The Worst Kind of Punishment

The Job:

Approval:

He had no proof. He had no real reason, or any real evidence in the slightest. At the very least, not a single admissible and tangible argument in any way to prove it beyond spite. However, there was no way for any person to convince Arsene otherwise: this was a punishment. After his last job with the Chariman, despite all his hard work and effort, ended with a chastise(threat), he didn't expected to receive another job invitation. Rather, the context of receiving it after that made it clear it was anything but an invitation. It was a demand, so of course he accepted it. As he read through the assignment, every part of his body sunk, melted into a wad of disgust and fear. They were going to go into the sewers and kill a rat king? If there was any doubt this wasn't a punishment, it was dispelled as he read through a description straight from his nightmares. He had no idea how anyone in Hidden Blades would know about his dirt aversion, but at this point he also knew better than to question anything inside their knowledge network. The Chairman definitely had found out, and he was definitely leveraging it as a punishment.

Repulsion didn't even begin to describe his emotions as the Troubadour trudged through the dank sewers. Humid, pungent, and grimy at every turn, he feared touching anything in case it might permanently infect him. Hanging close to the mason walls, he avoided the brown stream to his right, pulsing with the remains and excrement of every living soul in Crocus. Maybe, when it was maintained and in it's heyday, this would have been a feet of architectural wonder. At least, the quality seen in the mason walls would indicate that. However, if the maps he had spent the last week putting together said anything, it may have been built well, but it's design was far from it. Twists turns and irrelevant bends plagued every corner, and had he not memorized the layout, he likely would never find his way out of here. Even now, he feared if he lost focus the way out would be lost as well, and he was waiting by the entrance for his partner.

Arsene had thought long and hard about his superiors words. It was true, he lacked experience working with others, and his methods might not mesh well with how others operate. However, wasn't the principle of Hidden Blades that it was made of skilled members? Members who could be trusted to handle their own and keep up their end without you worrying and fretting over their every breath? That debate had raged on inside him this whole time, though it was more a thinly veiled excuse for him to defend his pride. Realizing this, he decided to concede the lost and play as his boss intended. With thorough, detailed communication. To prove this, Arsene had been the one to compile and establish their plan for the job. A 52 page, front and back, written report detailing the job, in his perfect, smallest font. Arsene may have accepted the loss, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a bit spiteful in return. The report was truly a masterpiece; a weeks worth of investigation and research, cross referencing maps made by various local and officials to form probably the most accurate map of the sewers to exist, details on all the know creatures and wildlife inside, plans on how to handle any outcome and multiples ideas for how to structure the job. It was truly his magnum opus, and a great display of his skill as an informant. It may have been partially driven by spite, but Arsene wasn't one to ever pass up an attempt to show off, nor let his emotions lead to shoddy work. Now, he waited in the designated meeting spot, listed on page 33, line 7, detailing the meeting place to discuss going forward with the plan. Of course, he'd memorized the whole report. Leaning against eh wall, he really wondered how sealed off this armor was against bacteria, and what cleaning agents he'd need after it.

WC: 688
Total WC: 688/14,000
@Artemis Dagger

Encompassed by the delightful smell of excrement and decay, with a hint of what was probably too big a mixture of gases to pinpoint a specific one that would explode when sparked, there were no proper words to describe the torment and agony Arsene was suffering in. There was genuine consideration that destroying his nostrils and preventing their use for the rest of his life was worth avoiding breathing it any longer. Even stationary his feet, which supposed to be above the solid stone brickwork laid down when this project first started, seemed to sink into an unidentifiable muck that had swarmed over and taken the ground as it's own. He thought it was mud, or was at least sure enough he'd wager on it, but looking again the odd specks of green and purple brought him to the conclusion that it wasn't worth thinking about any longer, else he risk his own sanity as he fell into the next grime-infested rabbit hole of a game that was "what infection will this cause me down the road". It was quite the eye-opener to himself; to think that this level of filth existed beneath the capital, and how many people survived in ignorant bliss, unaware of the true horrors a tiny stone ceiling saved them from.

The sound of wet, moist footsteps penetrated the unnatural silence of the sewer. That in itself was a mystery to Arsene. Outside of the soft trickle of running water as the sewage slowly drifted by him, there were no noises coming from inside the crumbling masonry. No squeaks of rodents, or scampering steps of scavengers looking for anything remotely useful in nourishing them. As ungodly as this place was to him, he knew from the perspective of rats, mice, and every other creature he'd personally purge from the earth given the chance, it was a personal haven of hiding spots and scraps to feed off. The fact that none were present unnerved him, and it did seem both strange and validating to him: something unnatural about the rodents and other life down here did hint to something being off, and potentially validated the existence of this "Rat King". On the off hand though, not seeing any beady eyes watching them or even existing within the halls made that seem less likely. How can there be a king if there is no kingdom of rodents to rule?

Turning his head to meet the steps that took him from his thoughts, Arsene was greeted with a ray of hope. The Chairman. In most circumstances, seeing him would be a damper on Arsene's day. However, in this case it was a godsend. Now that his company was present, the mission could begin, and he could start to see this hell ending. Internally his was grinning like an idiot, but that was covered by the uniform mask. Pushing off the wall, he found balance in the muck beneath him and mentally repressed the dread caused by his own footsteps, both the sound the made and the feeling beneath his feet. That was the currently goal here; mental repression of today's events and reality through sheer force of will. The role he would play today was a simple one; he was Troubadour, on a mission with his boss, in a clean, simple canal. It was not sewers, it was not dirty, and he was not suffering. Immersing himself in this new persona, he spoke casually and friendly, no hint of strife in his tone. "I'm glad you could make it. As per page 21, line 17, we would meet exactly 18 meters into the tunnel, on the right side of the water, at approximately 10 o'clock. I'm glad to see we're both on the same page here."

He intended to quote that report all day, without remorse. There was no point in memorizing it all if he didn't use it. Besides, while he'd never admit it to another living soul, he did need to work on his communication if he was to succeed going forward. And, after undertaking a job like this on behalf of the guild, he planned to be running it down the road, for nothing else would make this investment worth the cost. Arsene shifted, looking down the canal into the growing darkness, as the brief light supplied from the entrance faded. "I mentioned it on page 53, but I believe he have to be careful about what light sources we use down here. I found traces of multiple gases that cause combustion, and I'd prefer a more glamorous death if I'm honest." Turning back to meet his partner, he stood proud and tall, making sure no signs of doubt or uneasy got through. This was a cut throat place, and his life was on the line with every action he took. He had to make sure he remained both useful and powerful, he had to be an asset. Anything less ran the risk of seeing him disposed of, a threat he'd already received once.

The problem with that though, was the nature of today's job. Arsene knew his strengths; he could infiltrate and assimilate, he could find information no one ever knew, he could fool everyone and perform any role. However, in a fight, none of that matter. He was capable, and he knew how to use his sword, but he was no brawler. Going about a job like this, he had to be an expert assassin; kill the target before they even notice, because if they fight back then things become risky. Deception only gets you so far when there are people in this would who can have a house thrown at them and shrug it off. He'd seen mages battle before, and knew of how those fights went. And he wasn't engaging in that. For now though, first was locating the target. "My map I made is solid, but not perfect. We still have to be careful about getting lost. Stay on the right wall, and never leave it; we'll follow that as our guide to prevent getting off track. It'll be slower, but I don't think we wanna spend the extra timing losing our way here would cost." Starting to move forward, he stepped into a particularly mushy spot, and couldn't contain the visible shiver that overtook his whole being. Turning back to the Chairman, even though his face was covered, the expression of discomfort on his face shown through perfectly. "Also, I request a new uniform after this mission, entirely."

WC: 1,112
Total WC: 1,780/7,000
@Artemis Dagger

Arsene naturally took the lead, having scouted the dank halls beneath the city before, and also having the best memory of the map. Luckily, for reasons unknown to him, the guild master seemed to follow that lead, following behind and taking the rear. That definitely wasn't what he expected, but Arsene was in no place to complain. After all, it made him feel much more comfortable having someone competent at his back. Arsene worked very well as a scout; sneaking ahead and looking for spots of entry and warnings, since he was able to cover large areas by himself and not be seen easily. That was a bit more difficult in the sewers, since it was tight and cramped, with little room to see anything that wasn't directly before you. That wouldn't last forever though; soon the pathways would start to open up and diverge, creating a massive maze of twists and turns, feeding back into itself. Maybe it was a stroke of architectural plumbing genius beyond his understanding, some clever way to manipulate the flow of waste easily and efficiently, but it made exploring it nigh impossible. Arsene was prepared for this, but even then, nothing told them what lurked ahead, and what ambushes would be awaiting them.

With the promise of a fresh uniform in mind, Troubadour tried to ignore the soft squishes and hard, cracking crunches beneath each step. He tried to mentally suppress his imagination at what was covering his heels and toes, at what remains and bacteria were painting his legs. He tried to convince himself that this wasn't that bad, and that it'd be over soon. All ineffective methods that left him squirming inside his metal outfit, wondering with every breath why he didn't check it for bacteria resistance and for leak spots before. There would be hell to pay if any of it actually touched his flesh.

Thoughts of various cleaning protocols and purge procedures on all his belongings were pushed out of his mind as the Chairman spoke again. Arsene paused with the call of his name, noting the guild masters tone. Meeting his gaze, he listened intently, taking in the gravity of the situation. While Arsene was still annoyed at his boss, and enjoyed ruffling his feathers, inside him was still a large amount of respect for the man, as well as the desire to do well in the guild. As such, when the times called for it, he could kill his attitude and give his chairman the respect he deserved. Listening intently, he paused after Artemis finished, processing what he said and analyzing it. In their previous job, Artemis had made no mention of this, which implied it was only sparked by direct magic use. The likely case was that it was some kind of close range spell that blasted the area; in these tight corridors, it would be very hard for Arsene to dodge that, but then again his tone didn't match that. This was something threatening, something that the Chairman clearly couldn't control. It sparked intrigue in the performer, his thirst for knowledge begging for more information, but he had to concede that point. Not the time, nor the place.

"I appreciate the warning. In most jobs like this, it's typical for a partner not to care about the collateral; it clears up a loose end, after all. Time and time again, I'm reminded of the professionalism and forward thinking of this guild, and how I'm an investment rather than a risk." If Arsene wasn't valuable to them, no doubt the chairman would care little for his well being. Despite all of the potential Hidden Blades had to kill him, they had just as much reason to keep him safe. "In that case, I should respect that and make sure to maintain the investment, no? So no worries, I'll make sure to stay clear, hell or high water. I have no intent to die before I've retired, after all. Besides, I don't think this guild could afford the compensation I'd demand if you hurt me." Mostly serious, Arsene's voice perked up at the end, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. He could tell the Chairman wasn't happy with whatever situation he was trying to avoid, so he thought it best to push past those feelings and try to lighten the mood. "After this though, I wouldn't mind going out for some drinks and asking all my questions then. My treat, of course."

Pushing forward again, they soon approached the first break in the hallway. It spread three ways before them, in each cardinal direction. Arsene paused at the wall, clinging close and checking forward for what little he could see before the darkness consumed the halls. The water continued to gush beside them, with a series of small bridges crossing the gap being the only way to the other sides. With a snap, the air around Arsene shimmered and broke, three copies of himself appearing beside him. Without a word, they all took off, one going each way. They all knew their parts, needing no co-ordination from the get go. Turning to the chairman, Arsene stretched a bit. "I'll scout ahead for a few moments here, and see which way looks best. We've no signs of any rats at all, which is a bit concerning. Hopefully I'll see something to lead us forward."

Casually, Arsene leaned against the wall once more, focusing on sorting out the information his clones sent it. Sharing their thoughts and sight, it could be hard to sort between them all at times, especially with how hard it was to see already. The east was a dead end, with nothing noteworthy, the clone shattering as it reach the end. North was stretching forward, so far with nothing of distinct note. As for the West-

Arsene flinched, crumbling slightly off the wall. While he took no personal damage, feeling a clone die was still always a shock. "North is still going forward, nothing notable. East is a dead end. West was attacked and killed. It was attacked by a large rat; it came barreling out of a large crack and got my ankle. My clones aren't very sturdy, so that's not surprising. It's our first sight of anything though, so it looks like west we go?" With another snap, one more clone appeared beside him, taking his spot on the wall to watch as a sentry behind them. Arsene started to move for the bridge, hand on his hilt, waiting for his chairman's response.

WC: 1118
Total WC: 2898

Magic Stuff:

Shattering all of this clones save the sentry behind him, Troubadour lead the way again. This time though, he adjusted his posture. The casual, loose gait he normally had vanished; in it's place was a much different display. Standing tall, still, almost rigid, he made almost no noise with each step. Silently skulking forward, watching for any sign of motion or life. To him, it was all an eerie still now. To match that, he became still himself. Slow, full breaths, both readying and relaxing his muscles. Now, Arsene had to adopt a new role, a new persona; that of the Hidden Blades assassin. A skilled killer, dedicated to taking life without a single wasted moment. While practiced to an extent, this was mostly a foreign role to him. Arsene never hid the fact that he was poor in a fight. Not only did his skills not align with it, he honestly disliked fighting; he disliked killing. Not for any particular moral reasons, but to him it just felt wasteful. Things had more value living. A corpse never made a good pawn to play. Through combination of that belief and his lacking skills, one could count his experiences fighting on one hand.

There was amble experience in escaping. There was a ton of times he maneuvered his way outside of an ambush or a failed heist. Most of that involved avoiding conflict at all costs though. Here, that wasn't an option. No doubt, not only would it look poorly for Arsene if as soon as he saw a rat he ran all the way to Clover Town, but even then that risked the Chairman, albeit in the tiniest of ways. Still though, that was a risk, and your boss dying on a job with you never looked good on a resume. To some, the fact that they were only fighting a rat and not a person was an upside. It's a simple, mindless animal. No matter the size, it would surely be an easy feat. That made this much worse for Troubadour, however. A fighting style that relied on tricking and out maneuvering another person was very ineffective against a large rodent. No ways to really outsmart or outplay it. The encounter would come down to a simple test of strength.

Gripping the hilt of Mirror's Edge tightly, Arsene nodded as the Chairman spoke. Not that he noticed anything himself, but he trusted the Chairman enough to know he was right. Steadying himself, he counted down the ten seconds in his mind. Turning the corner of an ahead tunnel at an unlikely speed, the massive mound of tooth and flesh flew at Arsene. For a small second, one might see what looked like a glitch in reality; as if for Arsene alone time hoped backwards just a second. At first, looking down the beast, readying to draw his sword, his arms seemed to drop slightly, followed by him starting to crouch down. Just as quickly as he started to bend though, he was sudden;y back in his exact previous position, the iconic shimmer of his magic filling the air. Drawing the blade, Arsene shoved it at the rodents mouth and braced himself, taking the brute force of his charge head on, but flocking his teeth and keeping it at bay with his blade. He held it out before him, one hand on the hilt while the other held the top of the blade, resting it's flate side against his palm. After a brief struggle as each attempted to push the other cover, Arsene managed to slide the beat back a bit; enough for him to back step and create some distance.

Seemingly unphased despite having its face smashed by a sword, there was not a trace of damage to the creatures hide or tooth. Arsene had to guard with the dull side, so that was no surprise, but it was still impressive. Moving forward, he lunged at the creature, a downward swipe across it's face. The beast recoiled, sliding backwards to dodge the best it could, but was unable to entirely dodge, the tip of his blade nicking it's face and drawing some blood. That proved that Mirror's Edge was sharp enough to do damage, luckily. Letting out a pained screech, the creature lunged forward at Arsene, forcing him to press against the wall to dodge. Only now did the reality of the creatures size sink it. Standing almost 8 feet tall on all fours, the rat was large enough that it took almost the entire walkway by itself, leaving to Arsene being nearly crushed between it and the wall. A quick jab to it's flank force the rat back again.

The rat was not as apt to let Troubadour have the first move again this time, dashing at him and forcing another side dodge. This time though, it didn't stop after he dodged, instead through itself sideways against the wall and slamming the assassin with it's momentum. Groaning in pain, Arsene felt the wind ripped from him. His lungs felt ablaze, desperate for air, and he struggled to maintain the grip on his sword. Lodged between the wall and the massive rat, it hung slightly above the creatures foot. Forcing all of his strength he had left to his arm, he thrusted Mirror's Edge downward, through the beasts leg. As if cutting paper, the mystical glass slid through the beast and into the stone walkway beneath them. The rat attempted to retreat once more, but found itself unable to, Arsene holding it;s backfoot hostage and locked down. Through desperate breathes, he forced out a sentence. "It's in...."

With that, the air shimmered once more, Arsene appearing out of thin air beside the Chairman. Having replaced himself with his Understudy, a much more durable reflection, and Refreacted himself to be invisible to the rat, it turned all of it's focus to the clone, who worked as a test dummy for Arsene to make sure his plan would work. From Mirror's Edge, 5 copies of itself seemed to pop out, floating in the air around him. Arsene walked forward and the swords flew ahead, each aiming for another of the feet. Quickly, each foot was nailed down by the blades, the extra two going to hold it's tail in place. The rat shivered and squirmed, shrieking in pain, and still trying to crush the understudy, who couldn't take the assault for much longer. Arsene ran to the beast, his sword finding it's way across the rodent's neck before he jumped back. "Mind giving it the finishing touches? Don't worry about my understudy, he's used to dying." Arsene moved towards the Chairman, staring at the ball of demonic energy in his hand and making sure to make his distance.

WC: 1,128
Total WC: 7,041 / 14,000
Personal WC: 4,026 / 7,000

Magic Stuff: