[piosenniel]

They had come silently down the stairs, and now stood on the gangway. The Elf placed a restraining hand on Mithadan’s arm and pointed straight ahead, indicating the direction of the cabins. A small oil lamp cast its feeble light from the galley behind them. Their shadows wavered softly for a moment in its dim glow, then vanished, as she pulled him quickly into the darkness beyond its perimeter.

Left, two – doors one and four. Right, two – doors three and four.

She took the right, leaving him the left.

The first proved easy enough. No light shone from under the door. She opened it a crack, listening intently for any sounds. Only the quiet, regular breathing of someone deep in sleep came to her, punctuated by an occasional soft snore. She slipped inside the room and stood near the head of his bunk, watching him for a few moments.

He lay on his back, his arms flung over his head. A convenient position for a quick kill. She drew the stilettos from her arms, and crouching over him, plunged both, with the full force of her weight behind them, through his neck on either side, just below the angles of his jaw. His eyes opened in a wild stare and a small ‘O’ of surprise escaped him. A tremor ran through him. Then all was quiet and still as his lifeblood gushed from him. She wiped the slickness from her hands and knives on his coverlet, resheathed them, then slipped silently back to the hall.

The second room proved more difficult. She could hear him moving about as she put her hand to the handle. A sudden light flared from under the door. She pulled two throwing knives from her belt and flung open the door. He stood, sword in hand, transfixed for a brief second by the apparition that entered, but recovered quickly. His blade came up and he moved toward her with a feral look on his face.

‘An Elf!’ he hissed. ‘And mine for the killing!’

He lunged toward her, and she threw the knives at him, sinking both deep into his upper chest. It was enough to make him hesitate for a second from the pain, but then anger got the upper hand. He steadied himself and came at her, his blade swinging at her wildly. The tip caught her on the upper left arm, slashing her near the shoulder. She stepped back from him with a sharp intake of breath, and he lunged at her again, his blade swinging in a downward arc at her.

She drew out her two longer knives, and crossing them high before her, caught the down thrust of his blade between them. Deflecting it, but barely, she ducked beneath his blade and stepped up close to him. She could see the color of his eyes. Then the spark in them flickered and went out as she drove her knife upwards and to the left beneath his breastbone. He slumped to the floor, and she left him there.

Looking to find Mithadan, and offer her assistance as needed, she went back to the hall, listening intently for any sound of him.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]