His feet fell on the wet stones silently as he floated along the
darkened street. To his right was a chasm filled with water that served as
a swimming road to the lizard like creatures whom inhabited this city. His
hood was pulled low over his face to hide it from view, and he had stolen a
rug hanging on a line, which he now wore as a cape. He used the sheathe of
a sword to protrude behind him, forcing the cape out as if he had a tail.
He moved swiftly and silently down the street, his head lowered and
slightly turning from side to side. The city had obviously been involved
in some large battle that had nearly destroyed it. Great chunks of stone
were still missing from portions of its walls and a few buildings. Many
buildings had been repaired. The repairs were obvious; the materials used
to patch them were not the same color or as dirty as the original materials
of the building.
Finally he saw what he was looking for: a small area with several buildings and a few tents that served as the marketplace of the town. As he made his way towards it, the number of lizard creatures (Iksar the girl had called them) began to increase. His eyes fell on a stand selling what appeared to be some sort of fruit. To its side was another stand selling fine jewelry. He made his way to the stand selling fine jewelry. As he approached, the man standing behind it began excitedly pointing at different items on the table and exclaiming something in a language he could not understand. The table was draped with a cloth that was clearly to large for it, causing the cloth to drape on the ground.
His gloved hand left his robe and pointed at a ring locked in a small glass case. The ring was obviously the most expensive item on the table. The constant chattering of the merchant suddenly stopped. He stared at the mysterious stranger (whom he believed was a fellow Iksar) with hesitation. Slowly he produced a key and unlocked the box. He removed the ring and passed it into the hand of the cloaked stranger. The stranger slowly turned in the ring in his fingers. The ring once had a gold coating over the top of it, much of which was now scraped away. Beneath the coating, an odd black rock gleamed. He has seen this black rock in the past, and knew from whence it came. Its front held an obviously ornate jewel that's color seemed to change from red to blue depending on how you were looking at it. He held the jewel up to the light of the torch over the fruit stand in the guise of studying the gem while he actually carefully surveyed the fruits. Other Iksar began to gather and marvel at the beauty of the jewel of the ring. He made a motion to return the ring to its owner. As the owners hand also reached for the ring, he released the ring too early, causing it to fall. The ring fell from their hands and hit the ground, rolling under the table.
Immediately everyone in the area dove for the table. The merchant let out a short yell and was instantly under the stand trying to fight off all the other hands for the ring. No one had noticed that the ring he had actually slipped down the side of the stranger's boot. The stranger for a moment bent down as if to also reach for it. No one noticed as his other hand quickly grabbed a couple of the strange fruits and tucked them into his sleeve. As the fighting over the ring continued, he leaned against the fruit stand. Slowly and carefully as to not attract attention he slid a few more items into his sleeve.
He stood watching the pandemonium of the lizards struggling with and hissing at each other. Several well-armored guards approached and began to drag the lizards out of the teeming clump one by one. Many had open wounds from the others claws. The stranger did not notice the robed figure across the market square staring at him throughout the ordeal. The stranger turned and walked slowly and calmly away. In a few moments, he had slipped into an alleyway and was totally out of sight of the market. He made his way through a maze of alleys intertwining between the stone abodes and emerged into a large street. Down not far away were the two paths that led to the gate. Before he had made it but a few steps down the road, a voice behind him caused him to stop.
"None of my people are thieves," came a raspy reptilian voice. "What are you, insolent?" The stranger turned slowly, to see a relatively tall Iksar, garbed in a rich and thick maroon robe. His face showed no emotion (even for an Iksar), and his eyes seemed to be staring straight at the stranger, probing into the darkness of the hood. The stranger stepped towards him and pulled his hood back, revealing the face of a human. For a seemingly long moment, their eyes met. The iksar could not understand what it was that he saw in the stranger's eyes. It was long ago that he had mastered both his mind and his body, and sworn himself to the Lord of Terror. In his long life of two hundred and four years, he had seen what he believed was everything one could see. Not only had he seen it, but also he understood its meaning and purpose. He had come to learn that every action, every thought, and every decision was a direct result of fear. It was fear that warned you which course of action was the safest, and thereby determined which action you chose. It was for lack of fear that many did foolish thing and perished. Fear held the true power over the soul. Terror was simply an embellished form of fear that could be used to force an individual down a specific path. Terror then held true power.
However, as he stared into the eyes of the human before him, he felt something within himself stir he had never known before. The look in human's eyes held neither fear, nor confidence in its place. They were both relaxed and ready. They were curious, and at the same time understood. The human bowed his head and closed his eyes after a moment, as if to bid him farewell. With that he turned and began to walk away.
"Are you so arrogant, human, spawn of the north men filth, that you may pass through our realm unharmed? Or perhaps you believe we are a weak people," the Iksar said to him, causing him to stop and turn slightly to look back at the monk of Cazic Thule.
"I'm far from a religious fanatic, or being naive, chief. However," for a moment his gaze lifted to the sky and scanned the clouds slowly as if expecting something. "However, I do believe there is an eye in the sky watching me carefully this day." At this the monk scowled. "So Tunare has monks dedicating themselves to her now, does she? Pathetic whelps," he thought. But even as these thoughts finished crossing his mind, his eyes caught sight of the human's, who was once again staring at him. Something in them rattled him. His scowl faded into a curious look, as he remembered that monks do not steal.
Suddenly a guard patrolling the street caught sight of the human. He yelled out something alerting several other guards. The human's head whipped around and appraised the situation. Suddenly he was off with alarming speed towards the gate. The Iksar guardsmen had no hope of catching him, but the gate guards had heard the alarm and five of them were now blocking the human's escape path. Suddenly two of them fell as if struck by a huge fist. The monk stared in disbelief. Surely no god would favor this thief enough to grand such a blatant boon to him. The remaining two guards seemed surprised but not shaken. The human, still many yards to them, produced a dagger out of one of his loose sleeves. In a moment he had thrown the dagger into the forehead of one of the guards. The other had taken off sprinting at him, but was struck down by the invisible fist half way to him. The human sped through the gate and was lost into the swamp beyond.
The monk approached the nearest body that had been stricken down by the unknown force. He immediately recognized what had killed them. The other guards, panting loudly, now arrived as well. Their eyes beheld the guard lying on his back with the small sleek shaft of a crossbow bolt perfectly shot between his eyes into the cross section in his helmet that had allowed him to see.
"Eye in the sky indeed!" huffed the monk. He turned to return to his duties in the city, and took one last look over his shoulder at the gate. Slowly his eyes turned to the skyline of the city, and the great wall surrounding it. "Eye in the sky indeed." he repeated to himself.
Finally he saw what he was looking for: a small area with several buildings and a few tents that served as the marketplace of the town. As he made his way towards it, the number of lizard creatures (Iksar the girl had called them) began to increase. His eyes fell on a stand selling what appeared to be some sort of fruit. To its side was another stand selling fine jewelry. He made his way to the stand selling fine jewelry. As he approached, the man standing behind it began excitedly pointing at different items on the table and exclaiming something in a language he could not understand. The table was draped with a cloth that was clearly to large for it, causing the cloth to drape on the ground.
His gloved hand left his robe and pointed at a ring locked in a small glass case. The ring was obviously the most expensive item on the table. The constant chattering of the merchant suddenly stopped. He stared at the mysterious stranger (whom he believed was a fellow Iksar) with hesitation. Slowly he produced a key and unlocked the box. He removed the ring and passed it into the hand of the cloaked stranger. The stranger slowly turned in the ring in his fingers. The ring once had a gold coating over the top of it, much of which was now scraped away. Beneath the coating, an odd black rock gleamed. He has seen this black rock in the past, and knew from whence it came. Its front held an obviously ornate jewel that's color seemed to change from red to blue depending on how you were looking at it. He held the jewel up to the light of the torch over the fruit stand in the guise of studying the gem while he actually carefully surveyed the fruits. Other Iksar began to gather and marvel at the beauty of the jewel of the ring. He made a motion to return the ring to its owner. As the owners hand also reached for the ring, he released the ring too early, causing it to fall. The ring fell from their hands and hit the ground, rolling under the table.
Immediately everyone in the area dove for the table. The merchant let out a short yell and was instantly under the stand trying to fight off all the other hands for the ring. No one had noticed that the ring he had actually slipped down the side of the stranger's boot. The stranger for a moment bent down as if to also reach for it. No one noticed as his other hand quickly grabbed a couple of the strange fruits and tucked them into his sleeve. As the fighting over the ring continued, he leaned against the fruit stand. Slowly and carefully as to not attract attention he slid a few more items into his sleeve.
He stood watching the pandemonium of the lizards struggling with and hissing at each other. Several well-armored guards approached and began to drag the lizards out of the teeming clump one by one. Many had open wounds from the others claws. The stranger did not notice the robed figure across the market square staring at him throughout the ordeal. The stranger turned and walked slowly and calmly away. In a few moments, he had slipped into an alleyway and was totally out of sight of the market. He made his way through a maze of alleys intertwining between the stone abodes and emerged into a large street. Down not far away were the two paths that led to the gate. Before he had made it but a few steps down the road, a voice behind him caused him to stop.
"None of my people are thieves," came a raspy reptilian voice. "What are you, insolent?" The stranger turned slowly, to see a relatively tall Iksar, garbed in a rich and thick maroon robe. His face showed no emotion (even for an Iksar), and his eyes seemed to be staring straight at the stranger, probing into the darkness of the hood. The stranger stepped towards him and pulled his hood back, revealing the face of a human. For a seemingly long moment, their eyes met. The iksar could not understand what it was that he saw in the stranger's eyes. It was long ago that he had mastered both his mind and his body, and sworn himself to the Lord of Terror. In his long life of two hundred and four years, he had seen what he believed was everything one could see. Not only had he seen it, but also he understood its meaning and purpose. He had come to learn that every action, every thought, and every decision was a direct result of fear. It was fear that warned you which course of action was the safest, and thereby determined which action you chose. It was for lack of fear that many did foolish thing and perished. Fear held the true power over the soul. Terror was simply an embellished form of fear that could be used to force an individual down a specific path. Terror then held true power.
However, as he stared into the eyes of the human before him, he felt something within himself stir he had never known before. The look in human's eyes held neither fear, nor confidence in its place. They were both relaxed and ready. They were curious, and at the same time understood. The human bowed his head and closed his eyes after a moment, as if to bid him farewell. With that he turned and began to walk away.
"Are you so arrogant, human, spawn of the north men filth, that you may pass through our realm unharmed? Or perhaps you believe we are a weak people," the Iksar said to him, causing him to stop and turn slightly to look back at the monk of Cazic Thule.
"I'm far from a religious fanatic, or being naive, chief. However," for a moment his gaze lifted to the sky and scanned the clouds slowly as if expecting something. "However, I do believe there is an eye in the sky watching me carefully this day." At this the monk scowled. "So Tunare has monks dedicating themselves to her now, does she? Pathetic whelps," he thought. But even as these thoughts finished crossing his mind, his eyes caught sight of the human's, who was once again staring at him. Something in them rattled him. His scowl faded into a curious look, as he remembered that monks do not steal.
Suddenly a guard patrolling the street caught sight of the human. He yelled out something alerting several other guards. The human's head whipped around and appraised the situation. Suddenly he was off with alarming speed towards the gate. The Iksar guardsmen had no hope of catching him, but the gate guards had heard the alarm and five of them were now blocking the human's escape path. Suddenly two of them fell as if struck by a huge fist. The monk stared in disbelief. Surely no god would favor this thief enough to grand such a blatant boon to him. The remaining two guards seemed surprised but not shaken. The human, still many yards to them, produced a dagger out of one of his loose sleeves. In a moment he had thrown the dagger into the forehead of one of the guards. The other had taken off sprinting at him, but was struck down by the invisible fist half way to him. The human sped through the gate and was lost into the swamp beyond.
The monk approached the nearest body that had been stricken down by the unknown force. He immediately recognized what had killed them. The other guards, panting loudly, now arrived as well. Their eyes beheld the guard lying on his back with the small sleek shaft of a crossbow bolt perfectly shot between his eyes into the cross section in his helmet that had allowed him to see.
"Eye in the sky indeed!" huffed the monk. He turned to return to his duties in the city, and took one last look over his shoulder at the gate. Slowly his eyes turned to the skyline of the city, and the great wall surrounding it. "Eye in the sky indeed." he repeated to himself.