Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Sandstorm Sins [sinfulrook and I]

Captain Island

Captain Island

Planetoid
Joined
Nov 24, 2010
Location
The superior, almighty WEST COAST.
Adara Dhakir weaved through the masses of Persians, the scorching noon desert sun beating down upon the marketplace. Noises of animals, of cartwheels creaking by and of merchants calling out merchandise echoed throughout the bazaar. The woman ran through the crowd, skillfully guiding her way through the mazelike city under her robes, which tactfully disguised her face and body. Still, she was able to move around effortlessly, and the fabric was thin and a light, peach color. Her golden skin stood out against her flowing dark hair. Strapped to her thigh was a steel dagger, the metal warm from her body heat.

She had a mission to finish, and that was to murder her greatest enemy and his leader. The Arabs were at war with the Persians, and she was to terminate their greatest assassin. It was said that he rivaled her skills -- but that, she'd have to see for herself. Adara had been trained by the Arab priestesses, skilled in the deadly arts. Once the sun would set, she'd locate her target and confront him. In the meantime, she'd have to check either the palace or the temple. Where would an assassin hide?

Adara sprinted through the back alleys of Persia, before finally reaching the rear wall of the palace gardens. She gaged the wall, before scaling it and climbing over the top. It was then that she decided she'd assassinate the king first. Get rid of the easiest task then leave her focus on the challenge.
 
(came up with that on the spot! I never have ideas for names! XD)
Drassir Mikal was guarding the king, just like dozens of soldiers were. He was in the darkest corner possible, his dark brown cloak making him nearly invisible at where he was hiding. He could easily move around from one side of the palace to the other without being noticed, it was his specialty, that is why he was the best assassin in the land, or at least was until he heard news of Adara Dhakir.

The news of this assassin came a few weeks back when a spy had come back after a two year long espionage, saying this woman has killed every last target within a few days of assignment! Knowing this, Drassir had to be careful, thinking of every possible point of entry she could use. He decided to check outside, scaling out the window silently and onto the rooftops, scanning the area.

The royalty knew that the assassin would be coming any day for the king and Drassir. Drassir didn't care if someone came after him, he knew how to defend himself well enough against other assassins and even soldiers. After a while, he saw the assassin scaling a wall from behind the palace, then quickly disappeared back inside and silently walked up behind the king's throne, whispering. "She has arrive your majesty... Do not fear, if all goes well, we will only lose a few men." He told the king and after the king nodded he had walked out the front of the palace, his cloak making him look like a common man who had just had a chance at audience with the king, and his face completely hidden.
 
{( Haha awesomesauce. It's not a bad name either. Rather sexy, I should say. (x )}

With a sharp intake of breath, Adara felt chills running down her spine. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched, but she shrugged it off and sprinted through the garden, using the many fruit trees as a cover. The woman even made a mental note to eat some later, as a reward for murdering the king. The assassin reached the entrance to the palace, and creeped up to behind some rosebushes twenty feet away from the guards. Pulling out throwing needles, she held them between her fingers before flinging them at each guard, enjoying the sight of them drop to the floor clawing at their eyes and necks.

Adara moved on, stepping over the incapacitated and now useless guardsmen as she entered the palace with easy. At this point, she understood that security would be heightened, and that she'd have to make careful note of where she could be seen. There was a highly likely chance that her rival would be waiting for her. The thought of someone equal to her skills unnerved her. What would he be like? Would he be ruthless yet merciful, and end her life shortly, should he be able to defeat her?

No, Adara wouldn't let such a thought happen. She managed to successfully stalk past the servants and priestesses, and arrived in a large, grand hallway, where at the end of the corridor the throne room was located. In all likeliness, like a sitting duck, the king would be awaiting her there. She shook her head and couldn't help but smile. With men, it was so easy to predict their movements, decisions and plans. One simply had to know the right skills to attack with ease.
 
((Hehe why thank you ^^))
Drassir saw the assassin sneak around the bushes, realizing nobody else has seen her. He slowly took his dagger out from his side, almost literally glued to his ribs from this heat, and silently followed her inside. He loved watching those miserable guards drop, but it was time to be more serious, she was nearing the throne room with such ease. Once she had reached it, he snuck up behind her and quickly disarmed her and restrained her, with just his one arm, his dagger against her throat.

"Speak and you shall be murdered by my blade." He whispered to her and hid with her for a little bit. He held her restrained and talked to her. "My plan worked perfectly... And you fell for the trap." He told her and gently pressed the dull end of the blade against her neck. "Tell me, did you really think I was foolish enough to let you just walk in here?" He asked her, awaiting her response, toying a little with her.

For some reason, he felt strange. She was a woman, an assassin, and she matched his skill. Somehow he was wondering what she was like outside her work, but that didn't break his focus one bit.
 
((Forgive me, I'm changing it to Persian because Babylonian has too many syllables. Makes the syntax sound weird for me.))

The assassin took a step forward, just before she was caught in a deadly embrace. She reached up and put a hand on his arm around her neck, pulling it away from her just enough to try to keep her breathing. He was strong, and she was starting to struggle to breathe.

"It takes a lot more to kill me, you damned Persian," she hissed, digging her nails into his skin. Adara gritted her teeth, and yet she couldn't help but smirk as she saw the dull end pressed into her neck. "So, you have me in your grasp. What are you going to do with me now, kill me?" The woman's eyes flashed menacingly, although he couldn't see it from the way she was positioned.

With one fluid motion, she took her left elbow and rammed it into his stomach, up into the diaphragm.
 
((That's alright, I prefer Persian over Baby lonians xD))

Drassir suddenly lost his breath, and cringed a little, but he still had his grasp on her, the blade not at her neck anymore. As he caught his breath, he pushed her out into plain view onto the floor and pinned her to the floor, the guards instantly surrounding them. The king stood and approached the two of them with a grin.

"Well done Drassir, you shall be rewarded well for you deeds." The king spoke and soon had the assassin arrested, Drassir following them all down to the prison deep below the castle. As the guards threw her in a cell, Drassir stood outside of it, watching her. "Tell me Assassin, is your name not Adara?" He asked her demandingly.
 
With a cry, she felt her body slammed onto the floor, her head hitting the stones hard as the world started to spin. Everything else had been a blur. The king approaching her, being dragged to the damp, dank and dungeons below, and then thrown into a filthy cell that stank of rotting death. Other prisoners were heard moaning and lamenting; while she remained silent, curling up and hugging her knees as she passed from the hit to her head.

A few hours later, she was awakened by the guards and Drassir, and Adara looked up, her face unreadable but most definitely tired.

"My name, I will not disclose to you. You have no need of my name if you wish to kill me." she stood up and walked to the bars of her cell, her face inches from his. Her hazel, almost golden eyes studied his own, analyzing his expression, which remained pretty much expressionless.

Adara smirked, and crossed her arms. "So you are Drassir the Persian, Drassir the Assassin, and Drassir the Silent Killer. Oh yes, I have heard so much about you. It is on everyone's lips these days, everytime I enter the tavern it is Drassir this and Drassir that. You bastard, what is it that you have that makes everyone love you!" she finally ranted, spitting in his face to punctuate her small speech.
 
Drassir stood there and listened to the Arab rant at him, chuckling. "I guess the commonfolk tongue is rather loose." He said with a grin and wiped the spit off his face. "We already know about you and your work Adara." He said and motioned with his left arm for the spy to come in and show his face to her. "Remember this man? The one who had spent a few years as an assistant to the king?" He said and laughed. "Nothing but a mere spy, getting every last detail on you and your king." He said and then let the spy go, then asked the guards for some time alone with the female assassin.

Drassir looked at her and examined her thoroughly. "Listen to me carefully... If you ever want to escape alive, you have to swear on your life you will not speak of what I am about to say to you." He whispered so that no other prisoners could hear him, only her. "While you were passed out, the guards searched every last bit of you and disarmed you completely, and before throwing you in here, I managed to slip a lockpick into one of your shoes." He told her with that same whisper, looking away. "At night, only one guard stands by the outer door of the dungeon, do not let him see you, he will alert everyone in an instant. Once you manage to make your escape, make your way to the east, towards the market, we shall meet in an alley near the blacksmith to talk more." He told her and stood back up to look at her one more time. "Don't mess this up Adara." He said and with that, he turned and put his hood on, wrapping the cloak around him and walking out of the dungeon and to the market.
 
Adara sneered at the spy, recognizing him from her own court back in Saudi Arabia. She had had a few suspicions, but since he was the king's favorite, she had no choice but to leave him alone... now the woman sorely wished she hadn't.

The assassin watched Drassir leave, with a look half-discerning and half with contempt on her face. Is he... helping me? she thought, questioning whether this was some sort of set-up, or a trick. As soon as he was out of sight, Adara reached into her shoe and pulled out a lockpick, impressed at the man's reliability so far. Still, she would have to keep her guard up-- never let her walls down for a minute. If doing so, it could cost her her own life.

Quietly she left her cell, the rest of the prisoners fast asleep or already on the hallucinations of starvation. None would see her creep by as she escaped. With stealth, using the darkness to aid her Adara hid in the shadows, the only guard in the dungeons pacing back and forth by the exit out. As he turned to walk away from her position, she took the opportunity to leap forward and catch him in a rear headlock. It was a struggle, she had to admit, but nonetheless the assassin was able to break his neck and leave him there to die.

As she found herself running from the palace into the city, Adara turned east towards the bazaar. The chill of nightfall contrasted to the adrenaline coursing through her veins, heating her body with every step she took. Soon she heard the sounds of the blacksmiths working on their metal. Of course, the night was young and the city was still bustling with singing from the taverns.

The assassin found the closest alley from the blacksmith (it was behind a tavern), and waited for Drassir to make an appearance. He shouldn't let her down.
 
Drassir had been waiting for only a little while, hidden completely amongst the shadows, as if he was a demon with powers that were completely inhuman.

Once he heard someone enter the alley, he knew it was her, since nobody ever had gone back here. It was completely secluded and dark, and so he made his move. "You came Adara..." He said quietly, slowly walking up from behind her, a few meters away from her, walking slowly towards her.

"Glad to see you're alright." He told her and removed his hood, looking at her with a blank expression. "Tell me, has your king ordered to kill both the king and me as well?" He asked her sternly, looking away from her to keep his focus. There was something about her that bothered him. He couldn't kill her because she was a female, and she was the only female to reach his skill level.
 
Adara quickly spun on her heel to face him, wondering how the hell he could appear at the shortest notice. It was almost as though he weren't human! Her eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion.

"Yes..." she said slowly, taking a step closer to him. She wanted to study his face, read behind that blank mask he kept on so well. There was something he was hiding, and like a fool Adara wanted to unleash it, whatever it was. "Why do you ask? Of what interest would it be to you?"

When Drassir mentioned before that he was glad to see she was all right, Adara stiffened. If he was trying to offer pity for anything, she wouldn't take it.
 
Drassir looked at her and still kept his blank face on. "You do realize I could've killed you when we first met." He said to her and looked down at her face. "I didn't do so because you are the only one to ever reach my skill level supposedly... All I wish is to let you be free and expand those skills, work for the people, and not for the royalty." He said and pulled out a piece of paper, almost like a contract.

"The best assassins across the land have signed this contract, and we only need one more to complete our guild of assassins." He said and showed her the names of the assassins, even his own was on it. "Sign it, and you shall be free, free from those fat bastards that sit on their thrones, unable to do anything by themselves. You live by your own lifestyle, only obeying the person at the top, taking orders from only him." He said and then looked away. "And that person is me, and I would like you to join us and rule with me by my side." He blushed a little and his blank face had now faded, a small smile spreading across his face, not in an evil way.
 
It was when Drassir looked down at her, did she realize that he almost towered over her. Adara realized then that it was possible for him to have killed her before. The thought sent chills down her spine.

She couldn't help but let out a smirk. "Supposedly your skill level? I guess we'll have to decide who's the better one." But as he continued, her brows furrowed. He was asking her to leave her boss and join his guild of rogue assassins. Taking this step would turn her world upside down, but the thrill of real adventure -- not doing slave work for some master -- excited her to the core.

Adara felt herself reaching for the paper, as if her subconscious was already eager to sign her current life away. "Rule with you?" she said, the thought a little unnerving. The woman was so used to a solitary life. She noticed his small smile, and smirked a little. Although for an entirely different reason, as she took this as arrogance. "I'm not going to work for you. I'm going to work for myself, and myself alone." She said.
 
Drassir looked at her and wiped his smile instantly, holding the paper still, but pulling it back from her. "Wait Adara, you misunderstood... You and me will be equals, you will be able to order others around just as equally as I will." He told her honestly, the honesty gleaming in his eyes. "I would not let someone of equal skill be a lesser being. Everyone will be able to do as they please, but assassinations will be strictly issued from me and you." He said to her one more time.

He reached his hand over to her with the paper, waiting for her to take it. He really wanted to escape this slave work, constantly having to do assassinations just for the king. He'd only have one day off every few full moons that did not involve him spying or blending in with the crowds, waiting until he could hit his mark.
 
Adara pondered over this thought, to be able to have such power. Not that she wanted power, but she did like the thought of rising above the numbskulled tyrants she despised so much. A world meant for her... and well, him. It would take some getting used to, but she rather liked the idea. Adara took the paper from him, her hand brushing over his. She still felt that he was hiding something, and so the woman tensed at the touch, almost as if she expected him to strike her. But he didn't, and so she continued doing as she did before.

"You mentioned other assassins and a guild," she said, looking up into his eyes. "How many of us are there?" Adara questioned, reaching up to brush the hair out of her face. Goosebumps ran down her bare arms, and she began to shiver, trying to ignore the cold.

The assassin tried to imagine a life before her current one. She couldn't remember any face, any memory of a mother or a father. Once again, Adara yearned for some end to her solitary life. Perhaps a brotherhood of assassins would end that. She wouldn't object to that, it would be different -- like having a family... Family. The word felt so foreign to her, and yet, it felt like something she could reach and hold dear to her heart. But she scoffed at the idea... assassins? Family? As if. It wasn't possible, it was a contradiction.
 
Drassir pointed at the signatures down on the paper near the bottom. "There are currently nine of us, you will make ten." He told her and watched her shiver when she brushed her hair. He slowly took off his cowl and went over to her, wrapping it around her, his scarred arms showing easily in the moonlight.

He had gotten the scars from other assassins who had tried to kill him, but he was much too perceptive and agile for anyone to kill him. He was even heard the nickname 'Angel of Death' when he killed someone rather skilled, but not as skilled as him.

This guild was going to be a stepping stone in his life, it was going to change him from obeying and being a slave to the law, to destroying the corrupted law and setting the royalties straight and peaceful. That's what this guild was going to be about... Restoring peace to the land that was once forgotten.
 
That's not such a bad idea, Adara said to herself, looking over the names. She was quickly adjusting to the idea of a new life, without chains and in turn she'd be gaining all the freedom in the world. The assassin tensed when Drassir put his cowl around her. She glanced at him with a strange look on her face, but then became distracted by his scars. They almost seemed to crisscross over his arms, which peaked her interest. Scars always interested Adara, for there was always a story behind them... and for an assassin such as Drassir, there was bound to be an epic lying right under those scars.

"I will sign," she finally said, after some thought. This was it, and Adara had no regrets now, as she grew used to the idea. This was going to be an adventure, of a kind that only the storytellers weave. In the moonlight, her determined face shone, her golden eyes gleaming with a lust for freedom. To the world she'd finally be known as the greatest assassin... with Drassir's help, of course. She had to give him some credit, after all he did save her. Adara couldn't help but despise him just a bit. Although they were in this together, he was a Persian, and Persians... no, she wouldn't even let herself have thoughts about that. Chills ran down her spine, and she suddenly wished they could move to a warmer place, where she could think more clearly.

"Come, we need to find a place for tonight," Adara suggested, turning to leave the alley. Sounds of drunken singing echoed to the back of the taverns where they were, and the smell of warm alcohol created an almost insatiable hunger and thirst.
 
Drassir had a gleam of excitement in his eyes when she finally signed the paper with her name. After taking the paper back, he rolled it up and put it away, completely out of sight from anyone's eyes. "Let's go rent a bed for the night, I'll buy us some food and drink as well." He offered her and then put the hood of the cowl on her, leaning in closer to her. "You must not let anyone see your face, almost every trader and salesman has seen your face and knows you're an enemy to them." He had told her with a whisper and then walked a bit past her, turning his head back to her. "Come on."

He led their way out of the alley, most of the people greeting Drassir and telling him good job with the Arab assassin. He smiled at the people, but the samile was beyond fake, it was so cold and dishonest, any man that knew how to gauge reactions would realize that wasn't a normal smile. Somehow though, he felt real emotion when he was near Adara, and he hasn't show any emotion to anybody since he was trained to kill.

After finally approaching a more decent tavern, he went inside, making sure that Adara was close behind him. Once inside, he went to the bar and talked to the owner, renting out a room and then motioning Adara to follow him once more. He led her up to their room, opening the door slowly and then shutting it once they were inside.
 
Adara cocked a brow at his statement. She didn't object to the food and drink, but to rent a bed? Nonetheless, she didn't voice out a protest. It wasn't as thought she had any, maybe later there would be, but for now all that was on her mind was to grab a drink, have a bite to eat. To her, it was amazing how someone's entire mentality could change after going a few days without food. The woman followed him into the tavern, and observed the way people treated him with respect and honor. It was almost as though he was a hero among the commoners, but she scoffed the idea away. An assassin akin to that of those English Robin Hood tales? It didn't seem likely.

"You seem to have a way with people," she said, smiling under the disguise. "Tell me, what exactly is the secret to this charm of yours?" Adara was humoring Drassir, but she wondered if she had ever used his charisma to gain access to what he wanted. After his negotiations with the innkeeper, Adara decided that was the answer to her question. Following him up to the room, she grew tense and put her guard back up, wondering what was to happen now.

"I thought were were going for some food and a drink." Adara said, with a smirk.
 
Drassir went to look out the window, climbing out of it a little to look around to make sure there are no others stalking them, then went back inside and stood across the room from her. "I first needed this room so that we could have a safe night, what would you like to eat?" He asked her and started heading over to her, heading for the door mainly.

He stopped by her and looked at her slowly. "The reason people treat me so well is because I've done work for them, simple work, to repent for my sins." He told her before he left, hearing what she wanted before he left, going down to get them both some food and drinks, coming back up about ten minutes later with both his and her food.

Something wasn't right, there was always someone following Drassir at night, and he knew it. This seemed too simple to just talk to an enemy of the land. He set the food down next to her and then checked outside again, not seeing anybody once more.
 
"A safe night?" she questioned, tilting her head in curiosity. "Why would there be a need for safety?" Adara knew it. So there was something he was hiding, and she was determined to know. The woman was ready to voice her question, but just then her stomach growled, and she relented this once.

"I just want a pomegranate," she said, trying to remember the foods in Persia. Although she craved Arabian foods, Adara wanted heartier meals, rather than the light dishes back home. "Maybe some of your Persian khoresht would be nice too." The woman added weakly.

As she waited for the food, she quickly checked her surroundings. A cool breeze wafted in from the open window to the left side of the room, bringing in the scent of warm spices. The aromatic smell made her nearly swoon in her hunger, and so Adara took a seat on the bed -- nothing more than bedrolls on the floor. The sheets and pillows were soft, considering her only bed the past few nights was the rough desert sand. Immediately she ached for a bath, but she would have to wait.

That smells absolutely delicious. she thought, watching Drassir come back bearing gifts of food. "Thank you." Adara said uneasily, still getting used to the fact that they had gone from enemies to friends so quickly. It still felt so surreal. Trying not to devour her food, the assassin looked up, observing him check outside the room. "What is it? Is there someone out there?"
 
Drassir came back inside and shook his head. "No, but I have this feeling we're being followed." He told her, then went over and sat a little bit away from her, taking his food and eating slowly. "We eat, spend the night here, and then during the daytime we make our way to our new stronghold." He explained to her with a whisper.

As he at slowly, he caught himself glancing over at her, not realizing how striking she looked. He wondered if he should take a bath, since he hasn't in a few days, reeking of sweat and blood. "I think I'll ask for a bath after I finish eating." He said to her and took another bite of his food, glancing out the window, thinking he saw something.

Perhaps he was just being paranoid, he was so used to being followed at night by some random rookie assassin, but it seems that tonight was different. He soon finished up his food and stood up, looking at her. "If you need a bath tell me now, this tavern has plenty of baths." He told her and began walking.
 
"All right, I take it we leave first thing at dawn?" Adara nodded in understanding as she spoke, taking a dagger and slicing it into the pomegranate. She broke one of the halves, releasing the juicy seeds. Taking a small handful, she dropped them into her mouth, relishing the sweet liquid, droplets running down her chin. The taste was amazing, and as Adara closed her golden eyes, she licked her lips, savoring the flavor.

The woman felt chills emanating from the back of her neck down to the bottom of her spine. It was that eerie feeling of eyes upon her back, and she couldn't resist opening her eyes and turning to look behind her, only to find no one there. Glancing at Drassir, she plopped the last of the seeds in her hand on her tongue, chewing slowly and delighting in the sticky substance running down her throat.

"Of course, thank you for telling me that," the woman said, standing up and walking after her companion. She wondered if the baths were divided into two separate ones, or if they would be forced to share just one. In that case, Adara pursed her lips in amusement as she blushed. Back at home, the baths were strictly segregated between priestesses and priests, although it was possible that the Persians had a different lifestyle.
 
Drassir went back down to the owner and asked for two bath tokens, and so he received them for a cheaper price, the owner knowing Drassir for a long time. He led Adara to where the baths split into three sections, one for men, one for women, and the one in the middle for both men and women. "Shall we go our own separate ways?" He asked the Arab assassin, knowing she will most likely deny going in with him, but it was worth a shot.

Drassir's scars weren't sensitive to water, but if it was salt water it would be painful. What scars Adara hasn't seen were the ones on his chest, none on his back or legs. As he waited for an answer, a child ran up to him and stared at the scars, Drassir looking down at the child and noticing him staring. He crouched down in front of the child and turned one of his arms to him. "It's alright, you can touch them if you want, they don't hurt anymore." He told the child with a rather small smile, and the child eagerly touched it. "Wow mister, those are so weird and so awesome!" The child said with a big happy smile and then ran back to his father. Drassir stood up and looked at the child run away, then looked at Adara.
 
Adara glanced around the baths, taking note of the details in the mosaics and tiles. Persians were different in their artistic styles, but nevertheless it was pretty. Instantly the Arab was reminded of home, where lush plants tumbled into the temple baths, the scent of sweet fruit and flowers filling the air. At first, Adara was homesick, absentmindedly walking towards the women's baths, until she was interrupted by a little boy talking to Drassir.

She stopped, and watched as the assassin showed a side of him she had never seen in the short time they had been together. Blinking, Adara noticed the scars against his tanned skin, the muscles in his arms and soon she found herself wondering if there were any more of them hiding underneath his clothes. The woman turned red, wondering why such thoughts had entered her mind.

"We could take this one," she said, pointing at the middle section without much thought, instantly realizing she shouldn't have said it. She looked away, her cheeks growing hot. But what was said was done, and Adara supposed she had no choice in the matter anymore.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom