Maihele slipped down a few allyways, gasping for breath as she paused for a moment, though not long, as the soldiers swiftly found her path and were again after her.

She had shed the grey garment, its tatters having hindered her freedom of movement, and now held onto hopes of hiding in shadow, but it was bright still and the sun shone glaringly against each wall and path. And expression of desparation came upon Maihele's face, but she trudged onward, rounding a corner to where she knew the gate would be, but there, not far before her, stood an archer at ready.

Without further hesitation, the woman turned heel and ran again into the ally way from which she had come, but men blocked her path, and she was forced to continue in the direction of the gate to the lower level, exposing herself to the line of fire from the archer.

With the swiftness and agility of a cat, she dodged forward across the street, into an opposite ally way, expecting at any moment to feel the sharp stink of an arrow in her side or back.

Exhausted, she stumbled and collapsed as she came to a shadowed area behind a dwelling, her breathing heavy and sweat upon her brow, her eyes cold with determination, though fear still glinted within them.

Maihele could again hear the shouts of soldiers, and forced herself again to her lightly booted feet, heading the opposite direction of the gate, altering her course several times.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Name: Karn
Age: ??
Race: ??
Appearance: Tall (6ft 5), slender, long brown hair. Dark Brown eyes. Both ears look unaturaly flat on the top and are scared.
History: Karn started life called Curical, someone believed to be dead for many many years.
Karn appeared from practically nowhere some years before the destruction of the ring. Adapt with many forms of weaponry he works as a bounty hunter for the highest bidder. He is always hard to find as Karn travels to all corners of the earth but the best place to find him is usualy in a seedy dimly lit bar. A ruthless killer whose trademark is to always bring back the heart of the victim to the client.
(Will reveal more history as we go on)

_________________

"Rock N' Roll is the only relgion that never lets you down!" ~ Lemmy Kilmister

[!*#_:]

(oooh, Me likes it, Malrid. Welcome aboard!)

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

"Halt!" Dagonet yelled out as he percieved the dark shape now seemingly wrapped in a grey cloak as she did catch the sun. He hasitated for a blink of an eye fearing he might slay somone innocent but he had no choice. He let the arrow loose and it darted towards the target. Unfortunately the figure dissapeared into an ally dodging the arrow for a few hair strands. The black arrow bounced of the stone walls and broke asunder missing its target.

Dagonet let out a silent curse deep within himself and swiftly bounded after the figure. He was joined by three more men as they entered the dark part of the street. He slowed down "Steady now, draw swords..." he spoke as all four entered the ally. Dagonet them motioned to each one and gave them the direction in which way to go without any words. Swiftly the men spread out and with a careful step and an aware gaze they searched for the killer who was still abroad...

_________________
I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Maihele leaned heavily against a shadowed wall in a small path between two dwellings, flattening her figure to avoid being noticed as one of the men went past. She was not so lucky, however, when a second came by, for he began coming down the ally way. Knowing being seen was inevitable, she darted down the short path, but as she came to the street, she was intercepted by another soldier, thus forcing her to turn.

Now finding herself caught between two men who towered over her shorter figure, and seemed massive compared to her thin appearance, she unsheathed her twin blades, the metal glinting, no stain remaining upon them in any form. It was a last resort for her, and she firmed her composure, her expression steeled though a hunted look dwelt in her eyes.

“Leave me be! I mean no harm to you, just leave me be!” She called out, her words calm, but desperate enough to put a heightened tone to it. She glanced back and forth between the two men, standing so that each of her blades where faced at ready to each of them.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Karn had entered the city a day ago. He was close ... very close... he could feel it in his bones... smell it in the air. The fact that the streets were silent may have something to do with it. The slender figure dressed in a long flowing black hooded cloak walked slowly down the street. The memory of his mission flooding his head.

"I want her alive!" The old bearded man threw his fist down on the table, plates flew briefly in the air. "I want her to suffer at my hands!"
Karn snarled from the shadow of his hood. The dimmly lit hall was empty except for the two men trying to reach an agreement. The old man was rich, owned a small army in Rohan, a noble of the king. His wealth was not reflected by the hall, the table was old, bare and wobbled, the plates were not even silver, very simple crude pottery. Karn swilled his wine in the crude goblet.
"I only kill, I don't capture." Karn said very bluntly. It was obvious that the bearded noble was not pleased.
"I want her alive!" He growled through gritted teeth.
Karn took another sip and put the goblet down. The chair rocked as he moved. "I only kill, that's why i'm called an assasin."
The noble man frowned and reached inside his jacket pulling out a small leather bag of coins. He threw it on the table, the coins spilling out.
"That is a tenth of what you will recieve if you complete the mission. I want that devil woman alive, she killed many of my men."
Karn eyed the amount and his interest grew.
"Hmm..."
The noble smiled seeing that Karn had gained some interest.
"Take that as a down payment. Use any method you wish to capture her but I want alive."
Karn reached out a hand and put a hand on the bag of coins. As he did the noble's hand thrust out grabbing Karn's wrist. Karn shot his up looking at him from the shadow of his hood.
"Alive Karn. If you bring me back a heart I will personaly hunt you down."
Karn pulled his hand back quickly snatching the coins.
"You'll have your devil woman."


Karn continued down the street until he heard a cry. A woman. He ran towards it with the grace of a deer, his feet not making a sound on the floor. He came up to building and pressed his back against the wall. Peeking his head around the corner he saw a pale looking woman with two blades out. Obviously this was the "devil woman". He unsheathed two daggers, jumped sideways throwing the daggers at the two men hitting both in the neck and rolling behind another building. Karn smiled as he heard the bodies hit the floor. He needed to catch her off guard, Karn would bide his time.

_________________

"Rock N' Roll is the only relgion that never lets you down!" ~ Lemmy Kilmister

[!*#_:]

Maihele froze in place, seeming shocked as the two soldiers fell lifeless with skillfully placed throwing daggers in their necks. For the moment she stood there, she trembled, knowing it would be blamed on her. She had no intention of harming the men, and would have merely feigned strikes and knocked them unconcious, but this was death, and this was blood.

Her first suspicion was that Firbrar had come to push her deeper into the blame, but as her glance shot over to observe a flitting figure, she knew instantly it was something different.

One of the men was still breathing it seemed, however, and she bent over to see if he could at least be saved, but the dagger was imbedded too deeply. Maihele placed her cloak against the wound, not removing the blade for fear of the blood pouring stronger, yet despite her effort to beg the soldier to hold to life while she held the cloth on, she could sense his life slipping away.

Unable to linger for fear of being captured or killed by the same being who had killed the men, she stood, leaving her cloak behind with the fallen soldier, she turned heel and ran in the direction she had seen the flitting figure, sheathing one of her blades while still weilding the second. Soldiers were still close by, and she could hear their voices approaching the ally way and they would soon find the men...

Blood was still on her hands from the soldier, but she paid no heed to it as she focused merely on escaping and getting herself out of the situation somehow. Her anger flamed within her eyes, the hateful feelings bent upon the one who threw her into the blame and chaos.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Karn watched her leave and smiled. He needed her to feel calm, not threatened, in this state of mind it would be almost impossible to get close enough without her knoweldge. He ran silently to the bodies, grabbing his kniefs and sheathing them again under his sleeves.
He grabbed the first body and pulled it into a dark hidden alley way, then ran back to the second body. The blood on the floor needed to be cleared up and fast. He pulled the second body away with the first the looked around for anything that might help. He caught sight of a barrel of ale. He grabbed it and rolled it in front of the blood. Stabbing at the top he caused the ale to rush out doing a very shoddy clean of the street but at least now it looked more like a drunken brawl.
Karn smiled took a quick look around then gave chase after the woman.

_________________

"Rock N' Roll is the only relgion that never lets you down!" ~ Lemmy Kilmister

[!*#_:]

(would post, but life is busy right now, must run! Big trouble if I don't. Tata! Later)

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

[Hmm, seems someone was active pretty much *raises brow with a slight smile* Welcome Malrid...]

As the shadows of the red afternoon sun slowly grew. Dagonet ran through the streets in pursuit for the woman but by ill chance he lost her. Suddenly he heard comotion not two streets away to the right. With a drawn sword and the bow flung over his shoulder he rushed towards it alone. Fear and dismay was in his mind because he felt that some lethal damage has been done. As he entered the street there was no trace of anyone except of a barrel that was leaking all over the place. His brows furrowed knowing that no barrel of ale would be left to leak throughout the street if it wasn't on purpose.

With a slow step Dagonet approached the barrel to inspect it and suddenly he heard a muffled groan of pain and beheld one of his men severely wounded laying on the stone floor bleeding from the neck.

"Brenor!" Dagonet exclaimed and flung the barrel aside as he dropped to his knees to assist the poor man. Anger and rage was carved on his face as he took the man into his arms and pressed his hand against the wound on the neck. He cried out then for help with all his strong voice and the yell echoed through the streets. As he lowered his gaze he percieved the other comrade also deeper in the alley laying in a pool of blood and obviously he passed away "No...." he whispered unable to find the strength to open his mouth as he rocked the man in his arms not wanting to let go of him and his valuable life. "That woman shall pay for this!" Dagonet spoke through ground teeth, but as he formed the words Brenor grabbed him by the arm and looked up at him with his last glance "It was not..... the ....woman. There was a..another" Brenor coughed heavy when five more men had rushed to their aid, shock and dismay was on their faces but also rage and anger, anger so strong towards the animal who had slain their comrades and friends.

"It was....a man....tall" Brenor continued with his last strength to speak, his gaze distant and disfocused but he looked at Dagonet face to face with wide open eyes "...... brown hair and.....eyes.....an......outsider" he let out another muffled groan, his face pale like frost "Dagonet...... protect....the....women and....children, protect......my family" and those were the last words Brenor spoke before he let out his last breath and thus passed away leaving a wife without a husband and two children without a father.

"Brenor....." Dagonet called his name silently while shaking him slightly, tears stained his face unaware "Brenor....." but the man did not reply. Dagonet then let out a yell that froze the hearts of men around him and seemingly throughout the city. Slowly he placed his trembing hand across Brenor's eyes and slid them shut "Be at peace.....Soldier of Gondor" Dagonet whispered with a strained voice, his face grim. Slowly he placed the body on the floor and covered it with his cape that he unclasped from his shoulders.

With a staggering effort he forced himself up to his feet and swayed on them slightly then he turned to the gathered men. They thought that some menece came from the deep and entered Dagonet for the expression on his face caused their gaze to falter, the strength of it was almost deadly.

"Seems the hunter has become the hunted" he spoke with a weavering but firm tone "Find the man at all cost and bring him to justice!" his voice roused stronger "Bring him to me in the condition that he is able to speak for an hour or two, more I do not need that animal! Summon the soldiers to this level, call the Captain of the White Tower also and his force.The villans will beg for mercy by the end of the day!" his voice roused almost to yelling but then he lowered it again almost to a whisper "Find also the woman and bring her to me alike. Seems there is more to these events then meets the eye...."

With those words Dagonet picked up his sword that he flung aside before running to aid the fallen and held it in a firm clasp of his hand. Without any words he turned around and went to hunt the beast who slayed the innocent men in the most cowardly way, affraid to face the mighty Soldiers of Gondor.

More men came and they carried away the bodies into unknown directions and prepare them for the burial. Soon the entire city was in the uproar and the entire level where the slaughtering happened was blocked from both gates. Deadly archers stood guard and watched the level from the upper levels with knocked arrows ready to fire at anybody that seemed threatening. Tall and strong soldiers armored fully that carried the most lethal swords and spears begun to enter the level while nobody was let out.

_________________
I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Karn stoped in his tracks at the sight of a patrol. Three guards walking away from him, still a major threat. He had been careless, too careless. Looking at the guards he cursed under his breath and dived to his left behind a stack of boxes. One of the guards stopped and turned around looking down the street. He shruged and continued down the street.
Karn sighed, it would be very difficult now. He listened carefully and ducked out from behind the boxes. If they had been smart they would have blocked off the exits, which would mean he was trapped but so was his prize. Karn drew a dagger and crept down trying to avoid being seen.

_________________

"Rock N' Roll is the only relgion that never lets you down!" ~ Lemmy Kilmister

[!*#_:]

Maihele had spent years hunting and being hunted, and she knew when the hunter had begun a chase. Taking on stealth, she crept down the streets, her breath barely calming from all the running she had done to escape from the grasps of many.

She knew Firbrar was smart, and never would he allow himself to be entrapped among such danger. He wanted to live to hunt another night, and that was the one thing she had to prevent...

Heard clearly were the cries of a Gondorian soldier as the two slain men were found, and Maihele trembled for a moment, her eyes closed as she tried to block the voices from her mind, but to no avail.

It wasn't long before Maihele realized archers were being placed in certain locations along the wall, and no longer could she safely step into any street, for fear of an arrow sinking into her back.

Clenching her fist against the hilt of her lengthy dagger, she struct it angrily against a wall, the strong steel creating a spark but not weakening in anyway. She withheld a cry she would have let loose had she been foolish, for not even her anger won over her caution.

Maihele decided to sit within the shadows, waiting for things to settle, or waiting to be flushed out, as she remained silent. She sank to a sitting position against the wall, her legs unwilling to carry her a step farther unless it was direly needed, though she continued to hold within her grasp the blade.

Idly she trailed her fingers over the steel, though her focus was upon her surrounds, and cautious was her dark gaze. For a moment she bowed her head to her drawn up knees, relying mostly on her hearing and senses.

She was a small figure to behold; thin and shorter in stature than most elves, curled in such a position as she was, seeming so vulnerable, her pallid complexion giving her a mallnurished look, but she was still strong. The spark within her eyes still lit, even though the expression constantly holding to her face was dulled and grim, and never would she give in, for she would rather die, but even then she knew she had to keep after Firbrar, till she either at last caught him, or till the end came finally...

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

The night was slowly drawing in and the first of the brightest stars begun to show their face as the sun faded behind the western mountains and covered the White City into shadow.

Dagonet walked abroad with a slow and silent step through the streets and mostly alone. His eyes kindled on flame of revenge and anger sweep across the night shadows searching detailed for any movement or sign of threat. He entered a narrow street that was hidden from the watchful eyes of the archers above, torches had been lit a while ago and all was gloomy but he noticed a slight flash, most likely that of a steel blade as it reflected the flame. His eyes narrowed and the urge to rush to its source with a yell was more then ever but by some fate he managed to hold off his emotions. Swiftly and silently he entered the alley to the left and then turned right down a narrow corridor amongst the houses. The leather boots barely made a sound on the stone paving. After a few more paces he turned once again right and there he percieved what caused the flash. A hooded figure, hunched to the ground that was clutching to the dagger that gave her away. With a silent step of a wolf, Dagonet walked very slowly towards the hunched figure with his sword drawn by his side. Revenge would be swift.

_________________
I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Maihele's composure trembled slightly, as she sensed a watchful gaze upon her, and in a flash she was on her feet, holding her breath for a second as she held her blade at ready before her.

In the darkness of the deepening night, she percieved the shadow of a figure, a gondorian no doubt, who's size won over hers with barely an effort, but she held no fear.

Turning, she seemed about to run, but something stopped her, and she turned again to face the soldier. "Leave me be," she muttered through clenched teeth. "You don't know the half of all this, and you don't want to know. Just let me be and I'll be on my way, but if you don't let me go, there shall be dire consiquences. Please..."

Her eyes focused on him in a calm manner, though her choice of words had most likely set her deeper into the trouble that awaited her, for she noted the glimmer of hate and anger in the man's eyes.

Standing there, she merely waited for his reaction, as though succombing to her fate, whichever way it might turn, but beneath the worn and thin figure and the calm composure, there burned a ready fire, prepared to be set loose at any moment if she needed it.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Dagonet raised his sword and it pointed straight towards her, then he spoke with a low and heavy voice, his eyes turned on flame from the surrounding torches

"Where is your companion, the one who slayed my kin, my brothers?!" he demanded "Speak swiftly and I shall spare you both painful deaths. You had both been fools if you thought you could walk through the streets of my beloved city slaughtering innocent people. I give you my word, neither of you will come live if you fail to cooperate"

his gaze was pierecing and if it would be able to kill, the woman infront of him would most likely die a thousand deaths by now but there was something in her tone that puzzled him and most of all the pleading in the end.

Three more men, fully armed, one with a deadly spear and two with swords, entered the street as they heard the voices. Two surrounded the woman along with Dagonet while the one holding the spear stood watch with a sharp gaze.

_________________
I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Noticing she had been surounded, Maihele worked a thousand thoughts at once, the main one being she had to get herself free to stop Firbrar from reigning another night in the city. "I did not harm a soul within these walls!" She replied swiftly, desparation in her tone.

"Also I have no partner, there is no one who I would wish to drag along anyway," she half muttered under her breath before speaking in a more firm tone. "You have no idea what death I spare you of... he will come, and if I am not there, he will succeed. The one who killed your men, I do not know who he is, but no doubt he bears the same misunderstanding of me that you do. Now let me go before I am forced to do something more drastic," she swiftly spoke, unsheathing her second blade, distancing herself from the men.

Maihele gave one more firm glance toward the one who seemed to be the leader of those there, her eyes dimmed with a knowledge only she held as she lowered her voice near a whisper. "You don't know the half of it... and if I can help it, you never will, for the sake of the people within these walls"

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~