last thing the noble had intended was having to defend himself
from a whore?
"Is it not your job to take care of them? A leader, yes? You should be doing your place to take care of your men. Foster their trust and strengthen their bonds... You are no different from others in so-called 'power'," the woman muttered. Her eyes visibly darkening. "A blight upon humanity. A blight upon the world... You disgust me."
Albert's eyes blazed in a blind fury. He threw his glass to the ground, the liquid inside spilling out onto the floor as the glass now decorated the rug stretching out beneath them. Without hesitation, Albert brought his hand up and prepared to strike the concubine, but the woman grabbed hold of his wrist before that strike could land. The man's eyes widening in surprise. His hand shaking as he tried to move it, but the woman's grip on his wrist did not falter. A deep chill seemed to exude from the veiled-woman's palm, causing the man to wince in pain.
"You... what are you...?" Albert strained. As if on cue, the woman reached up and pulled the veil off of her face. Albert gasped in surprise, immediately taking in the glowing mark that stretched across the woman's face. "A warlock?! Wait, that placement..."
"That's right," Talia answered bluntly as she finally released her grip on Albert's hand. The man stumbled back, falling off the edge of his bed in the process. "The Angel of Death has come to make you answer for your sins, Faraungus..."
Albert quickly scrambled to his feet, the noble lord making his way towards the doors of his bedchamber. However, Talia was not about to let her mark escape. A chilling wind blew through the room as her mark began to glow once more. A crystal-like spearhead formed before her, entirely crafted from cold and sturdy ice. Without delay the pillar shot forward, flying across the room and piercing the back of Albert's leg. The ice pillar jabbed straight through the man's leg, sending forth a wailing howl of pain as Albert toppled back over to the floor.
"M-My men... The guards! Guards! Get in here this moment!" Albert screamed.
Talia remained calm, despite Albert's panicked cries for help. The woman slowly walked forward as Albert tried to pick himself off the ground, to the point that she passed him and placed her palms upon the doors. Pact mark still glowing, ice began to protrude forth from her hands until the doors were completely encased in ice. Talia and Albert could here the sounds of rushing footsteps from the other side, followed by the sounds of cursing as what could only be assumed to be Albert's guards began to slam against the door leading into his bedchamber. No concern was evident on the assassin's face, however. She remained entirely emotionless as she turned her focus back towards Albert. The man was attempting to pick himself back up once more, but was quickly greeted by the visage of Talia kneeling down in front of him. A sharp jab of pain caused another wail of agony to exit from the terrified noble. A sharp, blade of ice now jabbed through his hand, essentially keeping him pinned to the floor.
"There is no escape," Talia stated, removing the wig that covered her normally icy-blue hair. "There never is for the souls of the damned. You have been targeted, by the very men who you step upon. The very men you betray time and time again. Live in a shelter? No... They cry for justice, and those cries will be answered as I reap your soul to hell."
"P-Please... This is all... A misunderstanding!" Albert begged. His voice trembling. The man was on the brink of tears. It was absolutely pathetic. "Money! Yes, I can pay you money! As much as you want, you're an assassin after all! 500 Gold? A thousand gold, yes?!"
"Your money is born on the blood of the oppressed. I'm not interested," Talia muttered.
"D-Do you think they are any better?! They're just as greedy! I assure you!" Albert snapped. "What will you do? Kill them all?!"
"You're not wrong," Talia answered. "Humans are monsters. A blight. Never trustworthy. Never loyal. Always willing to step on each other and kill. And then do it all again when the hierarchy is toppled. "I will always be there to kill... to reap the souls of the damned... It's my duty. Farewell, lord of greed."
Before Albert could utter one more syllable, Talia gripped the man's hair and pulled his head back. Another blade of ice forming in her hand, the woman reached forward and jabbed it straight through the noble's throat. A blood-filled gargle echoed out into the room as the man coughed violently, sputtering fluids across the room and into the air. Talia's face remained unmoved the entire time, the woman watching in silence her target's life faded into nothing.
"A miserable creature... To the very end."
Talia nodded in response to Mifuyu's comment. There was a sense of satisfaction in the Patron's voice. Despite her initial objection to the assassin taking on this task, she seemed to be quite pleased with the results. Still, there was no time to stand around and take pride in the death of such a pitiful human. The beating on the doors behind her alerted Talia that time was of the essence and a hasty exit was needed. Briskly walking past the bloodied corpse of Albert Faraungus, the assassin threw the windows open before disappearing into the night... Another job complete, another vile human soul extinguished.
