Chapter Two
"I Swears Skull, if ye don't stop ye blather right now, I'm going ta kick ye so far, ye'll fall off the spire, ye will!" Annah howled at the floating skull at her side, also known as Morte. They had only recently returned to Sigil and she couldn't stop feeling the same ache over and over in her heart, like maybe there was something more she could have done, something she overlooked or missed that could have saved Him from what happened, anything she could have done other than watch stupidly as the only man she ever loved was whisked away to the deepest and foulest place in the multiverse. Her dark red hair fell down from her head and her tight leather outfit portrayed herself in a very seductive and alluring manner, but most men knew better than to come courting or they would soon feel the sting of her punch blades.
"C'mon fiendling, I'm not asking for much, just the occasional bit of love for a cutter who's in sore need right now. Were all sad right now, but you have the power to put a smile on a face, and all it would cost you is the price of a whore" Morte said, clacking his teeth together. Despite having no body, Morte was still one of the best fighters she had ever seen. With his teeth, he's been able to kill demons, people, and shadows, but only being a skull, he possessed the one thing she would have traded all his combat abilities for, the ability to shut up.
"Ye ain't got a face to smile, ye piking skull! Stop rattling your bone box and remember, we need this jink to pay to find him" Annah spoke, patting a small pouch on her side filled with coin. Upon her return to Sigil, the city of doors, she sold off all of her father's collection of things. All his books, all his knick knacks, everything, all for the sake of buying information, all in reference to find their lost leader. They were in the smoldering corpse bar, a name chosen for one of their previous companions who later betrayed them, Ignus. Without him, the name was a mere oddity to all new comers. They sat at a small table they reserved every day to buy and trade information and so far all they could ascertain was this, he no longer was in Sigil, or any plane that was hospitable for that matter. He was forced to reside in the lower hells, fighting in a damnable spectacle known as the blood wars, the fight between the lawful devils and the chaotic ones.
"Query: Annah, why do we wait for our leader in this plane when he has relocated to the lower planes?" spoke the sexless voice of Nordom, the rogue Modron. Annah almost regretted bringing the Modron along, he was intently curious on anything he didn't understand and sought to correct himself of such things, and with himself being freshly rogue, there was a lot he didn't understand about the multiverse, and she was by far not the right person to ask. If only Dakkon had stayed with them and not returned to his people, or even the Succubus so she could pawn off the responsibility of leadership to them, but it was unfortunate that both had disappeared, leaving her all alone to handle the rag tag team of misfits.
"Look you stupid Polygon, I was talking with Annah first, you can ask about the chief later because right now, I'm trying to make the wait for him a little more tolerable, eh?" Morte spoke, eyeing the hooker at the corner of the bar with a lusty look in his eyes. What he would do with her if he had her, Annah didn't want to know, but she for sure wasn't going to let him spend her money to get his head polished by some two bit harlot when that money could get them closer to their goal.
"I swear to the powers, if ye both don't give me a moment's peace…" she began to threaten when a dark robed man stepped forward. His face was tinted dark from a tan and his hands were completely wrapped in bandages like he were a burn victim. He was wiry and tall, and had a look of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her, licking his lips hungrily, as if to eat her up.
"Ye got business with me berk? Otherwise ye best shove off" Annah spoke, showing her usual street tough charm.
"Yes, I do indeed. I hear that Annah, Pharod's daughter, has inherited his vast fortune of wealth" he spoke deeply, filled with malicious intent. Fingering the punch daggers she kept close to her, Annah prepped herself to have to launch at the man in a moment's notice.
"Aye, that I have. What business is it of yours what I be doing with me coin?" she spoke cautiously. The man chuckled slightly and removed his hood to reveal his dark red hair.
"I have also heard your spending every last coin of it, looking for a scarred man that has fallen to the hells to fight in the blood wars" he spoke again.
"Aye again, now answer me this, whose business is it other than mine what I do with me coin?" she asked again.
"My name is Kasadin, and I have information on your scarred man" he spoke again.
"Yeah, you and every other two copper cretin in the hive. You got any proof or you blowing smoke up our arses?" Morte filled in, as descriptive as ever. Sometimes Morte's mouth wasn't all bad, it could piss people off enough to get them to act stupid and Annah could handle stupid people fast. It was the smart ones that scared her.
"You want proof? Here it is" he spoke, throwing a leather bound journal on the table. Annah's heart skipped a beat at the very sight of it, it was the same journal she always saw him scribbling away in, and oh how he loved to take his notes, keen on never forgetting a single thing that happened. Once she had even asked how he could keep such a burdensome thing and all he told her was it was to protect all their experiences together should he forget, and he didn't want to ever forget.
"Where…Where did ye find this?" Annah asked, reverently touching the surface of the book like it were the most precious object in the mutliverse to her now.
"That's not how it works. You do what I need and I give you what I know. All I want is a service from a friend of yours and I'll tell you everything I found out. Agreed?" he spoke seriously. Annah would have agreed to handing him the worlds now for all she cared, all that mattered to her now was to know what this man had in his mind.
"What ye be wanting then?" she asked quietly. He smiled and leaned in close, the scent of brimstone suddenly thick about him as his eyes flared in anger.
"I was separated from my family decades ago. I was to aid my great grandfather in the hells and prove I was worthy to be by his side, and my only task was to grab my bastard sister, a wee little babe from some backwater plane. As I was on my way back, I was attacked by Githyanki, and they destroyed most of the escort. I threw away my sister to save my skin, but when I returned, my great grandfather was so furious with me, he banished me…ME! AND ALL BECAUSE OF SOME BRAT WITH A RAT TAIL!" he began to howl, catching the attention of almost every patron in the bar. The logic of what he spoke slowly dawned on Annah, but Nordom was the first to speak.
"Analysis complete: Probability of Kasadin and Annah blood relation, eighty five percent likely. Logical recourse, you are here to retrieve Annah to complete your assigned task. Odds of compliance, point one percent. Use of force, likely. This one will stop you" Nordom spoke, his Ocular snapping over his eyes as his three gear spirits began to work in unison, his two crossbows and Optix, the rogue gear spirit formed into his Ocular scope. Nordom may have been a barmy cube Annah always thought, but he was accurate and deadly with those crossbows of his, penning men in the dead book before they could even get within ten feet of them.
"Your half right Modron. I'm her brother, that's for sure, but I could care less about her now. I'm already banished and it wouldn't matter if I brought a hundred worthless fiend bloods to him now. All I want now is revenge, I want the Githyanki to suffer and die, to know what it's like to feel agony like none ever before" he spoke, his words calming down and the smell of brimstone fading with his rage. Annah was at a loss for words, this man, this being filled with such rage and anger was her kin? He was a tiefling, that she had no doubt, but actual brother and sister?
"Ye say you're my kin, aye? What proof do ye have?" she asked. Kasadin sneered.
"I don't care what you believe or not. If it helps you sleep better at night, you can think I'm you're great uncle twice dead for all I care, I just want my revenge, so will you help me or not?" he growled, hands already inching toward the journal again. Slamming her punch daggers down on the table before his hand could even get close, she pulled the book close to her.
"Aye, we'll help ye. What have ye got in mind?" she asked, clutching the book as if it were her heart. Smiling, Kasadin relaxed visibly.
"I need the Zerth Dakkon and his Karrach blade to strike down one person, that's all" he spoke and sat at the table.
"Aye, who be the person needing to be penned in the dead book?" she asked, wondering already how she was going to convince the recently freed Githzerai to once again help them.
"I want him to kill Gith" he spoke, his words sliding off his tongue like a serpents. At the mention of Gith, Morte's eyes rolled back in his head.
"Whoa, hold on there you barmy fool! That's the Queen of the Githyanki, and no one even knows if she's dead or not anymore. We can't kill a legend were not even sure is alive or dead!" Morte almost screamed. Nordom nodded his head in agreement.
"Analysis of Kasadin's request. Odds of success, point zero zero zero one percent. Recommended course of action, redefined objective" Nordom spouted, his crossbows twanging in response in rapid succession, as if they were talking to each other.
"You killed a legend before" he spoke wickedly, causing Annah to fly over the table and level her punch daggers at his throat, drawing a single drop of bright red blood.
"Don't ye say another word bout him or I'll gut ye so fast you'll be shaking hands with your great grand pappy before ye can spit!" she hissed out with such ferocity she made even Morte stop for a second. Yet, Kasadin still smiled wickedly.
"Very well, but do we have a deal sister?" he asked, emphasizing the word sister. Slowly withdrawing her punch daggers from his throat, she flicked her tail in deadly irritation.
"Aye, we do, but don't ye ever be callin us Kin again, ya hear me?" she asked him, to which he gave a small rising laugh.
"Whatever you say…Annah".
