[Suzerain of Sheol]

She'd always known it would come to this, in the back of her mind at least. Heroics and camaraderie would never be her style, and she'd given it a really solid try at least. Strictly speaking, only the grace of Lyssa had kept her from shooting up that Gods-damned guild hall on any number of occasions, let alone putting a merciful bullet in the back of that do-gooding simpleton Syrgei's stupid head.

...sidetracked, where was she? Right, no more guild, no more well-meaning idiots trying to bring her out of her shell, no more fake smiles and drinking herself unconscious every night just to cope with the frustration of having to deal with her fellow humans. And prissy plants. And illiterate cats. And self-righteous rabbits. Ugh.

But no, this was so much better. Working alone, taking contracts for espionage and intrigue from the nobility, playing them against each other, occasionally offing them if the price was right. None of the others would approve, of course; this was hardly in the best interest of the city, but... Tsaerri couldn't exactly see how that was her problem. If not her, someone else would do the job (but not as well, obviously), and besides, give her an hour and a knife with any of them, and she'd come up with a hundred reasons why they deserve it.

Anyway. This particular assignment had come through an anonymous mediator and was of the murder variety. Not that either of those things were particularly unusual, but short of taking out the Queen, she could scarcely have chosen a more outrageous target for a public assassination. The fee, of course, was equally outrageous.

She was to infiltrate the Détente summit being held at Beetlestone Manor and eliminate Demmi Beetlestone herself, daughter of the Legate Minister Caudecus himself. And not only that, but her client wanted to send a message here. Tsae was to make the execution spectacular.

Which... wasn't exactly her style, being honest with herself. She'd killed enough people and not-quite-people at this point that it had become almost normal, but butchering a young girl whose only presumed crime was to be caught in the crossfire between an influential lord and his enemies just wasn't sitting that well with her. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to go through with it, mostly counting on self-preservation to kick in once the consequences of not carrying it out became suitably uncomfortable.

So here she was, affecting the haughty socialite on her way to meet the who's-who of Kryta. Hair pinned up in the gaudy style popular with all the ladies at court, check. Three pounds of makeup that felt like it was slowly paralyzing her face, also check. Ridiculous dress that somehow managed to be both luridly pretentious and make her look like an overdressed whore, definitely check, the noblemen liked their women that way, didn't you know? And worst of all, these Lys-cursed constriction vices on her feet. Whatever sadist invented heels in some bygone age, Tsae would love to take her tactical boots and stomp on his face. Not enough to kill him, just to get the point across.

Thus, to recap: charm her way inside with the assistance of a forged invitation, somehow pretend that she doesn't hate literally everyone there, identify Demmi and make a Gods-damned monument out of her corpse. Oh, and then escape without anyone the wiser. Totally doable.

She'd be lucky if she even got in the door.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

So the Guild hadn't worked out. He supposed it wasn't crucial. Guilds were popping up all over the place, and more were hanging on by one cuttings worth of their nails than were succeeding. All it really meant for him was a different bed to sleep in, the odd time he was in the city to actually use one.

The Guild folded, it's leader off to pursue grander adventures than could be had in a shiny hall, and Syrgei had been exploring more of Kryta and what was outside of it, which was why it felt more than unusual to him to be standing about in a predominantly human crowd, dressed up in high class attire with a thin and ornate rapier on his belt rather than his customary daggers, and not much further than a day's jog home.

Syrgei thumbed the suit cuffs through through his gloves. Weeks in the jungle and I feel stuffy in this thing. Silk and fine linen, probably, vest and cuffs delicately brocaded with silvered thread. Borrowing a suit his size was proving awkward at best, but there was apparently no shortage of tailors where the nobility were to be found, and in ill-fitting suit was not tolerable at a such a party, nor was an an armoured long coat, so said lady Anise. who took it upon herself to look after the details of this particular job.

At least it's blue.

This “particular job” was less a job and more a favour. Any threat of any kind to the security of Kryta and it's queen was met with equal seriousness by one Logan Thackeray, Captain of the Seraph Guard. This was just an inkling of a threat, but it was good enough. It seems Minister Caudacus had gained Logan's suspicions, and that of a few others. Just why, Syrgei wasn't particularly sure, but the Seraph as a whole were never very good at maintaining a low profile. That was why Syrgei was here: come to the party, mingle, and -in a word- snoop. So, while Logan stood about doing a wonderful job of not blending in, Syrgei scanned the crowd for obvious onlookers before stepping in neatly with a group of nobles just passing the manor entrance.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

She had to admit, the butler was remarkably professional. Not a single lascivious, sidelong glance her way. Not even a “My, you're looking simply lovely this afternoon, Lady Mir.” Maybe his sword was sharpened on the other edge. Or maybe you didn't get to host the most important party in Kryta without being an impervious stone wall of decorum and infinite patience.

Why the hell was she thinking about this?

Oh, right. So I don't have to think about what I'm here to do.

Damn it.

It wasn't actually as crowded as she'd thought it would be, or the guests were spread throughout the manor. The courtyard was filled mostly with the Minister's servants offering the incoming guests... “sausages-in-blankets”, because Lys forbid you call it a Gods-damned hot dog. Frankly, that seemed a bizarre choice of refreshment for a crowd like this. Maybe it was a Charr thing. Tsae politely declined.

Well, as politely as she could.

Just as she was done shooing away the insistent server, she nearly bumped face-first into a looming, heavily-armored figure ahead of her.

“Oh! And who is this? I don't believe we met.”

Oh my goddessssss!!!! It's Logan! It's Logan Thackeray! Oh, be still my heart! Do you think he'd ever be interested in someone like me? Oh, hold me, I might just swoon!

...did I say swoon? I meant vomit. That's the word. Just get the hell out of my way and let me get to my murder.

“Oh, *ahem*, Lady Mir, my lord, from Ebonhawke. My dear father could not attend, I fear, but I am simply so honored to attend in his stead.” Tsae gave him her most dainty curtsy... which was horribly uncomfortable, all things considered, but this was the absolute last place to put her cover in jeopardy.

“Dwayna! You must live near the front lines! Come, please, I have to introduce you to Jennah. Er, I mean Her Majesty.”

Tsae felt his gloved hand close over her bicep and had to sift through a dozen reactions that involved an inappropriate amount of violence before settling on demurely accepting his patronizing grip.

Wait. Wait, think damn it! Is she a mesmer? I think she is. And me without my blindfold. Um... um....

“Oh, oh my lord, you must forgive me, I feel a faintness suddenly upon me. The sun, I fear. Father always tells me I'm a fragile creature.”

That sure stopped him in his tracks. “We must get you inside, then! Ho! You there! Assist the Lady Mir inside and see that she's made comfortable.”

Lys take me, that was close. I bet she's powerful, too. Probably would have seen right through me.

Escorted by another impersonification, Tsae found herself in a quiet solar on the ground floor, blissfully away from the other guests once she convinced the servant that she'd be fine.

This place is crawling with Seraph. Of course it is.

But, nine-hundred gold.

It'll be worth it. Just don't mess up.

Kicking off those infernal shoes, Tsae set off to hunt the manor for her target.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Syrgei began with looking about the ground floor. It was easier to pass off accidental discovery as admiring the home without being too deep inside it, and windows made better exits when one was on the way out anyway. He was examining sheaves of papers in what looked to be a study when he heard sounds of new movement and murmured niceties in the main foyer before at least one pair of footsteps had left.

Perhaps it's time to move upstairs after all.

The papers in the study yielding nothing suspicious, or at least what Syrgei would have considered suspicious as far as he was able to tell. Document drafts, impersonal letters, fairly generic items to find in a work place given what the Minster was generally said to be up to. Anything the Minister may have wanted to keep close to his chest was elsewhere.

The stairs were long, many, and thankfully well carpeted. It was certainly easier to move about quietly without his customary armour on, but he also felt somewhat vulnerable without it. This was Kryta though, and he wasn't being shot at by angry tree-frogs with eyes the size of his head, so it could have been worse.

He was beginning to think that the minster liked inclines and uneven ceilings just for the sake of it. Not necessarily an oddity given the man had a floating rock garden in the likeness of his own head. After traversing up -and slightly down- several more flights he located several unoccupied bedrooms, and one very large suite. Master bedroom.

Syrgei heard further footsteps, wandering about the floor below.

Someone else is as curious as me, it sounds like...or a servant ran out of sausages.

He paused a moment to make sure no one was coming up the stairs, as if I could be sure which set. He stepped passed the threshold, then made a fast grab for the door frame as he started to tumble forward over his foot that was now stuck to the floor.

Clinging to the door frame, he looked down at his offensive shoe.

Not stuck, pinned, by a 6 inch tall spike punching neatly through the sole just a breath off of skewering his second toe.

That's...progress I suppose. Beyond his fortunately unfortunate toe the spikes continued out in a large expanse, at least one meter square. Okaaaay. This is something to think about.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Somewhere along the way, it occurred to Tsae that actually finding Demmi might prove more difficult than she'd originally accounted for. All she had to go off of was questionably-accurate portrait and a description. Auburn hair, medium height, air of not even remotely deserving a violent death.

It was going to be super awkward if she got the wrong person.

You know, the mesmer was thinking as she cautiously explored the ground floor of the house, I shouldn't have even bothered with the shoes in the first place. This is far more comfortable, and if anyone asks, I'm just imitating the Queen. She's such a trendsetter. All the girls on the frontier want to be just like her, don't you know? Especially if it comes with the noble attentions of the great Captain Thackeray.

Peeking into a nearby vestibule, she saw no sign of her target, or of anyone in general, though there was a curious-looking Asuran robot that didn't seem like it fit with the decor of the house. Maybe it was one of those exotic purchases people like Caudecus could afford to drop enough gold for an Eternity on without a second thought, just to show off how disgustingly rich they were. Oh well.

She came across scatterings of guests and servants as she continued to investigate, most of whom paid her no mind, too absorbed in contrived social niceties and throwing backhanded compliments at the delegates of the other races. Still, this party had an aura of tense apprehension, like everyone was waiting for something horrible to happen. Which, granted, if all went well, something horrible would happen, but no one should know about that....

Catching a moment where the attention of the main hall waxed around what must have been a particularly outrageous joke, Tsae made her way up the nearest staircase, hoping the second floor would be less crowded. Even the minor exertion of climbing the stairs was exacerbated by the discomfort of the dress she was wearing. She'd considered trying to sneak in a change of clothes, but it just wasn't logistically feasible with the level of security here.

Reaching the landing of the second floor, Tsaerri immediately froze, crouching in the shadow of the railing for all the good it would do her as her eyes fell upon an unexpected and uncomfortable sight.

You cannot be serious. Lyssa! Why do you hate me!? What is he even doing here? Why isn't he out being heroic somewhere far away? Or raising stupid, ugly babies with his stupid, ugly girlfriend?

In any other situation, it would have just been awkward, irritating, rage-inducing even. But here, like this, she had to actually consider killing him if he was in her way. It wouldn't be hard, the idiot had his foot stuck on something devious which was demanding all his attention. She could just step up behind him and pop-pop, no more Syrgei.

But she wasn't supposed to kill anyone besides Demmi here, they'd probably take a cut out of her fee if she got sloppy. He obviously wasn't lost up here, though. Whatever was going on, her former coworker had just as little reason to be poking around as she did. Knowing him, he was probably contracting to the Seraph, which meant that their presence here wasn't just for show. Was this some kind of sting?

Whatever it was, she was taking too damned long deciding what to do about it. Someone was coming up the stairs. Time to move.

Springing lightly to her feet, Tsae darted to the corner opposite Syrgei, pressing herself against the wall as the footsteps drew closer. His surprised glance was met with an emphatic finger to her lips, pleading for silence.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

The spikes retreated as Syrgei lifted his foot, all toes intact but a hole in the top and bottom of his shoe. I wasn't going to wear them again anyway.

He heard the footsteps but certainly hadn't expected to see someone so close to him. A young woman pressed herself to the wall across from him, and the footsteps continued.

Skritt. Maybe they are playing hide and seek?

Quite happy to accept the young woman's request for silence, Syrgei leaned back against the wall beside the door, taking extra care not to disturb the vases set near the entrance.

I could hide. There is furniture in that room, I imagine that's not spiked...a good swing from the door should do it...

He quickly quashed the idea. If this woman was just another snoop, or playing a game, then it would look a little more than suspicious if he were to vanish into thin air.

Alright, we follow her lead.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Does he... does he not... seriously? Do I look that different with all this on? Either that, or I made that little of an impression on him. Knew I should have him kicked him harder that day out by the dam.

That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. The prospect of avoiding detection was still on the table, assuming she could get through this next bit of uncomfortable inquiry. Silently praying to Lyssa that whoever it was wouldn't see either of them, her hopes were quickly dashed as the rough-looking man in servant's garb turned the corner of the landing, nearly stumbling right into her.

"What by Grenth!" The man shrank back in alarm, his oversized coat slipping to reveal the hilts of several knives strapped to his waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry little lady, I was just checking to make sure those flea-ridden Charr weren't getting into the master's personal chambers. Speaking of, might I ask what you're doing up here?"

"Well, you see," Tsae said as sweetly as she could, sauntering closer to the obviously-not-a-real-employee-of-Caudecus, chewing on a fingernail in mock nervousness, close enough that reaching his weapons would be problematic. With a snap, she has her pistol pressed against his stomach.

"Look. I don't care who you really are or what you're planning here. It isn't my business and mine isn't yours. So why don't we forget this conversation ever happened and you can get back to killing the Queen or whatever it is you're planning, and I'll be on my way?"

I should really just leave. But... what better cover for an assassination than total chaos? Just have to handle this properly.

Judging by the man's expression and his surface thoughts, he was vacillating between being properly handled and gambling that he could overpower the ninety-pound girl threatening to kill him before she could get a shot off.

Tsae considered it a mark of personal growth that she would actually prefer the former.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Oh...well...wasn't expecting that.

He hadn't recognized her hair, or her dress, or the fact that he could actually see her eyes, but there was no mistaking that tone of voice and the gun that was going along with it. He couldn't help but heave a sigh and put one hand to his face as he stood up to his full height.

Gods spare me I hope this man knows when to keep his mouth shut and keep walking.

Two steps and he was leaning on the wall just to the side of the man, near enough that he hoped his greater height would make the “servant” just slightly more uncomfortable.

He gestured slightly with a finger towards the diminutive mesmer,

“I'd suggest going along with that, personally.”

He hoped he would. He really hoped he would. It was now apparently that there was a credible threat going on in the manor. Getting back to Logan to let him know about this suspicious character, or he could take him to the captain himself, but Tsaerri's presence now threw an exceedingly large spike into any further actions. Whatever she was here for, it certainly didn't involve the Seraph and from the sounds of things, she cared about as much as ever did for the welfare of others.

On second thought;

crack!

As soon as the man's attention was on Tsaerri again, Syrgei snatched his rapier from his belt and struck the bandit hard with the pommel, the man slumping to a heap against the wall.

He looked at Tsaerri.

“I changed my mind?”

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"So, if I told you I just made up that part about him wanting to kill the Queen to see how you'd react... how would you feel about that exactly?" She figured it's best to act like her mission isn't anything important. Not like he'd just assume she was here to engineer an atrocity that would probably cause a civil war.

...would he? She hadn't been that mean to him.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Syrgei knelt down and lifted the man's coat, showed the stashed stock of daggers and a few sticks of something explosive: certainly not standard fare for a servant, or security.

"I'd say that's probably not the thing to bring up when Logan and the Seraph are around...and the Queen. Is it too much to hope that we can have a polite conversation after I get this fellow downstairs?"

Logan will have a fit, but if there is something more immediate going on than a shifty minister he should know about it.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"You say that like I've been rude to you before. Surely you must be mistaken, a lady of my station is trained in all matters of etiquette and propriety." Tsae checked the careful pinning of her hair to emphasize the point.

Before Syrgei could respond, however, there was a loud crash from the first floor -- loud enough to cut through the din of the celebration -- and suddenly the sound of raised voices and people moving very quickly down below.

"Yeah," she clarified, "I'm not staying here a second longer than I have to. Whatever you were supposed to keep from happening just happened, pretty sure."

She turned to dart down the stairs and fade into the clamor, only to immediately throw herself back around the corner as a concussive gun blast blew a hole through the wall behind the stairs. She'd only caught a brief glimpse of him, a large man in a yellow scarf and wide-brimmed hat, wielding the biggest rifle she'd ever seen.

Trying to control her startled breathing, she made panicked eye-contact with Syrgei, vainly trying to impart some kind of plan to him in the precious seconds they had..

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Syrgei rifles through the unconscious bandit's coat for anything that might be of use.

Explosives might be better outside of the house.

He palms a pellet of blinding powder and turns to Tsaerri, his own back to the wall. He indicates the hallway behind her and the floor below. He gestures more than speaks:

“over or down?”

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Even if she was interested in trying to interpret his clumsy sign language, this really isn't the time for it, considering the badass with the hand-cannon reaching the top of the steps even now. He obviously has some kind of military training, and knowing her luck, probably significant body armor under that trenchcoat.

He wastes no time rounding the corner and immediately blasting off a shot in her direction at nearly point-blank, and faster than she was anticipating. Just as he pulls the trigger, Tsae lunges into a backflip and blinks across the room, masking herself in invisibility for a precious second to dart for cover as a phantasm in a frilly dress rushes toward the gunner with a ghostly sword. And is promptly obliterated by a second shot.

A stray pellet grazes Tsae's shin, tearing a bloody furrow through her stocking and eliciting a pained squeak from her where she hides.

You've only had a good ten seconds at this point, don't knife him or anything while I'm drawing his fire. Idiot.

...this really hurts.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Just like old times.

Syrgei leaps at the gunman's and kicks him square in the back. The gunman staggers forward a couple of steps, but is far from going down, and it isn't hard to feel the slip of fabric on the metal beneath the man's long coat.

Right, of course.

His rapier likewise draws only a sharp squeal as the gunman regains his footing and spins around, that massive rifle going off again.

Shit Shit Shit!

Syrgei rolls sharply to the side. If he had had coat tails, they would have been lost. Behind the gunman again, Syrgei reverses his grip on the rapier and dashes towards him, hoping to rush him over the lip of the stairwell.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Okay... just wait for him to turn on Syrgei, good... now to make my escape.

...damn it. Don't do this to me, conscience. Don't you--

Lys damn it!

Just as her former guildmate bounces off the planted form of this monstrous gunman -- really, what was he thinking? -- Tsaerri grits her teeth through the pain in her leg and launches herself forward in a dead sprint, her bare feet thankfully light enough on the hard wood to not draw their assailant's attention.

With a final leap, she springs onto the man's back in a death-clutch, tearing her dress in the process and wrenching his head back. She wastes no time pulling her pistol out of the ether and blowing a hole through the side of his head before he can shake her off.

The momentum carries his now-lifeless body in a tumble down the stairs, which she only narrowly avoids with a hard fall on the landing, right on her injured leg.

"Ughh..." she grunts with clenching eyes, clutching at the wound. Why did this always happen to her, whenever this idiot showed up in her life? Everything would have been fine if he just hadn't been here.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

“Tell me what the gentry dislikes about a good pair of daggers.”

Groaning slightly, Syrgei smooths his coat down, though the gesture is more to check for bruises than to tidy his appearance.

“Perhaps I ought to look into this transmutation business.”

He notices the blood trickling down Tsaerri's leg.

“Are you okay? Can you make it out of here?” Are you going to shove a gun into my face for asking?

Whatever her response, there is another loud crash downstairs by the entrance to the garden.

“You've discovered my plot? It doesn't matter, you can't stop me or my golem!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Grenth, you are testing me today. So does this count as being in the right place at the right time?