A word between killers
ᵛᵉʳʳ stopped dead in his tracks at the voice of the unknown killer, feeling the man’s eyes latching onto him despite his constant motion. He knew immediately they were trained eyes that belonged to a trained killer. “Hau,” he returned the greeting in a red savage manner, “Tal, sir.” A red savage man is without caste, and he was reminded of the full weight of the cities of men he called scabs on the face of the Gor.
Caith eyes assessed the man “Perhaps you could be of help.” he stated to the man “I was once told a story of an urt that wished to pass the street where many carts passed. The urt came to an end. The man sharing this story asked me to find the one telling it.” he said as to ensure that if he was facing the right one – he would know – that he himself was no imposter. “A bird with dark feathers told me while he had learned the story of a verr.”
ᵛᵉʳʳ pursed his lips and looked utterly dumbfounded. His practiced habit — one honed and fine-tuned over many seasons — continued and his awkward shuffles and stretches seemed to lull as the weight of the killer’s words sank in. His gaze passed about their surroundings and he pursed his lips out of routine habit when he thought deeply before speaking, “Tal, Killer. I am familiar with this story. It is a custom amongst the red men of the Barrens to gift a story to an honored friend. One might say a blood brother. I’m told in exchange a story was gifted upon the verr… a riddle describing Murder.” He assessed the man before him and he saw in this killer a reminder of an old, honored friend. “I just may be able to help you after all.”
Caith had ensured them to be alone as he didn’t wish to have some bystanders as he inclined his head “I was once given this story in hope to find the one sharing it to continue a legacy that might have come to an end when the man Crow would leave for his rest in the city of dust. I came with purpose to find the killer Verr and see that the ties that once were between my mentor and him to be restored. Perhaps join forces as in to better the caste. I know him and this killer to be of a same caliber and I am honoured to face a man if so.” he spoke humble and soft as to not have his voice carry far.
ᵛᵉʳʳ ahs, and then nodded with solemn expression to the Killer. “Then perhaps, as is my way, and my custom in the caste of the cities, I should call you brother and comrade,” he said matter of fact and in a quiet tone he felt would not carry to unwanted ears. He stepped into the shadows of the narrow alley, leaving his back to the wall. “Perhaps we can discuss these things in deeper shadow and where my savage dress won’t have the city’s Free Women choking on their veils from gasping at such barbaric culture?”
Caith smirks and nodded “I would be honoured to be called such.” he answers while he waved his hand in a gesture that he would follow him. “I have been roaming about but mostly in those hours they dare not venture out. I do not think I even met one of the ladies of this Port.” he left out that he had come with a woman called Joanna. He hadn’t met her since she set foot in this port. The last perhaps for the best.
ᵛᵉʳʳ dipped his head respectfully and gave his thanks, “Ashoge. Howo.. follow, please.” He would lead the killer to the heart of shadows, in Brundisium — the Black Court.
Caith had been in here a number of times even met one lad that wished to be tested. “Impressive build for such as the caste of assassins. I guess the people of brundisium pass might fear our caste to bestow us with such hmm …” he jested.
ᵛᵉʳʳ nodded in agreement, “It is a mystery to me, truth be told, Killer. I have not seen the likeness to it anywhere else in all my many years. Perhaps it stands as it does now, as it did when it was first built many seasons and perhaps a lifetime of men of the black caste long gone to the Cities of Dust?”
Caith nodded quietly “Perhaps … ” he answers in agreement “Crow told me that you might need help with trainees “Crow gave me the legacy of his guild the Sang Noir, which basicly says black blood.”
ᵛᵉʳʳ allowed himself in this environment a small and genuine smile. “Indeed. There is much work to do here in Brundisium Pass. Much of what my spies have uncovered is that there is some great unrest in the city of Brunidisium Proper. It would appear this man Djoran has significant investment in this section of the city that has been victimized by the will of the Merchant Council. I also understand this ship-builder is not without his own influence with this Council but what is unclear is his place in it. As it stands, the caste itself is disorganized and fragmented. Indeed there is much we can and should discuss.”
Caith nodded slowly “I learned of this, although I have not yet ventured to deep into it. I had some messages to deliver when word came that Crow was killed. But as it stands most are delivered and I would like to commit and see that his work will be continued. I can only hope that you wish me to do so. I would understand if you try to test me. No killer just goes on a word.” he reasons. Perhaps he hoped that the story would atleast give some of his credentials, but again he was a killer and didn’t fear the test that might be given to him.
ᵛᵉʳʳ seemed in that moment a very simple fellow and some might consider him even sloppy in his work, but that would only better serve him to keep others assuming that to be the case. “You wear the livery. You speak words known only to one man — The Killer Crow. And so you find yourself at odds with your own words, comrade. No Killer just goes on a word and yet you find yourself here, speaking to Verr, once of the caste in Ar in the time of Pa Kur… on what? The words of a Killer.” He often enjoyed such logical sparring with Crow, and he looked forward to carrying on that tradition with this man. “There are the Codes. There is gold and steel. But there are many things that far to many who wear the livery like to forget.” He grinned crookedly, a slight challenge revealed in his expression here in the shadows of the Black Court. “We, killer, can certainly do business,” he said with utmost confidence in his tone.
Caith grinned at the words given in counter “The words of a killer should be taken as the honour of him to be a man of caste. Those that only think the caste if for some bunch of killers with no mind clearly have no idea with whom they do business.” he replied. “Excellent, Killer. I am looking forward to that business and join forces so the caste is one that is respected for the right and not the wrong.” he stated confidently. “As you might have witnessed there is a seeker. I have him blindfolded.” he stated.
ᵛᵉʳʳ nods, “Han. Yes. The touch of your mentor didn’t go unnoticed either. As I recall he was fond of creating new and exciting ways of making The Wait an experience the lads would curse him for but thank him for much later. As I said, the caste here in this city is fragmented but I am of the mind that here, in this place more than any, tradition will carry on to those who will serve the caste when I have taken my final steps into the shadows and the Cities of Dust.”
Caith offered his arm in final “Then let us vow that the legacy does continue.” he stated with that sinister undertone that for others might look as if it was a pact of the devil itself even if it held the honour of a given word between two of the caste of Assassins.
ᵛᵉʳʳ pursed his lips and felt the weight of the other’s words. “So it is said, so it will be done. This I swear,” he said with little hesitation. He dipped his head low and touched his fingertips over his heart, then to his lips and to his forehead which was for a him a tradition passed to him by his mentor so long ago, and to the attentive it was a gesture found most often in the far south and the desert sands of the Tahari, and not unknown to the Killers of his earliest years amongst them.
ᵛᵉʳʳ clasped the man’s arm, when all was said.
Crows Murder 
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