Post by charbeh on Dec 18, 2006 21:04:29 GMT -8
(OOC: sjkshdfdhf tenses! past tense only pleaaase. Also, I am back! wheee. Also very exhausted but that shall pass, I suppose.What is more, flashback time!)
Ashkine woke the following morning and set about putting her affairs in order for the venture she'd volunteered herself for the previous night. Unlike some of her previous escapades, she honestly didn't regret this one when dawn broke and she found herself in a more sober state. A change would do her good. The climate of Silverymoon was getting very stale.
Ashkine was no stranger to intrigue, having been skillfully dipping her fingers into the world of high-level crime in both Silverymoon and Waterdeep, as well as the shady underground city of Skullport, from a tender young age. She had been surrounded by political intrigue throughout her childhood by virtue of her position, and had made a point of learning the ways of the lower class intrigues as well. When her peculiar skill at shapeshifting had manifested itself around adolescence, she had sought out the tutelage of one of the highest ranked and most skilled spies in Faerun. The woman was currently in the guise of a countess, and had taught young Ashkine the skills of an assassin and spy, amongst other equally useful skills. Ashkine did not know why she had agreed to teach her, or even her true name, but perhaps she had seen the promise of what Ashkine would become.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts (never having been a morning person, Ashkine still forced herself to rise with the sun, even after a long night of carousing or other less socially acceptable habits), she dressed in some of her least elegant clothing and set about packing. She certainly didn't trust a servant to know what she would need (even though she was not so certain of that herself, always having traveled in luxury). She packed up clothing she wouldn't have minded having ruined, as well as blankets, her weapons (all small, easily concealable knives and several different lengths of stilletos, usually worn hidden as hair ornaments), her black assassin's gear, along with such trinkets as her enchanted gloves that allowed her to scale even the smoothest of walls, and a field kit she had picked up on a whim one day, not really expecting to need it. She also packed up high court garb, not anticipating having to wear it but liking to be prepared anyway, and a few other useful disguises.
By the time she finished, it was a good deal later, and time for breakfast. She avoided dining with her family (if people who detested eachother so much but had the misfortune of being related could truly be called family) and stopped by the kitchens to grab a bit of bread with butter and honey from the cooks, and ate in the opulent gardens of her familial manor. She spent some time there, admiring the niceness of the day, and waited for the signal to depart. Eventually it came from the coin she had been given the previous night, and she quickly located a pair of servants, telling them to pass the message on that she was going away on business and to fetch her packs from her room.
Arriving at the appointed meeting place, she exchanged a few words with the leader of the venture, who introduced himself as X'uldan and looked as though he thought her completely incompetent. Well, let him then, she thought, knowing the value of being underestimated. The others steadily trickled in, including a hulking mountain of a man, a woman who looked very much like a prostitute, and the bard from the tavern last night. She eyed them with some amusement before speaking.
"I apologize for not introducing myself last night. I am Ashkine De'Sorchen." she said, noting the looks of recognition as she spoke her surname.
Ashkine woke the following morning and set about putting her affairs in order for the venture she'd volunteered herself for the previous night. Unlike some of her previous escapades, she honestly didn't regret this one when dawn broke and she found herself in a more sober state. A change would do her good. The climate of Silverymoon was getting very stale.
Ashkine was no stranger to intrigue, having been skillfully dipping her fingers into the world of high-level crime in both Silverymoon and Waterdeep, as well as the shady underground city of Skullport, from a tender young age. She had been surrounded by political intrigue throughout her childhood by virtue of her position, and had made a point of learning the ways of the lower class intrigues as well. When her peculiar skill at shapeshifting had manifested itself around adolescence, she had sought out the tutelage of one of the highest ranked and most skilled spies in Faerun. The woman was currently in the guise of a countess, and had taught young Ashkine the skills of an assassin and spy, amongst other equally useful skills. Ashkine did not know why she had agreed to teach her, or even her true name, but perhaps she had seen the promise of what Ashkine would become.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts (never having been a morning person, Ashkine still forced herself to rise with the sun, even after a long night of carousing or other less socially acceptable habits), she dressed in some of her least elegant clothing and set about packing. She certainly didn't trust a servant to know what she would need (even though she was not so certain of that herself, always having traveled in luxury). She packed up clothing she wouldn't have minded having ruined, as well as blankets, her weapons (all small, easily concealable knives and several different lengths of stilletos, usually worn hidden as hair ornaments), her black assassin's gear, along with such trinkets as her enchanted gloves that allowed her to scale even the smoothest of walls, and a field kit she had picked up on a whim one day, not really expecting to need it. She also packed up high court garb, not anticipating having to wear it but liking to be prepared anyway, and a few other useful disguises.
By the time she finished, it was a good deal later, and time for breakfast. She avoided dining with her family (if people who detested eachother so much but had the misfortune of being related could truly be called family) and stopped by the kitchens to grab a bit of bread with butter and honey from the cooks, and ate in the opulent gardens of her familial manor. She spent some time there, admiring the niceness of the day, and waited for the signal to depart. Eventually it came from the coin she had been given the previous night, and she quickly located a pair of servants, telling them to pass the message on that she was going away on business and to fetch her packs from her room.
Arriving at the appointed meeting place, she exchanged a few words with the leader of the venture, who introduced himself as X'uldan and looked as though he thought her completely incompetent. Well, let him then, she thought, knowing the value of being underestimated. The others steadily trickled in, including a hulking mountain of a man, a woman who looked very much like a prostitute, and the bard from the tavern last night. She eyed them with some amusement before speaking.
"I apologize for not introducing myself last night. I am Ashkine De'Sorchen." she said, noting the looks of recognition as she spoke her surname.