"Lord Brocklaw, if you would be so kind as to come hither for but a moment?"
Across the semi-populated room, Simon Breckenridge heard his assumed name and character being beckoned and deftly made his way past the socialites and nobles scattered about the sitting room, coming to a halt in front of a rather petite elderly woman.
"Yes, your majesty?" Simon said as he bowed to her, voice dripping with honey and thinly veiled annoyance.
"We would like to congratulate you on your recent marriage, though it is quite a shame your young bride could not attend." The queen spoke in her excessively posh accent, the sign of her high status showing in ways beyond her bejeweled crown and entourage of lightly armored guards.
Oh how he despised these upper crust twits and their inbred superiority complexes, but no matter his hatred for them he was there for a far different reason.
"She sends her regards your majesty, along with a private letter she wanted me to give to you to look over in private." Simon said as he extracted the envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, hand brushing past his darts but refraining from lodging one in the old bats throat and handing the wax-sealed parchment envelope to the ancient woman.
"Oh now, what could be so important that we would have the need to read it in private?" The old hag queried as she popped the wax seal off, smiling up at him from her seat on the duvet.
The moment the seal was broken a spark was ignited and from that one spark came a veritable conflagration that exploded toward the near fossilized monarch, flash frying her in her seat and taking a handful of her guards with her. For the fifth time that day, Simon cursed his poor luck and for what felt like the hundredth cursed that bloody magician for the mere sin of existing as he reflexively launched a dart from the sleeve of his coat into the neck of guard before in the same motion drawing his rapier and impaling the other still living guard through the chest.
Swearing under his breath in every language he knew and several he didn't, Simon proceeded to slice through the dozen or so nobles and miscellaneous upper crust socialites that had witnessed his blatant murder of royalty, dodging and weaving through numerous strikes from all sides as he tossed darts from inside his jacket into the throats of several screaming young women whilst parrying away the blades of their husbands and suitors.
"Confounded foolish old bat," Simon muttered as he went about the room plucking his darts from their homes in the throats of those he had slain whilst on his little tirade.
Once his armory had been reacquired he marched steadily up the stairs to the rooftop of the building. Upon his arrival he went swiftly to the edge of the roof and promptly tossed himself off. Instead of the painful splat upon the roadside most would expect from such a blatant suicide attempt Simon felt himself land in the familiar embrace of one of his partners in crime.
"A fine method of escape this time sunshine, now if you would kindly return me my wallet we can be off and to the house in two shakes of a lambs tail." The harsh man spoke, his accent blatant as his words partially slurred into the familiar voice of Jaeger.
"As you wish you sauerkraut munching degenerate." Simon sniped as he climbed out of his associate's arms and steadied himself on the ground, only for Jaeger to push him over as he found his footing and land him in a puddle of sewage.
"That joke is getting old you tea silt, just like you are." Spat the younger man as he dusted off his hands and stuffed them back into his pockets.
"So, what have you been busying yourself with?" Simon asked as he stripped away the now soiled clothes he wore to reveal common clothes.
"Well," Jaeger drawled as he tossed a canvas duffel to the Englishman, "I ran into a few strapping young men and had myself a bit of fun. I even made a few shillings while I was at it."
"You jumped some upper class twits and stole their coin purses, lovely. Do you happen to have any hobbies beyond theft and attempted murder? Maybe something like knitting or even solitaire perhaps?" Simon muttered underneath his breath as he stuffed the ruined clothes into the bag.
"Not really," Jaeger said as he began walking out of the alley to the busy street beyond, "Now let us go. The others are waiting for the report."
"By the by," Jaeger said, turning his head back quizzically, "What was the body count for this one?"
"Counting the old bat? 32." Simon said, his face drawn tight as though he'd bitten into a lemon.
