Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191209000634/@comment-5583506-20191211205321

Kashya was sixteen. A grown woman in body and mind, although the training had taken quite a toll on her psyche, leaving her rather cold and apathetic to her surroundings. Her mind was like two warring sides where one part wanted to go on and give a try for the chance of a normal life in the outside world, while the other part was reclusive, distrustful, and cowered in fear of what would happen if she tried. It always ended in a stalemate, where she remained in place at Corinthe Sanctuary.

She failed to pay attention as Do'shanji's fist came sweeping in from the side, slamming against her muzzle. She gave out a dampened moan as she felt nosebleed.

"Attention, Kashya!" Do'shanji growled. "Next time this one will break your nose completely. Maybe fracture your jaw as well just for slacking!"

The warrior monk steadied himself with two raised fists, but she knew well enough that he just wanted for her to draw her attention away from his foot. It had quite the nasty spin to it if you were caught with your guard down.

Kashya blinked and placed one thumb against her right nostril, blowing a string of blood out the other before wiping it off on her arm. Her gaze was fixed on the old cat's golden eyes, watching where his mind went. What was he thinking?

She had been right in not disregarding his footwork. Before she even had taken notice of the fact that he had raised his leg and spun around, his foot was already half a meter away from her face. She narrowly dodged, but it wasn't nearly enough. The foot came crashing into the side of her head and sent her flying backwards.

It hurt quite a bit, and her entire head was ringing with pain and confusion. Yet carried by the momentum she arched her back in mid-air, letting gravity to its work to spin her around entirely as she landed on her feet after a hasty back flip. Whilst Do'shanji was recovering, she charged forward, still somewhat dazed but focused enough to pin-point his weak spots now when his guard was down.

She launched one fist to the side of his jaw, another punch caused severe trauma to his abdomen, making him stagger backwards, and finally she landed the killing blow by sending a clenched fist upwards against his chin; followed by a sudden skip in which she introduced his face to her kneecap. It was quite enough to render the old warrior monk down for the count.

Do'shanji growned from the ground where he was lying. "That's some good moves there, Kashya", he wheezed with a hearty chuckle. "Well fought."

Kashya couldn't fully agree with the statement though. She had simply taken advantage of an opportunity and turned the tables, but she did not walk out unharmed. If she had made a slip somewhere or allowed him just one more punch, then that would have been it. She had taken quite a beating, and if she hadn't found herself a rock wall to lean against she would have collapsed, ending the training in a draw.

Do'shanji grunted as he forced his way up, or at least tried to. He collapsed halfway up and struggled to get back up. "You did some real damage there, girl", he whimpered. "Ah, fuck. Would you get Spits over here with some healing potions? This one doesn't think he will be able to walk for quite some time."

Kashya approached the old Khajiit and lowered herself, letting him rest an arm around her neck and lean over her side. That was the extent of physical interaction she could do. She couldn't stand people touching her if she was unaware of it. A hand on her shoulder, a simple handshake, just an accidental nudge. Anything was quite enough to make her fur stand on end and her skin feel as brittle as charcoal. She didn't know why her childhood experiences from Senchal had made her like that, but reckoned it was just her way to cope. A defense mechanism of sorts.

"Thank you", Do'shanji grunted, cluching to his stomach. "This one has taught you well. Or maybe you just finally decided to surpass this one by coming up with a few tricks of your own."

Kashya said nothing for a while. "You are getting old", she said.

That made Do'shanji laugh. "Old? Old?! Now listen here, you little snot. As soon as this one has recovered Do'shanji will show you that he is far from old by rendering you unable to walk for weeks."

"If you are only able to make this one stay down for weeks then that is indeed a sign of you getting old."

The warrior monk held back another chuckle. Kashya always had that same demeanor of silent determination, even when she cracked jokes, which somehow made it even funnier to him.

She sat him down by a chair in the antechamber. "Thanks, girl", he told her. He then looked up at her. "This one always forgets to ask ..."

Kashya blinked. "Yes?"

"Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?"

Do'shanji sighed, his ears drooping. "Look at you, completely detached from everything and everyone. The outside world, girl. Do you miss it?"

The young woman regarded him for a moment. "No", she said.

He raised his brow. "No? So all that muttering about someone named Kiro in your sleep is just your imaginary friend then?"

Kashya tensed up. "That is none of your concern, old man."

Do'shanji chuckled. In the soft light of the candles the grizzled warrior monk seemed to appear in a less intimidating figure. When he wasn't out on the training grounds, berating and beating his students senseless, he somehow reminded Kashya of Baijan back in Senchal.

"Do not be modest, girl. This one is glad that you hold something dear out there. The Moons knows you need it, considering all the things ..." He fell silent. "Either way, well fought. This one will not go easy on you next time. Expect a couple of broken ribs."

"Expect twice in return", Kashya said with a dignified nod, before she headed off.

She snorted out the blood into the corner of the cave. The Corinthe Sanctuary had been her home ever since her flight from Senchal, and these people, these murderers had been her family. In way it felt good to smear the legacy of her father's name this way. If he only knew that Captain Ka'rin' of the Senchal Lion's daughter had become an assassin he probably would have disassosicated himself from her by ending his own life. Not that there was any need for that. She wondered if he was even aware? Wherever he was now? She had had her brief encounters with his spirit in her very earliest days of training, before he had seemingly drifted away. Maybe he had never haunted her after all? Maybe it had just been her sense of guilt, manifesting itself into her seeing and experiencing things that was really all in her head?

In either case this was her home, but she didn't consider it as such. She could never feel at home anywhere. These people, for all the years she had gotten to know them, were not her family. They never could be. The only place she knew her home was, was with Kiro, wherever he lived. She had been meaning to seek him out, but the fear of showing herself in public had forced her to remain down in the shadows. Instead she had been biding her time, training herself in all the arts available, until she would be ready to meet him again. And maybe just then she could finally be at peace, knowing that he would be there to care for her and protect her, tell her that everything would be alright. Until that happily ever after came, she would continue her training.

From Do'shanji she had learned the Claw-Dances. Laleena had taught her how to change her appearance. Spits-Her-Venom had taught her everything she knew about alchemy and poison-making. Aenlin, the Bosmer, had offered her everything known to man about the arts of stealth; sneaking, pickpocketing and lockpicking. Raavi the Huntress had taught her how to handle a bow.

And then there was the Pahmar-raht twins Daro and Vashirr. Vashirr was the more approachable of the two, gladly teaching her how to handle the kukri short blade. Daro on the other hand ...

"Hello there, sweetness", Daro's raspy voice hissed in the dark as he all of a sudden stood before her, blocking her path.

Kashya blinked, but her expression clearly showed that she did not have the patience with this. "Hello, Daro."

He smiled and leaned over her. Although she was already of short stature, Daro was a Pahmar-raht, and thus completely dwarfed her with his imposing figure. "Have you thought about what this one asked you yesterday?"

"No." That was a lie. She had thought about it, in the same moment she had disregarded it completely.

"Come now, Kashya", he said with a sultry smile. "Is this one really that unbearable? Is the idea of you and Daro together one that really irks you?"

"No", she said again, trying to deflect any notion he might have had.

"Look at you", he said, eyeing her from top to toe. "You are so pretty. A grown woman now. It's not asking much, is it? For you to just consider the idea? Humor this one? This one thinks that he ... that he could be good to you."

Her demeanor softened somewhat at his change of tone, but was immediately disrupted by the sensation of Daro's big hand cupping one of her breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze through her armor.

She gave out a shout of disdain as a rush of aching emotions filled her body, making her feel weak. As if every bone inside of her crumbled to dust, leaving her as just a heap of flesh and fur.

She collapsed to her knees, shaking uncontrollably. "D-don't t-touch me", she whimpered.

Daro however seemed to have something else in mind as he grabbed her by the shoulders, ignoring her shouts of objection, leaned her back against the cave wall and forcefully pressed his lips against hers. Kashya was still shaking, adrenaline was pumping. She wanted to break free, brush him off, but she did not possess any strength whatsoever. It was as if it had left her entirely.

"N-no", she blubbered through his slobbering kisses.

"Kashya", he grunted, intoxicated with lust and seemingly unaware of her refusal. "This one has been longing for this."

"Daro!" a voice commanded from further down the cavern.

Daro broke away from the kiss, swiftly wiping saliva off on his sleeve as he adjusted his pants. "Yes?" he said, putting up his best stoic act in an attempt to hide his obvious eagerness.

Kashya brushed past him and collapsed on her knees again, unable to breathe. Her ribs felt as if they were churning up her insides and her fur felt as if it had caught fire. A cold fire. It hurt everywhere. She felt as she was going to crack and spill out onto the floor like a myriad of pieces.

It was Vashirr who had taken note of what was going on. And though Kashya would have hated to see the spitting image of Daro at this point, she was glad about the intervention. The brothers were ever so similar it was uncanny. The only difference were the tone of their voices. Daro possessed a low, raspy voice that reminded her of slithering snakes, whilst Vashirr's voice was deep and domineering, like distant rolling thunder.

The twin brother's gaze shifted suspiciously from between Daro and the panting girl on the floor, clearly not approving. "Is everything okay here?" It was clear that he didn't condone his younger brother's actions, but nevertheless didn't want to impose or threaten him.

Kashya could only shake her head.

"This one was just ..." Daro smacked with his lips, motioning to Kashya. "He conveyed his feelings, that is all."

Vashirr lowered his brow. "Go convey your feelings in your private chambers." He then looked at Kashya. "Kashya, Celtian is looking for you."

Daro pursed his lips and twisted his face in a grimace of defeat. He didn't want or need this reported to the higher ups, and so reluctantly took his leave.

As soon as he was out of reach, Vashirr cautiously approached. "Are you alright, Kashya? Did he hurt you?"

"This one can't move her legs", she told him.

"Sure, you can. You just need to catch your breath for a while."

Kashya was concerned. Although she knew that Daro had always regarded her with sultry eyes, craving her like a trophy to be claimed since the day she arrived, he had never once laid a hand on her like this before. It had been even more overwhelming than those times in which someone had accidentally laid their hands on her.

As soon as she could stand again, Vashirr motioned with his hand towards the furthest chamber as he followed her by her side. "This one reckon you must hate Vashirr."

She blinked. "Why?"

"Because, this one is Daro's brother. And there is nothing this one can do about him. We do not choose our family, no?"

Kashya lowered her head. "No. This one supposes that is true."

"In either case, this one apologizes on his behalf. He shouldn't touch you again. Do you wish this one to tell Celtian or do you ..."

"No", Kashya insisted anxiously. "This one does not want any further trouble."

Vashirr just nodded, but didn't seem to happy about the difficult situation he found himself in. He loved his brother, but did not want him potentially thrown out of the guild, but neither did he want to see Kashya repressed by Daro's actions. And it wasn't as if he could just turn a blind eye to it altogether. But he had to accept her decision, even though it left quite a foul taste in his mouth.

As soon as they entered the Celtian's quarters, Vashirr was dismissed with a simple gesture of the Breton's hand.

His wet lips gleamed as he smiled at Kashya. "There she is. You have grown, my girl. I have not seen you for quite some time."

It was true. Celtian was more often than not out on some errands and so barely spent any time in the Corinthe Sanctuary. She reckoned it was to be expected of a Speaker. Last time she had seen him had been about six months ago, and even then he had just stayed for two days before he was out and about again.

He invited her to sit. "Come", he said. "And tell me. How many have you killed since last we spoke?"

"Five", she said, taking her seat in the chair, trying her best to hide how flustered she was over Daro's sudden assault.

He nodded approvingly, his hood shifting with each movement. "Good, good", he said. "Good that you have kept yourself busy. The Dread Father works through you."

Kashya didn't believe in Sithis. The other members of the Dark Brotherhood didn't seem to mind her disbelief, as long as she could perform her duties, and that she did. She figured that whether or not this dark figure existed he couldn't care less if one Khajiit didn't believe in him as long as she fed him the souls of those marked for death.

She had started out easy. Slipping poison to the weak and elderly while they were asleep. As she grew older she got ready for more confrontational assassinations, and finally, once she had mastered the glamoured Laleena had taught her, she was ready to perform infiltrations and disguises in which she could come closer to her victims and learn them personally. She reckoned that a younger Kashya would have been worried with just how fast her older self had gotten so comfortable with killing people, but as an older, more experienced woman she knew better than to think of herself from before. That girl was dead. She had killed her just as well as any of these other victims.

"I have come to deliver an assignment", Celtian said. "An assignment for you personally. The client wishes to remain anonymous, but when I learned of the nature of the assignment, I figured that it would be something right up your alley."

Kashya blinked. "Which name is to be silenced?"

Celtian smiled. "There is an artisan living here in central Corinthe, recently moved in from the south. His business is blooming and the client finds the competition to be ... concerning, especially since his own business is steadily losing money. He paid us however quite a hefty sum to bring his customers back ... from the competition. I don't think I need to give you any more details than that, do I?"

Kashya shook her head. "No, you do not."

"Good girl", he said. "This will be good training for you. Find the artisan and give him the gift of perpetual silence. Offer him up to the Dread Father and claim your just reward. When you return, I may have yet another task for you. One of utmost discretion."

Kashya rose up. The meeting had been brief, but sufficient. There were no further words that needed to be said between them. Celtian had given her an assignment and she had accepted. Now all that was needed was to make the proper preparations. Another name had been marked...