Dreary Decisions

[Thom]

Thom woke slowly from the painful sleep. His stomach felt as though an elephant had crushed his stomach or at least his sternum. He breathed heavily for a few moments before spitting upon the rotten cobblestone floor. Moss was everywhere that there was as brick. It's what looked to be a dungeon as it was different from the normal gallows back at home. Glancing around he realized that this place was rarely used as nothing was around except for the scattered remains of the food that was left behind by the locals. The ray was covered in something that obviously was not food, but more of a fecal matter. There were rodents. He knew that it could only be them in this case. The food was nibbled on as well. The longer he glanced around at the dungeon around him he realized that this place was much easier to get out of than in to.

The bars around him were rotted out by rust and other things. The keyhole of the door was larger than his fist and skeletons were no where to be found along with the chains that held them in place. Standing slowly he held his stomach trying to not show the pain from the blow earlier. Peaking around the halls he could see no one of importance which meant that there was always someone else patrolling somewhere.

He also realized that he had been stripped of his cloak and djembe. Walking over to the normal bars in front of him he shook them violently. No one answered. He waited longer and there was still no answer. This was going to be a lot easier than he predicted. Walking to the door he pushed forwards snapping it from it's hinges. Eagerly he pushed harder and harder slowly edging it from it's place.

"Hey!"

Thom looked immediately to his left. Two armed guards with another in front who was obviously the leader. The chest plate was different as it was crested with a black lion who howled showing its' fangs. Glancing to his right he could see two more armed guards. He sighed as he threw down the door. The door swung heavily on the highest hinge which wasn't as affected by the rust and ruin of the surrounding doors. Thom looked at the guards who made no advanced and made had no weapons other than the standards that they carried at all times. It was question time. The guard with the lion crest walked forwards throwing Thom's cloak to the floor. Placing the djembe down he stepped forward handing the pike to another guard. Thom picked the cloak up as the man smiled. His mouth was a webwork of teeth and steel as he pointed towards the cloaked. Picking it up he placed it around his back before standing and waiting the questions that were going to be thrown at him.

"Who helped you?"

Thom gave him a disdainful look. He had no help or he wouldn't be in this situation. He would probably be elsewhere drinking ale and waking peacefully to a tavern full of story thirty men and women.

"If I had help, do you think I would still be here in this wonderful place?"

Thom looked on as the black lion crested guard handed him a list of names. On the note read a death list of people had died recently by the hands of an unknown killer. The note read of a man in the dark who killed only those who he though befitting of death. There was no picture as to who the man to identify was, but the reward money was enough to buy a kingdom. At least it seemed. He looked to the guard shrugging his shoulders in response to the situation. The guard began to curse under his breath. Others watched in discontent shaking their heads in sadness. Obviously the guards that were killed were friends of those that stood before him. Or even family.

"You are free to go. And as of the death that you caused. It is nothing to worry about, it seems the guard that you took out, Cale, was someone who the king of the court had been trying to do for a while. So all in all you did us a favor." Thom cursed quietly.

Just as Thom was ready to leave he could see a shadow beyond that of the three guards. The two to his right had left without him knowing. It was something that doesn't happen often as Thom is usually a very observant person. Maybe the blow to his stomach was worse than he thought. The shadow approached closer and closer. He could barely see anything moving, but he prepared for the worst as he hurriedly picked up his drum and began to leave where the other two guards had left.

[Grey]

Grey couldn't help but grow curious about the captive performer as he roamed about the castle halls. His mouth watered at the thought of the long awaited royal blood, but the sound of clanking armor was ruining his focus. Aggravated, he found a perfect place to shed and hide the armor. Glad that he felt less stuffy and ten times lighter, he carried on. He began to hear voices almost shouting throughout the hallway.

He looked around wondering whether or not if he was lost or simply just got side tracked. The air was cooler than before, so he knew he was further down that he intended. But since he was too thirsty to care, he still carried on. The voices hanging in the air were those of the guards that he had heard before, so he knew that performer was nearby. It was a good thing that the voices were so well distinct.

Finally after taking a corner, Grey saw an open door. Sneaking in was a breeze. Not one soul had noticed his entrance. With a mischief smirk he watched two of guards leave. After a moment another followed behind. His midnight eyes then turned to focus on the man who was gathering his belongings. Apparently he noticed his shadow that seemed to stretch further that it would under normal lighting.

Standing as still as a statue, Grey watched the nervous man take his leave. He smirked as he shook his head thinking how easy his prey will come, but wondered if that man or the guards should become his target. Still indecisive, he soon followed, making sure to stay against the dark, shadow covered walls. Once he excited the room, he couldn't believe how long the hallways seemed. Taking one glance around, he quickly fell in position, but remained a few feet behind the weary performer.

[Thom]

Thom walked down the dreary hallway. The stones no longer held the scent of moss, but rather the air did as he walked silently down the halls. The air had gradually gotten colder and the air thicker as the same hallway stretched for what seemed to be miles. He whistled nonchalantly as he headed further into the growing darkness. He was obviously going the wrong direction. He didn't seem to care as he realized the sudden echoing footsteps of what seemed to be a corporeal witch behind him. They barely made noise and even the sound of breathing couldn't be heard. It was probably a hired assassin that here to finally take him out. Apparently they cared more about that guard than he had heard.

He thought of the story that reminded him of the assassin. There were soldiers once used by the King himself in the dark ages of the war when he decided to conquer the earth that lay before him. Stories were told of what looked to be people dressed in robes with a naked chest and faces that bore no human qualities. Some called them monsters, but their true name and calling were Fetch. These creatures weren't actually anything but tortured souls in the tattered remains of old soldiers. According to the stories of soldiers these "fetch" summoned unholy lightning from their hands and control it with their will targeting anyone who tried to usurp the King. They looked like normal people from a distance but the closer to someone they got the more distorted their face seemed. It was rare for anyone to get close as these corporeal bodyguards watched every person that headed towards the King. It was like nothing the soldiers had seen. Soldiers would see people dressed in robes on a battlefield walking towards them and all you would see flash followed by the crack of a thousand echoes of thunder in one's ear which would shatter every flesh inside your ear. Those that survived the encounter committed suicide as soldiers watched their friends be turned into a smoldering pile of rotten flesh before their eyes.

It was said that only one was killed during the beginning of the war. As the fetch died men were blown to pieces in every direction as the blow was more intense than anything they had ever encountered. It was as though a thousand tons of satchel were detonated in the middle of the battlefield. Those that survived told the tales. The fetch's outer skin dissolved, as they say, as the skin dropped to the ground and a single soul rose from the remains. The King saw what had happened and rushed to the need of his fellow companion who had dropped. He quickly swallowed the soul that had appeared and devoured it whole. With a burning passion he became stronger than before as the roamed the battlefield. Rumors say that only a couple of these fetch remain. Others say they number in the dozen. Thom only hoped that one of them wasn't right behind him.

Thom set a certain pace hoping that the person would come from the shadows the they hid from. He kept thinking of stories and what this place would look like if his body exploded within these cavern like walls. He went back to whistling adding a drum beat that he played on his stomach. It no longer hurt anymore and he could stretch with the satisfaction that he was back in shape. He whistled happily to the tune of the old mourning songs except with a few of his own variations. Now all he had left is to get to the nearest tavern to get some food into his already empty belly.

[Grey]

Grey watched the man as he curiously followed. The stranger's whistling melody ricoshaed off the walls as it invaded the dark hallway. Once he stopped, Grey couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. The man seemed to be at deep thought as he strolled along only making Grey more pique.

The dwelling silence that lingered about, seemed a little awkward, as Grey got the feeling like he was making way too much noise. Pushing the thought away, he looked onward only to see more hallways. He wondered if it was ever going to end. Suddenly the man picked up his pace, catching Grey a little off guard. Grey then approached closer to make sure that he wouldn't pull any sudden moves without a close encounter. Yet he remained within the safety of the surrounding shadows.

Finally he broke the silence with the melody once more but with his drum to add rhythm to it. Whatever he was playing, Grey surprisingly found it likeable. As he played, Grey noticed the roaring of his stomach buried beneath the happy melody. Apparently the man was hungry, but he seemed to have recovered fairly well. Grey smirked as he shook his head in amusement. He had forgotten what it was like to be hungry like that, but he knew that at any moment his thirst would become uncontrollable.

He wished that he knew why he didn't make a meal out of the man before him. He followed resisting the urge. He hoped that a guard would pass by soon, but as they continued walking he got a feeling like something wasn't right. He then focused on the man and watched him closely, as he rested his hand upon his over lengthen sword, and prepared for conflict.

[Thom]

Picking up the pace once more he realized that there was no hiding himself from the assassin that followed. He really didn't care as he was more concerned with the hunger that drew him closer to nearest bar. Almost at full sprint he jumped down the hallway not only breaking pursuit from the assassin, but also slipping between the moss of cobblestoned floor. Excitedly he realized that he was most falling down the halls than actually running as there were tendencies to slip constantly. Watching his balance he stopped suddenly once again finding out that the air had changed from the constant shiver to a more or less warmth that covered the halls. He took a couple of steps as he got closer up what seemed to be a slope.

Watching himself closely he watched as the air seemed to get thicker and thicker as he got closer to what seemed to be the sweet smelling air of the closest kitchen. The air was sweet and the apparently there was a floor above him. Though it not made of stone but more of wood. Pushing upon the wood he realized it opened slowly. With a loud creak it opened to the sweet sensation and a hand that reached inside. Grabbing the hand he was pulled out into a bright light. Watching himself he guarded the arm hoping that it wouldn't have been chopped off. The air was sweet and hopefully they would give him something to cure the groan in his stomach.

[Grey]

Grey watched anxiously as the man sped up and dashed away. He began to follow at the same rate but came up with a better plan. He ran in the general direction to see which turns he took. Grey couldn't help but laugh at the slipping commotion in the distance. He then took an opposite route, hoping to cut him off somewhere.

Grey had no idea where he was going. The man could have found his way out for all he knew. Arguing with himself he slowed down and walked as he noticed a dim light ahead of him. Each step of the way, it seemed that it was a gathering place for humans. Smirking, his pace increased at the thought of satisfying his strained thirst.

Just as he figured, there was a wooden door at the end of the hallway that seemed to have a golden glow from the lights within. Placing his hand on the knob, he eagerly opened it. The place seemed to be some sort of small restaurant filled with people. He entered with a smile stretched from ear to ear.

Grey positioned himself in the middle of the floor and placed his hand on his sword, eager to see how they would react. One by one, they all began to stare in curiosity. Drunken men laughed and pointed, and kids tried to mimic his perfect pose. But little did they know this position was often known as the pose of death or chaos. With a thirsty smirk, he drew his sword.

Some of the bigger men surrounded him in a small circle-like formation. They seemed to be well trained duelist. But they couldn't seem to figure out his style of fighting. Grey remained straight as he pointed his sword between two of the men. One looked as if he'd been insulted as the other began to push the sword away with the back of his left hand.

Grey waited until his hand just about touched his sword, and suddenly turned the blade sideways. He smirked at the startled man's face as he jerked his hand away. After a moment, a couple of the other men began to make their move. Once they saw Grey swiftly raise the blade over a man's eyebrow they came to a dead halt.

The man broke into a cold sweat as fear over took him.
"Have mercy." He pleaded.

Grey looked at him specifically and spun around in a perfect one-hundred and eighty degrees, killing everyone else within the circle. At first they didn't know what happened until they found themselves bleeding to death on the floor. Grey's blade was pointed directly at the terrified man. He loved the fear in his eyes, the shudders his body made. He was paralyzed.

Grey walked towards him, while kicking a dying soul on the way. He laughed at the frozen man as he came face to face with him. He then leaned toward his left ear and whispered, "There is no mercy." Leaving it at that, he leaned down and bit his neck. Causing the man to began his transformation.

Pain over took him faster than Grey thought. The agonized man fell to the floor shivering, and Grey walked on by toward the frighten people. His tip of his sword dripped the blood of his victims. Grey didn't want to toy around any longer. So he began his chaotic role. Killing and feeding. People fled in fear, but most didn't get very far.

Finally he was satisfied. Bloody bodies covered the floor, along with dark puddles underneath most. Grey went on to the kitchen to find supplies to hide the evidence. He grabbed towels, bags, whatever he could find. He then disposed of the bodies and helped the still transforming man out a window to dwell in the allies. Finally the place looked as good as it had when he first walked in. It was a good thing he only spared the chef and his crew for luring in more people. The air seemed to fill with aromas that would be mouth watering to humans. Grey suggested that if he'd allow Grey to be a waiter while he stayed, he'd make sure they kept their lives. That is until he decided to leave.

As Grey put on the uniform, he noticed that more people seemed to be coming. The place began to fill in fairly fast as he took orders of their last meal. Suddenly a familiar aroma came from the floor. He recognized it as the performer's blood. Smiling in victory, he waited to see what he'd do.

A loud creek filled the air, startling many of the customers. Grey bent down and reached in and pulled out the hungry man. He seemed scared at first, causing a chuckle to rise in Grey's throat. As he examined the man more closely, he teased in a low voice, "After wondering around those dark hallways you must be starving. I know I was." He gave a quick smirk and smiled like a welcoming waiter would as he asked in a normal clear voice,"Are you hungry, sir?"

[Thom]

Thom reached for the hand. In a split second reaction--as he touched the arm--a shiver was sent down his spine. He knew immediately that he was dealing with someone or something that wasn't supposed to come from this world. It definitely wasn't undead since the bones didn't break nor was the skin withered. He could only assume that he was dealing with some sort of vampire or werewolf blood. Something that couldn't be trusted.

Thom stood securely upon the floor while backing from the grip. Jerking his hand from the cold deathly hand he used the same arm to prop the door to its max height before letting it tip open. Pushing himself out of the floor he rested upon the floor of what seemed to be a kitchen. He looked towards the person who had offered the help to him. Standing up slowly he closed the hatch and stood a pace away from the person to make sure he had some distance.

He brushed his shoes and clothes off still staring at the person in front of him. Glancing towards the person's right hand he noticed that the palm rested upon a basic sword attached to his hip. Unknowingly, he squinted at the person's face trying to decipher the gender of the person in front of him. Unsure he decided that it would be best to leave the scene almost as quickly as he arrived. But not without some food here and there.

Turning around he noticed that they were not the only two here. And frankly the area had seemed to fill quite quickly. Glancing at what seemed to be a cook in front of him he quickly figured that it was not a cook from the court but someone impersonating him. He could tell by the way the assailant had moved in the corridors before. No sound clothes shuffling. Only the sound of footsteps, however the person in front of him had no markings of being down there. Unless they had just washed their feet, but there were no traces of water. Something was amiss and he couldn't tell what or who was in his presence.

He still stood there thinking to himself. Careful of his actions. The shuffling of feet and yells distracted him as people filled in the area behind the assassin in front of him. He looked onwards as masses of troops filled tables behind him. As many as two hundred men has come running some on patrol others on guard. The kitchen was no lined with hurried cooks dashing back and forth amongst yelling and calls.

Thom looked towards the table next to him. There lay a loaf of bread amongst a scatter of cheeses and various types of meat. Thom reached over grabbing some bread and stuffing it quickly down. It tasted delicious and cured a majority of the hunger that still troubled him. Fortunately he was near the kitchen and the mess hall where he could get more food from the cooks if he went towards the tables in the mess hall. Leaving the kitchen, while ignoring the cook that tried to help him up, he looked back and waved to the supposed cook. Walking towards the tables he was startled as an uproar of soldiers glanced towards all with smiles upon their faces.

It wasn't bad as the lot was not angry at him, but rather pleased that the bard had shown up as one of the soldiers had stood up and walked towards him. Apparently he wasn't the only bard that supposed to arrive today as a majority of men here ate their last official food of the court before heading off to another front of the war against the King and his fellow guard that plagued nearby towns. Attacks had been sighted and the lot that sat in front of him was the general amount of men heading out in the morning. Thom looked as the soldier in front of him pointed towards the entrance where several men and women walked in, all caring some sort of instrument or entertainment of choice.

He then pointed towards the stage where the performers were already heading. The two that lead the pack of entertainers were the two from several days before amongst the crowd. They didn't seem to mind the fact that he was going to play with them. In fact, it was quite the opposite as they smiled and waved as they jogged towards the front of the stage. Thom walked to the stage hopping up and taking out his djembe. Pulling his cloak and gloves off he grabbed stools from the tables for some of the others to sit. Removing his shoes he hiked his pants up at the crotch and sat down putting the drum between his legs. Leaning it forward slightly he began to warm up his hands. They had hurt after being locked in the chains. It felt good to scat once more on something that he was more familiar with. Creating small beats here and there a majority of the entertainers had followed suit bringing out instruments of their own. Many of the others danced with the men as they followed the beats as others juggled along the side.

The two who had led the troop had walked beside him gathering a chair to sit. Their instruments of choice included a lute and recorded. Each engraved with marks from separate countries or courts. Obviously they knew what they were doing which would amplify the music to a level which he hadn't heard for quite sometime. Hopefully the assassin was watching so that he/she realized that he wasn't a threat to them. He'd rather not die due to war that was going on. Hopefully he could hit the front lines soon so that the stories of the war could start heading in and probably make some coin as well. Thom stopped only to hear an uproar of complaints from the dancing soldiers. Cracking his wrists he looked towards the other entertainers as they shrugged as to what songs he knew or didn't. Thankfully, he knew too many to count.

He thought for a moment amongst the yells being thrown at him. Before long he thought of something that the two would get. Starting the rhythm to an old song known as
Drops of Brandy. It wasn't difficult as any child should be able to pick up on the timid beats. It wasn't long before food was brought to the soldiers. The brandy and ale too, as soldiers dug in quickly to the meat that lay in front of him. He glanced towards the impersonator wondering if she was getting hungry amongst the throng of drunken pigs. Thom continued the beat switching occasionally to a slower song so the entertainers could take a break. He actually began to enjoy the time that he spent with the new bards. Shooing them off for a quick break, as they looked more tired than normal, he continued on his own performing beats that were foreign to this land.

Hopefully the soldiers enjoyed it as they would be done soon. The thought of them finishing only brought worry to his mind. He would be playing for the majority of the night and didn't expect to leave without some sort of reward whether it be from the soldiers of the king himself. He also thought of the possibility towards another proposal from the king to stay in the court. It was probably going to happen as it seemed that the entertainers were property of the court that lay before him. He shrugged thinking nothing of it before glancing back at the stranger in the kitchen.

[Grey]

Grey could only smirk at the man as he made himself presentable for the audience.
He slightly chuckled when he gave him a strange look. Apparently he had a hard time figuring out whether he was male or not. The man seemed to grow deeper and deeper within thought; just like he did down in the cold, damp halls.

Grey's focus was yanked away by the pushy waiters and cooks. The atmosphere was once again filled with racket as everyone got into position. Glancing at the man one last time, he turned to his post. Every one was dashing back and forth gathering ingredients for the impatient cooks. Grey leaned against the wall that faced the stage as he laughed at the silly chaos that stirred violently.

Grey's glance flickered eagerly about the growing crowd, waiting for the right moment. Suddenly his eyes focused on the man as he took his leave. He couldn't help but smirk when he put up the effort to ignore him like that. Doors swinging open and loudly banging against the wall captured Grey's attention. A large group of built soldiers were ramming through eager for food. Following them were more performers. Grey cocked his head slightly in curiosity.

As the performers prepared themselves, the man confidently joined them. He was the first to play. The rhythm he created sounded similar to what he had heard before but at a different pattern. Not long after, the rest joined in.

Grey couldn't believe that he was so interested in this performance. He smiled as he closed his eyes. He decided that all the performers and cooks were going to get to witness everyone else dying before their eyes. Smirking at the thought, he slowly opened his eyes as if he didn't wish to see the rushing humans race about.

Appetizing food filled the air in a hurry as it was taken out to the customers. Grey left the wall and obtained a serving platter full of mouth-watering meals. As he served, people asked him why he had such a sword upon his waist while other's stared anxiously.

Grey didn't continue serving after that. He quickly put up the serving platter and watched the drunken men make fools of them selves. They were obviously the first to go if nobody accepted his challenge of death. Thirst wrapped around his teeth as he grew more and more eager to make his move. Yet he knew he still had to wait a while.

He began to roam around the kitchen to pass the time. Music from the man's djembe rhythms filled the air, causing everyone within the kitchen to feel calm. All except Grey. Grey was almost too eager to even care, though he did enjoy the music.

Finally a couple of hours had passed and the soldiers managed to stay for a while longer than Grey had expected. He was relieved that it was time to make the move that he had been waiting for all night long. Grey slipped off the waiter's uniform and strolled out onto the middle of the floor, and placed his eager hand upon his long sword. Making a pose that he liked to think of as the "pose of death".

Drunken people began to laugh as more kids tried to strike his perfect pose. Grey couldn't help but smile at their effort as he watched the surrounding faces grow anxious and worried. His glance then flickered to the soldiers who were also stricken by the samething except with a hint of anger buried beneath.Grey then allowed his eyes drift from them as he shot a glance at the performing man sitting on the stage, wondering what he would do.

[Thom]

Thom waved to the others to continue their performance while Thom stepped down and walked towards the nervous throng. Soldiers pulsed amongst each other as they watched the male assassin carefully. His hand was rested upon the hilt of the sword as he stared among the crowd licking his lips. Thom walked over to the throng pulling the soldiers apart slowly. Almost as though he was peeling a banana he walked into the middle of the crowd staring the man in the face once again. He was in different clothes than he was before as he had probably shed the clothes of the previous chef. He was unsure as to whether the man was really an assassin, but he took caution as he slowly approached the man. The soldiers parted forming a circle and tossed Thom a sword still in sheath.

Thom caught it reluctantly and almost dropped it. Catching it far from delicately he used the majority of his strength to toss it back at the soldier. The sword barely got to the rim of the circle. He obviously couldn't use the weapons that the soldiers used. He walked up to the assassin who was relaxed and calm of the situation at hand, but still rested his hand upon the weapon. Walking up slowly, he stopped 10 feet from the man. He bowed deeply and began to speak loudly.

"Welcome to this glorious hall stranger! We welcome you to the table and the feast in front of your eyes! However," Thom paused. "You might have to participate in the celebration!" Thom stopped and walked closer placing his left hand upon his shoulder. Thom's blood ran fast and heart pumped harder than anything before. Hopefully he wouldn't be killed. Thom dropped his voice down to whisper as he spun around to back walking around the assassin slowly.

"However, if you plan to do anything dangerous. I recommend you start soon before the king arrives. As he will arrive with his magicians and other fancies. These here are just the pawns." Thom brought his voice back up to more audible tone. Thom ran to the stage and threw his arms up into the air.

"Now let us enjoy the feast!"

The entertainers began to play as Thom packed his things hoping to grab some grub before the king arrived.

[Grey]

Music continued to flow through the air as the audience grew more and more anxious. Grey stood there wondering which human would be his first victim. As he observed the surrounding crowd, movement off to one side captured his eye. He was surprised once he recognized the approaching man as the performer that he had been keeping an eye on.

Once they made eye contact Grey couldn't help but smirk eagerly. He looked off only to realize that the soldiers had formed a circle. A pleased smile crossed his face at what seemed to be some what an attempted challenge. But his eager smile faded once he saw that the man had refused to fight. He cocked his head slightly at an angle out of confusion. Apparently this man was not a fighter, or at least did not like to fight much.

The soldiers who were eager to see a fight were greatly disappointed. They glanced down and crossed their arms across their chests. Grey ignored the harsh looks he was receiving from them and watched the performer speak. His words seemed to ease the tension that hovered over everyone's head.

The thought of participating in a celebration sounded almost perfect for what he was planning to do at this moment. For a while Grey was lost in thought until something touched his shoulder. He slightly moved in response and glared at the man who had his hand dangerously resting on his shoulder. Fighting to keep a straight face, he listened to the man's recommendations.

He couldn't help but smirk at the man's nervous heart beat as he maintained eye contact with him. The sound of royal blood arriving intrigued Grey. He always wanted to know what true royal blood tasted like, yet he had to devise a plan in order to get close enough without anyone noticing for a couple of minutes.

Grey watched as the man claimed his place on the stage. The word feast almost had him snatching a passing person, but he let them go. For now. He looked up at the stage to where the man used to be. His eyes scanned the area and spotted him with his back facing him. He seemed to be packing, but wondered what all he had to pack since he never carried much.


Without a sound, Grey was behind him with his mouth an inch from his ear. "When will the King and his friends arrive?" he asked restraining himself from biting him. He then casually stepped back before the man had a chance to try anything. "And if you mind, I'd like to at least know who you are."

He looked off looking to see if anyone was attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation and quickly looked back. "By the way, everyone calls me Grey." He smirked and continued, his voice darker this time, "You seem to attract quite a crowd. Would you mind if I stick around for awhile? All you have to do is attract people, and you keep your life. And if you wish, I'd be more than happy to keep authorities off your back while you do as you please."He shrugged and spoke casually, "Just an offer." He paused thoughtfully, " And if you want I can be sure you get shelter and food." He crossed his arms across his chest as he waited for his answer.

Suddenly a disturbance made Grey anxiously look up and whirl. Hooded men in black cloaks eased through the doorway grasping chains that held some sort of creature bound. Grey couldn't see the creature for the standing anxious people. Whatever it was, was scaley, black and gray. It grunted as it fault and failed to break free from the over weighted chaines.

More men seemed to seep through the doorway. Grey then turned to the performer and asked, "Who are they and what on earth is going on?"

[Thom]

Thom realized that the assassin had followed him past the stage and unto the area in front. He was packing his drum away and getting rid of unnecessary things such as money and other random things. He listened intently to what he was saying. Thinking slowly he thought of a proper response and whether or not he should really listen to the man. He made proposals that were necessary and others that weren't. He spoke of protection for a court bard. It made him giggle as he thought of needing protection from this person who was more against the law than he was. He had his ways of escaping, but he was just slaughtering those in his path. Or was more or less trying to. He asked him for his name.

"Me?" He paused. "I am just your humble bard. And attracting a crowd will be nothing as guests have already arrived. Will you learn my name in time if you wish to stay alive. As you are not in the position to offer me protection. You are in the most problematic situation."

The doors to the mess hall swung open as footsteps approached and the sounds of sniffing and snarling. He knew what they had brought to the last celebration. He looked above the crowd with two men cloaked in dark clothes with one holding the leash to the beast that led the way. He could see the beginning of a procession with a soldier in front nervously twitching his fingers shifting as he walked. He knew what had happened.

"You've been squealed on," Thom said spinning towards Grey. The beast approached closer. "The beast you saw is known is some countries as a Wight. And it knows that you are somewhere in this room. Luckily, this one is blind. Put this on." Thom reached deep into his bag pulling out his old jester's cloak. It was strung together with different patches of all different colors. Watching Grey he knew that he didn't like the color nor the idea of it. But it seemed like the only option that was on his mind.

"Look, don't be surprised, but you aren't of this world. At least you shouldn't be. Your skin is cold as ice and your breath reeks of blood and death. You are something that you're not telling, but I don't care. Your scent is traceable by the Wight and you won't escape without the assassination you are looking for. If you want the royal blood on your sword you'll follow me. Oh, and hide the sword under the cloak or you won't get close enough. The cloaked men will fry you alive. I'll explain later."

Thom jumped down placing juggling balls in his hands and winked.

"Ready?"

[Grey]

Grey listened to the man's reply, smiling every so often to keep things casual. Once he finished, Grey smiled and glanced down. "Please," he said almost over stretching the word while laughing. Living was not a problem of his. "Like I said, I'd be more than happy for the authority part. But only for their death and the chaos that follows." he added in a darkened voice. "Besides the depth of my problematic situation bothers me none." Grey couldn't help but laugh under his breath.

His laughter faded as he focused on the approaching beast. He tensed as he reached for his sword. He remembered the last time he encountered one of these creatures and how he almost overestimated its strength. But this time he was more prepared. He began to draw his sword when the performer's voice grasps his attention.

As he spoke, Grey noticed how the Wight's eyes were a very pale blue instead of its normal piercing emerald color. Grey whirled around anxiously to see what he was reaching for. The colorful cloak made Grey grimace in disgust. He almost rather take his chances with the blind Wight and the two cloaked men that followed.

"Are you serious?" he asked, disgusted as he took the colorful cloak out of the performer's hands. As he put it on, he realized that he had almost forgotten how thirsty he was. He hoped he could control himself for a while longer. At least until the beast was gone.

Grey looked at himself after he had the cloak on. He couldn't help but think that it looked hideous, but shrugged and looked up as the man spoke. He smirked at the words royal blood, and laughed, "Who said I wanted that under my blade?" he asked as the visitors approached closer.

He shrugged, "Whatever, I'll follow, I guess." He looked down at that point and realized that his sword remained visible. It was a usual habit of his to keep it available and ready at the exact moment he needed it. He nodded as he draped the cloak over his sword. He just hoped that it didn't stick out from behind.

Grey cocked his head slightly to one side in confusion when he noticed round figures suddenly resting in the performer's hands. He looked up in time to see him wink. Grey chuckled, "I'm always ready."

Suddenly spheres were in the air as Grey positioned himself. Since he had never done this before he paid extra close attention on his movements. Mimicking was something Grey was always an expert on. Finally it was his turn; he made the spheres form shapes of different kinds and speeds.

Grey couldn't believe this was actually amusing him until he noticed something stroking his leg. He looked down anxiously to find the Wight sniffing at his feet. Grey ignored it as he passed the spheres to the performer. He then crossed his arms fighting the urge to reach for his sword to smite the Wight where it stood.

He watched the performer until the Wight's head suddenly captured his attention. Without moving Grey shifted his eyes to the Wight. Standing on four legs, its head was exactly level with Grey's. Even though it was blind it seemed to try to stare him down, and Grey tensed as he forced himself to watch the performer continue his act.

[Thom]

Thom watched Grey juggle the four balls quite easily as he tossed them through the air. He knew the Wight was intent on him as he had the mixed smell of both the proper court and death. Thom received the balls from Grey and started to add more as he walked next to the Wight and eventually in front of Grey. The Wight took a large sniff before dropping and begin his walk back to his master. The cloaked man (the elementari) watched Thom carefully as he juggled the balls through the air not caring about the doors that now had brought in the royal procession.

The other entertainers had stopped their movements and watched the royal blood enter the event. Thom could care less about it or the fact that there was another king in his presence. He knew about them and their cruelty towards everyone else who wasn't of their blood. Surrounding the king were soldiers and more people playing various trumpets or horns to announce the coming of the king.

Soldiers dropped to their knees as Thom turned his back to the procession and shoved the things back into his case. Slinging the drum over his back he turned around to see several soldiers walking in his general direction. Adjusting his cloak and drum his walked over to meet them. They seemed displeased that he was heading out. Behind them the king stood watching Thom carefully.

"You there Thom Merrilin show no respect to me and my standing. Nor does your traveling apprentice. I recommend that he drops his sword and bows. As you should to or you might not leave here alive."

Thom watched for a moment. He couldn't help but point and laugh hysterically at the suggestions made by this "king" in front of him. His high pitched laugh echoed amongst the mess hall as people turned and watched the coming situation. Smiling he wiped tears from his eyes and adjusted his position before finally speaking.

'I bow to no one and neither will he. And if you killed me yourself, I'm pretty sure you'd be overrun with hundreds of ships from other navies to take you several pegs down. And they wouldn't make it pretty. They would make sure that this city understood what was going on, then again I don't the city would have any trouble with the court dying. Besides I no longer belong to any court unlike, your fellow brass players over there. Royal blood in their veins but cast from high society itself. In fact, I'm going to borrow one."

He ushered Grey to follow him as he walked past the guards and the king brushing shoulders with the king himself. Thom no longer accepted such annoyance anymore. Suddenly guards formed around the two as one of the soldiers emerged holding a pike in his hand. He looked at Thom smiling and charged. Thom side stepped grabbing the wood of the pike and began to pull. Slamming his foot into the soldier's he forced the man to trip over his own blow. The soldier hit the floor with a loud noise of metal ringing and denting. The pike was far from the soldier's hands. Thom knew that he would only leave this place it he made an example.

Grabbing the spear he turned the guy over and cut the tendons on the back of his heel. He watched as the Achilles tendon rolled up the back of the skin. Screams of pain echoed from the guy and the Wight screamed to know what had happened. The elementari only stood there and watched as the king fainted, dropping to the floor. Gasps came from every soldier in the circle as Thom began to leave. Blood was everywhere as it stained the tiles. He walked past the brass players. All eyes followed him and Grey as they left the bloody mess hall.

Grabbing a brass player by the collar he dragged the man out the door. The man had apparently fainted while standing and had no objections to Thom dragging him out the mess hall doors. Thom flung the body as hard as could past the door, which wasn't very far, as he left he bowed slightly and closed the doors himself. He watched Grey give him an odd look as to why Thom had dragged him out the door. He shrugged.

"Quiet. I need money."

He realized they stood in a barren courtyard. He threw the body through the bushes and hopped over as he could hear the approach of more guards. Searching through the clothes he found a bag of gold sitting in his shirt. Why it was in his shirt he did not know, but he didn't complain as it totaled to something of fifty dollars. It would last him a decent amount. Thom looked at the body realizing that he was still alive. Picking the chin up he punched quickly into the throat crushing the adams apple into the wind pipe. The man woke up briefly before gasping for air and flailing. Thom held his nose and mouth closed waiting for him to go under. It didn't take long and the pulse had stopped.

Looking at Grey he began to speak. "I know you're not something human. Probably undead of some sort judging by your breath-" Thom stopped as he heard troops run by and into the mess hall. Thom looked at the Grey. Then the man. Back at Grey. Then to the man. Raised his head once more he raised his eyebrows and pointed. He knew that the undead were some sort of cannibals. He really didn't care.

"You don't have long. If you still want to talk then meet me at the bar named the Slaughter Prince. I'll wait if your interested. Goodbye and happy hunting."

Thom scuttled away jumping over bushes and around trees heading for town.

[Grey]

Rain began to pour as Grey stood by the body and watched the performer take his leave. He couldn't believe that he didn't get any royal blood out of the three opportunities that stared at him in the face. Seconds passed and Grey finally looked down at the limp body that lay at his feet. He wished that the man would have let him kill the man instead.

Grey stood there staring at the body until a commotion from the hall made him look up. He noticed soldiers leaving one by one. Few were drunk and staggered about, following them was one of the elementari. Grey shook his head and looked at the limp body once more. He bent over, picked up the body and disposed of it.

Moments later Grey approached the front window of the hall. His thirsty eyes wandered about eagerly as he noticed the King was still out cold. Waiters were already cleaning up the spilled blood and shouting for a first aid kit. A few feet from them, were two soldiers, the king, the elementari and his Wight. The soldiers were on each side of the king while the elementari and the Wight stood in the front. Unfortunately, they faced the main entrance.

Windows behind the King stood wide open. Grey figured that it was possibly for the King to have plenty of fresh air, but most likely a well set trap. He stood there trying to figure out a way to get to the King without anyone noticing.

"Now what might you be doing?"

Grey whirled around alarmed. His hand clutched his sword ready for conflict, but relaxed once he realized there was a soldier standing behind him with his sword already drawn and ready. Grey slightly smirked at the idiot while he explained.

"I was only watching the food being made and delivered. And watching all these people happily eat it makes it worse." he paused and licked is lips as if his mouth was watering. Then he looked into the window and sighed. "I would go in there and enjoy a meal myself, but as poor as I am, I can't."

"Sir, you don't look all that poor. Judging by your wardrobe, you look more like a moderate citizen." The soldier accused.

"This wardrobe was a gift from a very close friend of mine. They spent days on it because they didn't want me to go without anything nice." He briefly paused as he looked the soldier in the eye. "Sir, you can search me all you want. You won't find any money on me." Grey turned toward the window once more in what was supposed to be grief and sighed. "If I don't get any food, how am I supposed to feed my family? My kids always come up to me asking when their next meal is. What am I supposed to tell them when I don't know myself?" Grey looked down with a desperate look and glanced up just in time to see the pain in the soldier's face. He couldn't believe he was actually buying this. "I-"

The soldier held up his hand and cut him off. "Sir, say no more. I will pay for your food, and then I will make sure you have a job that pays you enough to support your family." He reached for the main door and began to open it.

Once it was at least two inches open, the Wight came to attention at once.

"No." Grey almost shouted.

"What is it?" the soldier asked suspiciously.

"That Wight," Grey pointed in its direction, "thinks that I'm someone that I'm not. And if we go in this way, I don't know if the elementari will even be able to keep him under control."
"Hmmm. Well then, in that case, let's go this way." He turned as he suggested Grey to follow. "This way I know we won't have any problems." He said in a cheerful voice.

The tone was almost aggravating, but Grey paid no mind to it. A smile stretched across his face as the soldier took a corner to the back of the building where no one would be able to see them. Grey slowed down as he stopped and began to explain where they were and what the plan was. But he was cut off once he realized Grey's teeth sinking into the nape of his neck.

The soldier's blood was satisfying but it didn't quench his thirst. He struggled for freedom but failed. Soon his body became limp and his body ran dry. Grey dropped what was left and stripped the uniform from it. He hoped it would fit as he ripped the body in bits and pieces and disposed them into the hall's dumpster.

The uniform was a little big, but it would work. Thanks to the rain, his sent was well mixed in with the soldier's. It was a good thing he was careful enough not to spill any blood. He then put on the hat that matched the uniform and walked through the back doors.

Waiters scattered everywhere placing orders and delivering sizzling food to the customers. Someone outside the kitchen was still yelling for the first aid kit. Grey scanned the area, but there was no first aid kit. So he began searching. Some of the cooks and waiters stopped and watched him anxiously.

Finally he found the kit and left the kitchen area and headed toward the King. The King was coming to when he arrived. The elementari glanced at him once and went back to staring at the main entrance. The Wight was relaxed but alert even though he was blind.

"It’s about time." one soldier murmured. He began talking under his breath as he approached Grey and snatched it from his grip. He turned sharply and went to aid the wounded soldier who was still bleeding. The other soldier urged Grey to stand by the King while he helped with the bandages. Grey nodded and took his place next to the King.

The elementari anxiously looked at him once more and returned to his position. Grey thought to himself for awhile. He began debating weather or not to slit his throat, change him, or drain his blood. Drinking his blood seemed like the best idea, but what about the Wight? He would have to kill it immediately, but how?

Grey finally came up with an idea. He looked into the kitchen to see how many witnesses there would be and decided to go along with his idea.

“Sir.”

The elementari turned around and met his gauze. “Yes, what is it?”

“I think there’s something strange going on in the kitchen area. I caught a glimpse of it, but couldn’t make it out. I’d hate to go check it out with no back up.”

He looked up towards the kitchen with a confused expression, “I don’t see anything suspicious.”

“Like I said, I only caught a glimpse. The guy that I saw must be making everyone act normal while he hides and waits for the perfect moment to assassinate the King.”

The elementari’s expression was now worried. “I see your point, but are you sure?”

Grey nodded, “Positive.”

“Let’s go check it out then.”

The elementari yanked the Wight’s leash as he headed for the kitchen with Grey not far behind. Grey knew that the soldiers were too busy tending to their friend to even notice, but hopefully the King wouldn’t wake up before he came back. Finally they entered the kitchen and the Wight’s nostrils began to flare. He sniffed the air and tensed. The elementari released him and began to follow.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Why do you have to follow your Wight everywhere it goes?”

“To keep it from attacking the wrong person of course.”

“Wouldn’t splitting up cover more ground?”

“Yes. And?”

“It’ll be faster and easier to find him. And if we find him the same time your Wight does, it’ll be easier to ambush him.”

“I see. Kind of a surprise attack.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok.” He paused to look around, “Where do you think he’s hiding?”

“I think he hid in this direction.”

Grey pointed toward the western area of the kitchen as the elementari sneaked that direction. Grey followed close behind. They passed by an open space that looked like a broom closet, Grey wrapped his hand across the elementari’s mouth and drug him into the closet. He sank his fangs into his neck and watched for the Wight while he enjoyed his meal.

The Wight’s footsteps grew louder as Grey was just about finished. He grew concerned when everything was suddenly silent. He listened and froze in place as he swallowed the last drip of blood the elementari had left in his body. He scanned the area and saw nothing.

Suddenly, the Wight’s face appeared inches from his face, almost causing Grey to jump. The Wight’s blind eyes stared into Grey’s. His nostrils were flaring as if he had finally found the intruder he had been looking for. He began to raise one of his massive claws as Grey dropped the body and abandoned the closet. He drew his sword and slit the Wight’s neck.

Blood shot from its neck, as he struggled to fight back. But he soon bled to death and fell where he stood. Grey then took the bodies and shoved them out the door as he ordered the workers to clean up the mess unless they wanted to die. They nodded and did as he said.

Grey smirked and left the kitchen only to find the King, the royal performers and the soldiers gone. He looked around hoping that they only moved to a different area, but the whole place was empty.