EZ_Caramir Belanduil
10-24-00, 07:56 PM
Caramir stared north across the sparkling waters of the Oasis of Marr towards the tower.
There was much beauty, purity in the waters of the Oasis. But as many seasoned traveller would tell you, this purity was blighted by the presence of Sceptres and Deepwater Goblins. This state of affairs might have worried a Paladin of Marr, but for Caramir they were of little note.
Caramir took the world for what it was. Good, Evil, it mattered not. For Caramir what mattered most was survival, and the job.
It had always been this way.
His early memories were of the docks of Freeport, the sea air, the money that he made by begging. Knowing not his parents, he survived through cunning, with and most importantly LUCK.
Indeed it was his luck that caused the Coalition of Tradesfolk - Freeport's loose association of Theives, Assassins, Beggers and Con Artists - to feed him and make use of his services. Whether it be delivering a message, acting as lookout he was paid not in coin, but with lessons.
Over time he was admitted to the association and began his training in ernest.
Ah luck, that intangible constant that all rogues would pray for. Caramir, despite his upbringing was no agnostic or atheist. Introduced to the worship of Bristlebain by a travelling bard, he made sure he would ask for the God of Theives blessing often.
"Will you take the job?", the dark elf rasped.
Caramir considered the Dark Elf. He said his name was Klypsra, but Caramir did not beleive that.
"So you wish me to go to the Commonalnds, steal past the Freeport Militia and eliminate one of your own kind?"
"Yes," the Dark Elf said shortly.
"And if I do this, I will need to be paid handsomely. I will need to disappear from this part of Antonica for many years."
"We are aware of that Assassin."
Caramir slided to his feet. "You will have my answer in two days hence Teir Dal. Send your representative to the Seafarer's Roost, I shall be there."
The Dark Elf nodded and started to walk away.
Without hesitation Caramir whipped out his dirk and plunged it into the Teir Dal's back. As the Dark Elf felt searing pain along his backbone he turned. Like lightning Caramir's other dirk sliced the Dark Elf's throat, his blood splurting across the yellow sand.
Caramir retreived his dagger from Klypsra's back, and cleaned it on the leather tunic of the now dead Dark Elf.
"I am sorry my friend," he said to the still corpse, "I had already taken another job."
As the shadows lengthened across the Oasis of Marr, and the undead of battles ages past stirred, Caramir stepped from the light and headed north.
Caramir Belanduil
Spy and Assassin of the 13th Dagger
Southern Sentinals
Assassinand Procurator of Goods for the Southern SentinalsSilenceis deep as Eternity, speech is shallow as Time.
There was much beauty, purity in the waters of the Oasis. But as many seasoned traveller would tell you, this purity was blighted by the presence of Sceptres and Deepwater Goblins. This state of affairs might have worried a Paladin of Marr, but for Caramir they were of little note.
Caramir took the world for what it was. Good, Evil, it mattered not. For Caramir what mattered most was survival, and the job.
It had always been this way.
His early memories were of the docks of Freeport, the sea air, the money that he made by begging. Knowing not his parents, he survived through cunning, with and most importantly LUCK.
Indeed it was his luck that caused the Coalition of Tradesfolk - Freeport's loose association of Theives, Assassins, Beggers and Con Artists - to feed him and make use of his services. Whether it be delivering a message, acting as lookout he was paid not in coin, but with lessons.
Over time he was admitted to the association and began his training in ernest.
Ah luck, that intangible constant that all rogues would pray for. Caramir, despite his upbringing was no agnostic or atheist. Introduced to the worship of Bristlebain by a travelling bard, he made sure he would ask for the God of Theives blessing often.
"Will you take the job?", the dark elf rasped.
Caramir considered the Dark Elf. He said his name was Klypsra, but Caramir did not beleive that.
"So you wish me to go to the Commonalnds, steal past the Freeport Militia and eliminate one of your own kind?"
"Yes," the Dark Elf said shortly.
"And if I do this, I will need to be paid handsomely. I will need to disappear from this part of Antonica for many years."
"We are aware of that Assassin."
Caramir slided to his feet. "You will have my answer in two days hence Teir Dal. Send your representative to the Seafarer's Roost, I shall be there."
The Dark Elf nodded and started to walk away.
Without hesitation Caramir whipped out his dirk and plunged it into the Teir Dal's back. As the Dark Elf felt searing pain along his backbone he turned. Like lightning Caramir's other dirk sliced the Dark Elf's throat, his blood splurting across the yellow sand.
Caramir retreived his dagger from Klypsra's back, and cleaned it on the leather tunic of the now dead Dark Elf.
"I am sorry my friend," he said to the still corpse, "I had already taken another job."
As the shadows lengthened across the Oasis of Marr, and the undead of battles ages past stirred, Caramir stepped from the light and headed north.
Caramir Belanduil
Spy and Assassin of the 13th Dagger
Southern Sentinals
Assassinand Procurator of Goods for the Southern SentinalsSilenceis deep as Eternity, speech is shallow as Time.