Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191029114843/@comment-5543592-20191101030041

Elinhir
Kismet was enjoying his breakfast when someone joined him.

“Did he send you?” Kismet asked, leaning over the casserole before himself. It was greasy, laiden with cheese, eggs, and sausage. Some kind of fluid jettisoned out when he stabbed it.

“Yes.” His new breakfast partner was a middle-aged woman, greying hair drawn back, clothing belonging to that of a noble. “He’s been very pleased with your work so far.”

“Oh, please tell him that I’m so pleased that he’s pleased.” Kismet thought the idea that his partner refused to have his name spoken in public ridiculous. The likelihood of someone overhearing was ridiculous.

The woman smiled patiently. Everyone had their own way of dealing with Kismet. Most, the way was fear. Others aggression. Some hid themselves behind the mask of professionalism, as this woman did. A scarce few, the stupid or competent, treated him as an equal. Those were the one’s Kismet respected, although there was a great deal of overlap between them and the people he was hired to kill. How sad.

The woman leaned forwards. “The work in Elinhir is done for the moment. However, because of outside forces, plans are being moved forwards. Our associate is curious what you know of the Elder Scrolls.”

“Ugh, don’t wind up for a lecture. I don’t care.” He waved a casserole laden fork at her. “Stuff like that is boring. Get to the meat of it. Speak plainly.”

“There are people he needs dead.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Most of Hammerfell’s aristocracy is gathering in Hammerfell for the grand council. However, there are two notable exceptions. The first, being the Donna Oleva Nere’id, the woman who has united the pirate fleets of Stros M’Kai beneath her flag. She is waylaid in a conflict with the East Empire Trading Company. You will cause a collapse among her enemy.”

“Oh, an ocean voyage. Romantic.”

“The second of these is the young monarch of Taneth. She is caught up in a vacation of some sort. You will incentivize her to return home, so that she will be summoned to the council instead of her father. Brumanicus cannot be allowed to come to Elinhir.”

“Oh, why’s that? Afraid he’ll bring his Legion? Too many armies’ll spoil the soup, eh?” Kismet snickered.

The woman rose. “Do I need to give you further details? Locations, names--”

“No. No I don’t need those from you.” Kismet looked up at her. “It’s time for you leave.”

She made herself scarce, quickly. The professionals always crumpled, if you applied enough force.

That was true for assassins too. Anyone who did something as their job, really wasn’t dedicated to it. That implied that for you to keep doing the thing you had to be paid. Your skill was dependant on the paycheck. No, it was when you made the thing your hobby, that was when you knew you had a true talent for it.

He forked a heap of casserole into his mouth, chewed expressively. When did something stop being your job, and become your hobby? Well, he supposed it was when you didn't need to do it to work anymore. When you could just do that thing, over, and over, and over again, without any other concerns.