The paper crinkled in his hands. Cetus stared at the dossier page in disbelief. She was fucking with him. She had to be. This must be payback for his accent or his lack of involvement in that one mission. There were few other logical connections to this insult. He was an assassin, not a darkness-damned thief! Yet here was a dossier telling him that there was only one death allowed. Not to mention that death had to look like an accident. All to steal a damnable new cracker recipe. That wasn't his way. He killed anyone who was in the wrong place and time. Cetus spun and threw the dossier in the fire. Only one or two pages were kept in his grasp. It was inconceivable that Hidden Blades would take a job from some cracker factory. It was a jest. A joke on his behalf because of his atrocious accent.
He stood in a small cabin. It was one room with a fireplace. Nothing adorned the walls or the floor. There was no furniture to be seen. For all intents, it appeared abandoned. It was one of many safehouses Cetus had set up. What most people didn't know was that one section of floorboards came up. Underneath was a cache of weapons, armor and useful gadgets. It also served as a nice hiding place should that be needed. It stood on the outskirts of Rose Garden. That was where the Banisco factory lay. Cetus ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around. What to do? What to do?
There were several ways he could pull this off. Disguising himself was only one possibility. That would allow him to sneak into the facility and then back out again. With the Hidden Blade magic ring, it'd be rather easy. Potentially. If the business was as cutthroat as the dossier said, magical disguises likely would be detected in some way. Then he'd have to fight his way out. Not something he wanted to do. More than one would die and his cover would be blown. Another way would be to fight his way into the facility. Again a risky proposition. Many deaths, cover blown, potentially not even obtaining the recipe. A third option was providing a distraction. Maybe many distractions to facilitate easier access and exit.
He had the tools for the last plan. It was logically the best plan he had. Given the success of the magical storm he'd created in Talonia, it would help immensely. Cetus decided to try that in conjunction with another plan. As he armed for the job, the assassin slipped the disguise ring over his finger. Now creating a distraction where no one got killed would be a problem. There was the argument that anyone outside the factory was fair game. However, the dossier had been very clear. Only one death and it had to look like an accident. Otherwise, there would be no payment. Not to mention the client would wash his hands of the whole thing. Cetus couldn't take chances with that. No matter how logical it seemed to do so.
The shark-man descended into his cave. This stash was standard with various weapons stored about the room. Steel lined lacrima walls stood behind the weapons. Armor was another floor down along with useful items. A table stood in the center of the room here. That was what Cetus needed most. The map that had been spared from the fire was spread out onto the table. Next to it was a map of the various cracker convoy routes. Using this information, Cetus planned to set up his distraction to delay one of the convoys. That coupled with a potential threat to the convoy would hopefully result in one of the entrances being left unguarded. Even if it didn't, it would scare the guards and make them less likely to do their job properly.
Setting a building on fire would work. Provided the building was empty, it would fall within the lines of his job. If a bit of burning rubble hit the road the convoy was supposed to take, who was to say it wasn't an accident. It irked him that they were working for a chivalrous person. What did Mister Kelf think they did here at Hidden Blades? More to that matter, why wasn't this job being handed to a newbie? This was like a hazing ritual for a senior member of the guild. There was no logic in choosing Cetus to deal with such a menial task. The assassin shook his head. No time to dwell on the thoughts of illogical monsters like Esper. Better to simply prepare for the mission. There was much to do.
Cetus gathered a few needle weapons. Each had a paralytic or sleeping agent applied to their needles. It prevented anyone from dying while allowing him to remove those that got in his way. A lacrima grenade filled with sleeping gas was also added to the collection. The assassin slipped on his handguards. With the restriction of one kill - and that had to look like an accident - his hands needed to be covered. His special skin caused bleeding with one wrong touch. If he was fighting seriously, his opponents would probably die from blood loss. Also not within the parameters of his job. Implosion devices were clipped to his belt. Each had a limited blast area to prevent any deaths. As the assassin finished securing everything into place, he took one last look around the armory. Nothing more was needed for this job other than fast transportation.
Transportation happened to be rather close by. Cetus descended once again. Set into this room's west wall was a door. The door led into a garage that was filled with Cetus' various vehicle projects. These babies took much longer to complete since it wasn't his area of expertise. He tended to make them too heavy or too light. The lacrima powering them tended to burn out. For this job, he chose to use his masterpiece. The Shark was a black motorcycle with a closed top. It pushed 400 MPH when it was opened up. It was also capable of short flights. Twin machine guns were hidden along the body. When popped out, they could create a barrage of bullets for several minutes. Cetus had tried to install a rocket at one point. That hadn't ended well. The bike sitting here was technically the Shark 3.7. He hoped this mission wouldn't create cause for making a Shark 4.0.
WC: 1092
He stood in a small cabin. It was one room with a fireplace. Nothing adorned the walls or the floor. There was no furniture to be seen. For all intents, it appeared abandoned. It was one of many safehouses Cetus had set up. What most people didn't know was that one section of floorboards came up. Underneath was a cache of weapons, armor and useful gadgets. It also served as a nice hiding place should that be needed. It stood on the outskirts of Rose Garden. That was where the Banisco factory lay. Cetus ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around. What to do? What to do?
There were several ways he could pull this off. Disguising himself was only one possibility. That would allow him to sneak into the facility and then back out again. With the Hidden Blade magic ring, it'd be rather easy. Potentially. If the business was as cutthroat as the dossier said, magical disguises likely would be detected in some way. Then he'd have to fight his way out. Not something he wanted to do. More than one would die and his cover would be blown. Another way would be to fight his way into the facility. Again a risky proposition. Many deaths, cover blown, potentially not even obtaining the recipe. A third option was providing a distraction. Maybe many distractions to facilitate easier access and exit.
He had the tools for the last plan. It was logically the best plan he had. Given the success of the magical storm he'd created in Talonia, it would help immensely. Cetus decided to try that in conjunction with another plan. As he armed for the job, the assassin slipped the disguise ring over his finger. Now creating a distraction where no one got killed would be a problem. There was the argument that anyone outside the factory was fair game. However, the dossier had been very clear. Only one death and it had to look like an accident. Otherwise, there would be no payment. Not to mention the client would wash his hands of the whole thing. Cetus couldn't take chances with that. No matter how logical it seemed to do so.
The shark-man descended into his cave. This stash was standard with various weapons stored about the room. Steel lined lacrima walls stood behind the weapons. Armor was another floor down along with useful items. A table stood in the center of the room here. That was what Cetus needed most. The map that had been spared from the fire was spread out onto the table. Next to it was a map of the various cracker convoy routes. Using this information, Cetus planned to set up his distraction to delay one of the convoys. That coupled with a potential threat to the convoy would hopefully result in one of the entrances being left unguarded. Even if it didn't, it would scare the guards and make them less likely to do their job properly.
Setting a building on fire would work. Provided the building was empty, it would fall within the lines of his job. If a bit of burning rubble hit the road the convoy was supposed to take, who was to say it wasn't an accident. It irked him that they were working for a chivalrous person. What did Mister Kelf think they did here at Hidden Blades? More to that matter, why wasn't this job being handed to a newbie? This was like a hazing ritual for a senior member of the guild. There was no logic in choosing Cetus to deal with such a menial task. The assassin shook his head. No time to dwell on the thoughts of illogical monsters like Esper. Better to simply prepare for the mission. There was much to do.
Cetus gathered a few needle weapons. Each had a paralytic or sleeping agent applied to their needles. It prevented anyone from dying while allowing him to remove those that got in his way. A lacrima grenade filled with sleeping gas was also added to the collection. The assassin slipped on his handguards. With the restriction of one kill - and that had to look like an accident - his hands needed to be covered. His special skin caused bleeding with one wrong touch. If he was fighting seriously, his opponents would probably die from blood loss. Also not within the parameters of his job. Implosion devices were clipped to his belt. Each had a limited blast area to prevent any deaths. As the assassin finished securing everything into place, he took one last look around the armory. Nothing more was needed for this job other than fast transportation.
Transportation happened to be rather close by. Cetus descended once again. Set into this room's west wall was a door. The door led into a garage that was filled with Cetus' various vehicle projects. These babies took much longer to complete since it wasn't his area of expertise. He tended to make them too heavy or too light. The lacrima powering them tended to burn out. For this job, he chose to use his masterpiece. The Shark was a black motorcycle with a closed top. It pushed 400 MPH when it was opened up. It was also capable of short flights. Twin machine guns were hidden along the body. When popped out, they could create a barrage of bullets for several minutes. Cetus had tried to install a rocket at one point. That hadn't ended well. The bike sitting here was technically the Shark 3.7. He hoped this mission wouldn't create cause for making a Shark 4.0.
WC: 1092