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The Island of Thain :: Forums :: In Character Discussion
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Belladonna - The Beautiful Lady, a poison that can cure or kill. - Vincent Coll assassin for hire

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Rodgr Thunderguts
12:29:34 am GMT 07/24/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
Vincent Coll remembered little of his younger years, just misery and doing his best to stay alive. As many of the lower classes did in Grey Town, Vincent grew up hard not by choice, but through necessity. His earliest fond memory was that of Grax, a hulking brute of a man who used to strap him with the belt when he did not steal the right goods from the market. Though most would not see that as a fond memory, Vince saw it that someone needed him and that one day, someday soon he would kill Grax.

Years past as often they do and Vince grew into an accomplished cutpurse and when the need arose someone who could walk in crowds without being noticed, planting evidence on this noble or taking something from another, with none the wiser.

At this particular time he was looking up at the sky at wonderment at how blue it could be. He was shaken from his revelry as another heavy boot kicked into his ribs again driving the wind from his lungs like a blacksmith's bellows. Rolling as best as he could from the strike, he turned to see the hulking figure of Grax, not carrying a strap this time, but a wicked blade with two edges, so the cut would not heal easily.

"You think you could best me in a fight?" Screamed Grax, looking not that much worse for the wear, with the exception of a small scratch on the back of his left hand and a red face from beating Vince half to death.

"I knew I could never beat you in a fight" Vince said, spitting a mouthful of blood away, and continued "but I knew I could beat you". At this time Vince sat on his haunches and watched a puzzled expression on Grax's face as he dropped the blade and sank to his knees grasping at his neck, his face already becoming red, then slowly turning purple.

"What did you do?" Grax struggled to say "How?".

"A simple scratch sent the poison from a giant scorpion through your veins" at this remark Vince showed his ring to Grax, growing ever more purple "Funny what a little scratch can do with the right ingredients.''

Grax died an agonising death, much to the indifference of Vince, who had liberated him of all of his belongings and thrown his body in the Grey Marsh to be eaten by whatever beasts roamed there.

A week or so later he was not surprised to find himself with a bag over his head, hands shackled behind his back on a wagon to who knows where, though he was very surprised when he got to his destination that he was still alive. His eyes hurt when the bag came off and the bright mage light straight at his eyes made it hard to see, so he did as he was trained and listened and smelled for any detail that would help him. A deep voice, spoke to him at length, clearly altered by mage magic offering two choices, one live and do his bidding, two have his head removed from his shoulders.

Taking the second option as the most prudent, Vince became indentured into the next chapter of his life and what a journey it would take him on. His training started immediately though was not harsh like the foot-pads or sell swords, it was exacting and methodical, brainwashing him, while training him to have free thought. He learned the use of poisons and how to blend in a be polite when needed and when to take a life when ordered.

Never one for any religious beliefs, that was all for those stuck up Paladin types and their pompous attitudes, he oddly became attuned to Shar the Mistress of the Night and would often find himself thinking how much easier his job would be if she aided him now and then.

With little warning, as quickly as his training had begun he was given an assignment to leave the Grey Town and head to The Island of Thain, for a bounty on the head of Fingers Brinsbanner, one who had left the Guild without permission.


(( open thread for posting ))
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Rodgr Thunderguts
4:07:49 am GMT 08/06/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
The Island had proved to be more interesting than he had thought it would be. The Grey Town guild had certainly not informed him of most of the sights he had seen since his arrival on Thain. Vince pondered about the many characters he had met, whilst tying weighted wire mesh around a body so it would not float to the surface when it decomposed, but instead pop like an overripe tomato. The baker in Websters landing was a character for sure, making the most savoury pies he thought he had ever eaten, and also being a great fence for the occasional “found” item that made it his way. Some of the adventurers on the Isle seemed embroiled in some kind of a war, which Vince wondered if he could some day use to his advantage, as people always seemed to work against each other, whether for good or ill it seemed. Heaving the body into the pool where the oozes seemed to crawl, Vince figured what better place to dispose of it. The hot water would destroy it in no time, if not the oozes would swallow it up and absorb it before anyone even knew he was missing. Another contract fulfilled. Watching the body sink out of sight, he went back to thinking everyone has a price, even those who blindly follow the faith of their chosen gods. At some point something, whether it is for financial gain or power will sway someone's will. His last journey had even had him meet a celestial being, or so it claimed to be, giving him an education on faith, in cooperation with a paladin Vince oddly found himself liking. Being told he should not expect an answer from the god he prayed to he, mumbled the nearest thing he could think to a prayer to Shar. Perhaps the incredible winged creature and paladin who showed great humility would be right and one day she would answer his prayer. Kicking a rock into the pool, satisfied the body was gone, he thought…. most likely not and went back through the passageway to find his bed and wait for the next message.
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Rodgr Thunderguts
12:51:09 am GMT 09/01/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
Fate was an odd thing, a twist in one direction would lead to a different outcome to a twist in another, much like a knife in the chest, one way leading a quick death, the other a painful prolonged agony. Fate on this day had most assuredly twisted in a direction Vincent was not expecting. The meeting with the other liquidator had gone well indeed and a future on the Isle seemed promising, even though he had yet to hear of Fingers' whereabouts. It seemed that the possibility of setting up business here was a certainty. His mind snapped back to focus though as a rift in the air opened and the sight before him left him slightly agog. Instead of the usual contract in a a box, this time the contract requested a meeting in person, which usually meant one of two things, one you were going to be killed, or two you had piqued someone of importance's interest in you, which was not necessarily a good thing. Doing everything he could in his mind to stay calm, he focused on the client in front of him, who spoke not through the slathering tooth filled maw, but directly into his mind, pushing away all the training he had done to disassociate his thoughts preventing him from having them read. It said simply "I have a task for you and you have been recommended as the one to do it". The ensuing conversation made even Vince wonder about the mark, though not enough to not take the job.
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Rodgr Thunderguts
1:54:51 am GMT 09/15/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
He remembered one of his associates asking him once many moons ago "What noise does a shadow make? That is the noise you must become". As he looked at the bodies on the floor, he flipped the coin the beholder had given him into the mire. Even as it sank slightly into the pool of blood, the clearly visible symbol of Helm could be seen. Vince wondered what game the beholder was playing, though cared not in the grand scheme of things. He had used a long sword as requested so the attack would look like one of those undertaken by a knight or paladin of the order. The weapon had felt clumsy ion his hand, though the impact clearly showed one of blunt force and not the finesse associated with his usual work. The message left for the other would be clear who had done this.
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The next assignment the floating eyeball (that oozed terror) had paid him to undertake was to put a small vial of jet black liquid into the communal cooking cauldron. The vial was small in size and the liquid within seemed to absorb all light that came near it, almost devouring it from the air around. Padding through the camp while they slept making no more noise than a mouse walking on soft sand Vince poured the contents into the soup and watched as it disappeared into the warming mix, no doubt being prepared for breakfast. The odd thing was the contract he had taken was not for money or jewels, but merely for a favour. The favour was from a beholder though....
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Rodgr Thunderguts
6:19:22 pm GMT 10/02/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
Vince sat quietly in the chair watching the wizard who had summoned him. Relatively non-descript to look at, though with jet black eyes that seemed to harbour a malevolence just waiting to be released he had already noted his exits and the way he would kill the mage should he be double crossed.

Minutes passed by that turned into an hour or so, until at last the mage nodded and said “It comes”.

Eleven eyes, paranoid beyond belief, having a taste for eating mortals and bristling with deadly magic the beholder appeared in a flash of planar magic, the room instantly filled with the stench of wet meat and burned air.
Many cold eyes flicked around the room, two sets locking onto Vince, causing even his calm outward demeanour to chill slightly.
The mage did not stir in the least, but merely inclined his head in greeting.

“Your next task is a sorcerer, he lives in the hovel you call Dragons Watch. You will find him eating alone, with this symbol on his hand”. With that a flash of light struck Vince and he winced as the Beholder Mother forced the image into his head. “You will leave the mark behind again, do not fail me human”.

The wash of planar magic struck Vince again and as his vision rapidly cleared the beholder was gone.

The mage turned to him and said, “You have the eye I gave you? I will take it now and you will use another”.

Vince handed over the blinking Gauth eye to the mage it’s not quite dead stare taking in everything it saw.

“There was another like the Hive Mother, I used the eye to look at it like you said I should. It said it knew Kykstyks, it said she was weak” Vince said taking another wet staring eye and putting it in the pouch he was given.

“I know, I was watching. The beholder is wrong; I can assure you Kykstyks is anything but weak. Here, a trinket for your trouble, report at the same place when you are done. And find out about the other you talked about, the other shadow stepper. I may have a word with him”.
The mage rose in a swift motion, turned towards the wall and disappeared in a bright flash of light through a portal where Vince was sure he could hear cries for help.

Shrugging and picking up the blade left behind by the mage, he swung it loosely in the air feeling it’s perfect balance and almost sentient feel. His next contract set, he wondered if this would be the blade to complete the job, or whether more tact would be needed given the location.


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Rodgr Thunderguts
4:19:22 am GMT 10/08/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
The thing with being good at what you do is people expect you to be able to do everything and anything.

Vince found himself in this exact position. He was good at what he did, very good in fact. His outward demeanor was polite and often friendly though when it came to business there were no games, just results.

This was different. this wizard had contacted him again as normal, though this time, there was no beholder to meet him.

He was given a mirror of polished metal and a small magical quill with magical parchment to go with it. He was told to meet with a woman he would never forget though to never look at her directly, hence the mirror.

His next instructions were clear, he was told that whoever read the words on the parchment written by them quill would succumb to whatever was written. His instructions were to find the darkened elf and make her read the words "Your heart stops beating". Simple under normal circumstances though for the first time since Grax had been killed he thought to himself "No".

He met with the woman, a fearsome creature who made him sweat uncomfortably, a head of writhing snakes and a penchant for human flesh and said to her "Anyone, but this one."

A blinding flash of pain struck him and he thought he would finally pay his debt to Shar or whoever claimed his soul or what was left of it, but he was still alive when he came to though barely. With all the sense he could summon he found a Raven and sent it to the dark skinned witch telling her " I was given a contract, but I refused". he hoped it would be enough.


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Rodgr Thunderguts
8:15:58 pm GMT 11/23/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
They met at the gamblers den in Steinkres as arranged. Vince looked nondescript as usual, a grey man in a crowd as did the other he met, who went by Karl, which was clearly not his name.

Karl nodded to Vince and they sat at a dice table, the deaf dealer as was often the case in this establishment to provide privacy for the patrons, handed cups to them both.

Vince placed some gold down, rolled the dice and got a crown, two skulls and an axe, not a bad roll, Karl beat it with three Crowns and an axe.

"The mark is here?" asked Karl, not even looking around the room. Vince responded with a barely perceptible gesture indicating it was an elf in blue robes.

Karl rolled the dice saying. "Odd they would send us both, she must be important", four axes landed face up, that would be hard to beat.

A small nod and a drink of the free beverages on hand, Vince rolled two crowns, an axe and a skull, he watched another pile of gold go to the dealer.

The den was busy, many of the patrons avoiding the taxes the Town charged on everything. The slender elf rose nodded to the table she was at and left to a curtained area. The cups were placed down and a marker put next to them to show they would return. The two clippers left like shadows to the curtained area, where they were told they would need to be to get the mark.

The area behind the curtain was dark, very dark, the shadow blood coursing through Vince's veins made little heed of such an inconvenience and before Karl could question where the elf had gone a blade pierced through his chest from between his shoulders, his eyes wide in shock his hands already lifeless. Vince whispered "You do not betray the code, there are no warnings". Karl dropped to the ground where he would be cleaned up by the elf in blue, who appeared from the shadows. Nodding they went their separate ways, unlikely to see each other again.

On his way back to his chambers, he was approached by a young woman, who handed a coin to him with "IC" etched on it, she didn't say anything, just curtsied and left.

Intrigued he pocketed the coin and walked through the woods on the way to his modest accommodations, this was an interesting turn of events indeed.
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Kat
2:42:15 am GMT 11/29/19
Kat Registered Member #25300 Joined: 6:37:11 am GMT 06/04/19
Posts: 122
Xulinn looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye, one red stained hand holding a pair of long black gloves. She turned and looked over her shoulder as she did so; the layers of black silk in her dress rustling, her hair swept up into the usual knot but adorned this time with a gem encrusted needle. It would do, appropriate to her position, appropriate to her purpose, the gloves deftly slipped on. Her hand moved to her waist, feeling for the item secreted there, satisfied she dismissed her new maid, her lips curling as she glanced at the harp in the corner of the room, remembering in an instant her previous maids’ recent demise.

She caught up with the Inquisitor outside the venue. She was dressed quite magnificently, although her discomfort in her ball gown, somewhat obvious. Compliments were exchanged.
Outdone, but that was the intent.

House Moulenvair had spared no expense; their estate offered all manner of entertainment and delights to satisfy all tastes. Drinks were taken and introductions made. Aldorian seemed to determined to be on his worst behaviour. Skirting so close to the edge of acceptable behaviour was risky and she noted his actions with interest.
She watched the one named Ra’xor ,a Voldur, consume some vile concoction before turning to observe the other, a quiet man, he’d made an effort she could see. His clothes suitable to the occasion but not such that he’d stand out, in fact quite the opposite. His eyes travelled around the room drinking in the new surroundings, her eyes followed his and suddenly her attention peaked.. was it exits he was looking for? She watched him move, deft and light on his feet; she watched his image reflected in the mirror, until….. ah she was caught, surprised, she offered him a tight smile and looked away, annoyed.

The questions of offerings were raised, and to her surprise her companions offered blank looks. Had they not read the invitation, it was after all a charity ball. She offered an rare bottle from the family cellars of aged Morsus. Allowing herself a mere moment of smugness, Rasdovian breeding had once again proved its worth, she watched on as they extracted themselves from their faux pas.

The music beckoned in the distance, but still they were delayed, a deception, a question of rightful inheritance. The Inquisitor was of course engaged, the others mostly bystanders as they observed how the Iron City dealt with such things - efficiently.

The Bloodlight Ball, such grace and fluidity as the dancers moved over the floor. The rising heat, ensuring their steps were light and quick. Suddenly he appeared in front of her, she knew what he’d given his name as now, Vincent. “A four step I believe, a hand extended” She took the offered hand and they joined the others on the floor. She knew the steps well, courtesy once again from her mother’s insistence on social graces. He surprised her however as he deftly manoeuvred her away from the flames and other devilish delights and dangers, sure of step. Her hip bumped against a hidden blade, a slight smile crossed her lips. Her eyes traveled across the dance floor to where Melphaecto danced with Ra’xor, meeting her eyes she nodded, let the fun begin.
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Rodgr Thunderguts
4:37:45 am GMT 12/03/19
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
The message was relayed to him by an unknown carrier.

“V. You are invited to the Bloodlight Ball”.

Unusual as it was, the Iron City didn’t worry or scare Vince, so much as make him realise how short his life was destined to be in the mortal realms.

He approached the buildings entrance, the guards unaware of his presence despite their otherworldly sentience. Slipping through an entrance, he knew he could just as easily slip out of, he was surprised by the decor inside. Naively he had assumed it would be the gaudy dressage of the devil-kin and their ilk, with wanton lust and power shown at every opportunity, but he was wrong. House Moulenvair had spared no expense to satisfy the guests. The host a fascinating creature who belied beauty and malevolence all in one.

He noted a drunken elf immediately and thought perhaps he was a clever distraction more than an actual oaf, though based on the volume he drank, he could be wrong.

Scanning the estate for exits should he need one, he noticed a female, Xulinn, she proffered, or at least that is what others called her. Stunning as she was in her dress, though slightly less so than the host, perhaps by chance or perhaps by forethought. Vince noticed she was far more aware of her surroundings than she let on, a swift contact of the eyes, no matter how brief betraying each to their own. This was one to watch.

A gift was required at the ball, though no mention was made on his invite, he muttered a curse for not having seen the bait. He offered secrets or the eye of a live beholder, though fortunately, neither were needed due to the bravery or stupidity of another guest.

The ball began with strict rules and no uncertain danger. The music being oddly mesmerising, even with is training to blank his mind to such distractions, the devil playing the organ somehow could transfix the guests.

Choosing the lesser of evils , mainly to ensure his safety rather than from any moral cause he deftly asked the one called Xulinn to dance the dance of death that was “offered” to the guests to perform at the whimsy of otherworldly beasts. She moved like oil and water, fluidly and with grace he noticed. She also had a pleasant aroma and a calm demeanour, though the look in her eye made him all to acutely aware she would snuff his life's breath without a flinch. She was interesting for sure.

The Iron City was indeed a place he thought could offer work or at a minimum contracts, though he knew the cost was a mortal one and not financial should you fail.

Hoping the wards he had bought from the Beholder were enough, he silently muttered an oath he knew he would break to Shar and let the fun begin. This was an interesting place indeed.
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Rodgr Thunderguts
10:32:10 pm GMT 01/24/20
Rodgr Thunderguts Registered Member #1050 Joined: 7:35:50 am GMT 05/11/07
Posts: 350
A contract is a contract.

The ball was over. Vince was still not sure if he would ever be able to unsee some of the things he had seen and he was absolutely sure he would never forget them. The sheer chaos of the “devils dance floor” was something he was just glad he had survived, though looking back at it, something he kind of enjoyed, especially given the company and the lady’s ability to move with such grace as they danced.

Looking in through the window of the nobles house, he wondered if the fat buffoon would ever stop eating, tray upon tray of food being brought to the table. At odds with the scene was his good lady wife, Anyella or some such she called herself, some distant relative to the bailiff in Steinkres. Pretty to look at with a smile that would even calm an angry nun, slim and graceful with just the hint of crows feet at her eyes, she was able to make those laugh or listen to her every word, sadly she had no one to tell her how badly the fat noble treated her, not even the baliff. Vince knew right there looking at her there was a sadness beneath those eyes, the fat noble would never see, treating her like another trophy, like the heads hanging on the walls of his dining area, all hunted by someone else, though he was sure he boasted it was himself, he also knew that is why she had hired him.

Strange things had happened to Vince since the ball he thought as Anyella stood up to leave the room on queue. His skin would seem like mist on a breeze if he willed it, able to slip more unnoticed than he had ever before. Maybe his prayers and curses to Shar had paid off? Maybe he was just cursed by the winged devil at the ball, he knew not.

The window didn’t creak when it opened due to the dwarven oil used on the hinges, in fact, if you had dropped a feather on the floor, it would have been louder than his footfalls. Slurping some meat off a bone, the excessively fat noble, choked on a piece and cursed about to call for the butler, only when he opened his mouth the smallest amount of food was forced into the rosy cheeked mans mouth from unseen hands. It was coated in spiders venom so strong microscopic amounts were needed to give him heart failure. In fact it was almost instantaneous, only the sudden look of surprise the thing to give any indication something was wrong. Jamming the bone into his throat along with a good helping of meat, the shadow left the room, the latch dropping shut on the window, locking it from the inside and the noble, dead...from choking it seemed. Anyella would sleep well for the first time tonight he thought, hopping from rooftop to rooftop.

Open contract. Learning from a long time ago in his profession, take one contract complete it, divulge nothing. With his contract fulfilled, he needed some more venom and the woods near Hamley were the place to get it it seemed. Dangerous but worth it, he had been caught a few times but survived the ordeal and filled his bags with the lethal venom from the spiders fangs.

Breathing in the air as he left the cave, something was not right. The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he couldn’t figure out why. Time to leave, he knew that, only too late. A rustle like a small cat in a hedge, made his jaw slack as the biggest spider he had ever seen in his life (and probably in many others lives truth be told) appeared before him. Knowing he was dead before he could move he put his rapier away and was about to accept his fate when a blinding pain hit his head and images from the spider forced their way into his head, images of him being fed to what was clearly the brood queens offspring. Thinking rapidly, he offered a contract, he would do something for the queen in return for his life. He offered the bodies of his victims for food, but was met with a pain in his head and displeasure from the arachnid. Think quickly. Perhaps there would be something the queen wanted of him and there it was, the break in the web, or in his case the light at the end of the tunnel the queen wanted someone brought back to her for her own reasons, someone in Hamley who experimented on spiders it seemed.


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The bargain made, his life for that of another. The woods literally seemed to be following him as he left, small spiders skittering across his cloak as he walked and larger shadows moving all around, this was either going to go well, or would be his last contract he thought.

Moving in plain sight the dirty peasant in workers clothes attracted no one's attention through the village, not even when he slipped from the shadows in the building the spider had shown him in his mind. More sleeping poison dropped into the cook pot of the residence, he found his target engrossed in some research it seemed. Too engrossed to feel the slight change in the air in the room as a needle stuck into his neck sending him to sleep.


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He cared little for the man, he was a mark, simple as that. Wrapping him in a blanket covered in dirt, he yelled dinner was ready to distract the guards and made his escape as quickly as he could. The disguise held. Who cared for a peasant with a hood on muttering about dirty carpets?

The walk was long and his legs were trembling from the strain of carrying the load to the woods. This time he felt an ominous presence in the woods, a very uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Time to seal the deal. Dumping the trussed up man on the floor, with little care for his well being, he checked his pulse, alive as promised. Calling out and trying to focus his thoughts, the Queen appeared, majestic yet exuding pure power it seemed pleased he had fulfilled the bargain. His life for another. The Queen pushed thoughts into his head that she was satisfied, though she let it be plainly know she did not want to see him in her woods again. A bargain he thought he would uphold, he did offer the bodies of those he may stumble upon though and she seemed even dismissive of that. Time to leave.


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Smiling as he left the woods, the spiders falling from his cloak and the shadows moving a way, he heard a rising scream of a man, though it honestly sounded like a screaming animal by the time he left. smiling to himself the contract fulfilled. Time for another.


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