Taedrinnar

((I'm considering posting the rest of the story and just running with it. I'll know by later Sunday. Stay tuned for more!)

Hey! Haha, well, the first story is up. Feel free to get involved if you like, either in thread or in game. http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=8259

((Law enforcement, Criminals, curious citizens! Feel free to investigate this crime, or interact in this story!)) His hands were still shaking. Sure, he was on his way to kill someone, but that wasn't why. He was about to break into a very secure manor filled with guards and dogs, but that didn't cause the unsteadiness. No, it was worse. He had run into her on the way there. To think, he had actually had a conversation with the woman who was both his bane and his desire. Like a moth, having a friendly chat with the flame. He had to get this out of his head. There was a job to be done, and an archer with unsteady hands hit no mark. Taedrinnar took a deep breath and ducked into a nearby alley. The Elezen slipped out of his minstrel's clothing and into his dark leathers, finally dawning the mask he had worn for so many years. This is the cure. Taedrinnar can not control himself, but the Ashen Archer can. Become someone else, something else. Focus on the job and nothing more. He reached into his shirt, pulling several Ashen arrow shafts that had been sown into the back of his minstrel's garb. It took only a few moments to affix pointed steel heads and drop them into his quiver. The wildwood took another deep breath before starting off for his mark's home. It was along the way that his eyes landed on a parchment nailed to the wall. 'Wanted: Dead or Alive for Murder. The archer responsible for 15 deaths in Ul'dah, using ashen arrows. Reward: 500 Gil." The picture was simply the outline of a face with a question mark inside it. This caused a laugh from the man. The number of kills seemed low, no doubt several of his marks had been cleaned up or hidden by their associates. The bounty seemed a little low for his ego, but such was life. Still, it wasn't good news. It meant they were starting to pay attention to him now. He had to be more careful about covering his tracks. He glances up at the large gated manor in front of him and grins, 'Oh this will be fun." *** Taedrinnar whistled on his way to the Quicksand the next morning, stopping to check the newsstand. The morning headlines, "Nobleman and business partner slain by assassin!" He chuckles to himself, enjoying the feeling of a heavy purse once more. 'Ahh, its going to be a good day." ((Intentionally leaving out the details of the crime itself. That part is already written, but i'd like to see anyone who might be interested in investigating figure it out. Feel free to PM me or reply here if your on the case and i'll send you the clues!))

I would be grateful if those involved in Law Enforcement could take a look at this thread for me. Its a possible criminal for you to track down! http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=8258

Hello Everyone. This post is about a character i tend to create in every game i play. The name changes, as does some personality quarks, but the general jist does not. The character starts as a villain.. and where he ends up, depends on the community. There are games where he's stayed the villain. Games where he's been executed. He's been reformed, even joining law enforcement, and one game where he became an Anti-Hero, taking protecting people to a dark place for a good cause. Right now, Taedrinnar Ashenmarrow is a Minstrel by day, Assassin by night. He operates in any city, but mostly Ul'dah. His marks are always killed with an arrow made of Ash wood. Recently, when forced to confront a member of the Sultansworn, She made him create what he calls a ridiculous name just so she'd stop asking who he was, and is now going by 'Ashen Archer' in his assassin persona. So I'm going to start posting stories of his crimes, and i'm more then willing to help be an assassin for other peoples stories as well. What i'd like, is if for anyone who's interested in having an effect on his life, feel free to respond to his stories. Investigate him if your the law. Hire him if your a criminal mastermind. If your some citizen who thinks He/She knows who the Masked villain is, try to find out! I'd love to see where this community takes this character.

((Since i was asked: Yes, this is all caught up, your free to join in if your already involved, or meet up with any of us in game if you'd like to be. This storyline generally happens in and around Quicksand.))

“That is far enough, Lady.” Her sword sprung into her hand almost as if by magic. He was rather impressed with how quickly she drew it. Her voice carried with power and authority, enough that he was sure a common street thug might have wet themselves to hear her speak. 'Step out where I can see you!” The masked archer took a single step into the light, but no closer. “I'm here to help you Lady.. to save lives. My story is important, so I suggest you listen carefully...” In the end, it had gone as he imagined it would. After much arguing over trust and evidence, she finally put away her blade and let him speak. He left out his involvement of course, and the part of how close he came to loosing an arrow at her... but she knew enough. She would investigate. She'd find enough of his tale was true that she'd need help. The Sultansworn would do his work for him, taking care of this client before he could come after the assassin, and in return, they would save the lives of several citizens. It seemed a fair trade to him. He was sure Ser Sadowyn would be pissed If she knew she was helping a killer, still, he had warned her.. “Don't trust anyone, with a man this wealthy, anyone can be bought. Trust no one, not even me.” Besides, she got something out of the deal. She would not leave his identity alone though. Like a dog with a bone, over and over again, 'If your being truthful, take off your mask.' and 'If your here to help, there's no need to hide.' In the end he had finally gotten frustrated with her, 'Your going to make me create some idiotic nickname aren’t you. Call myself the 'Ashen Archer' or 'Darkbow' or something ridiculous like that..” That finally got her to drop it. He was careful returning home, taking several detours and sticking to the shadows as much as he could. At last he bolted the door and and went to his desk. He had promised her more details in writing, and so he penned them, and with a smirk, signed the letter, 'The Ashen Archer, or something' Another urchin would deliver it for him later. For now, he needed to rest. He moves into the bathroom and finally takes off his mask, tossing it on the counter before splashing cool water across his face. “Come on Taedrinnar... get it together. Your nothing to her, she doesn’t even know you exist. What kind of assassin falls for a guard anyway?”

The assassin glanced into the mirror one last time, ensuring his mask covered his face. He donned black leathers and his favorite quiver, loading several poisoned arrows into it. At last he picked up and shouldered his bow, heading to the balcony he had picked out the night before. If they kept to a schedule, his marks would come down this alley in a few moments, alone and unarmed. The highlander would catch an arrow to the forehead and the woman would be tussled up and on her way back to his client in a few moments. That didn't make him particularly happy, but that was the job. He heard the footsteps echoing down the cobbled alley long before he could see them. It took only a moment to notch the arrow and drawl the bowstring back to his chin. As soon as the man stepped into range, he would drop him. All he needed was a moment, a split second to change the young girl's entire world. The footsteps grew louder, and then there they were. He took a deep breath, steadying his aim... One.. ...two.... … thr-”Hello there.” The voice was female, echoing rather near him, and at first he thought he had been caught. But no, it came from beneath him, on the street. A woman in blue plate, approaching the couple slowly. A memory flashed through the assassins mind... He knew her... Yes. Yes he did. His target was getting closer, and would soon be out of sight, but if he struck now, he'd have to deal with her. She was Ser Crofte's friend. The midlander, Sadowyn. He hesitated a moment. Why did he hesitate.The string of the bow started to loosen. No. Just do it. Two shots, two bodies, nothing else changes.But something already had. Every time he tried to re-tighten his grip on the bow, Ser Crofte's face would enter his head, and his grip would slip that much more. Ser Crofte.... The Sultansworn who didn't even know he existed. How many times had she foiled one of his jobs without knowing it. How many times had she investigated one of his kills without finding trace of him. It was almost a game between them, only she didn't know she was playing. A game he had long ago begun to lose. He had fallen for her. An odd thing, the assassin falling for a guard that would no doubt hang him without a thought. He was a skilled assassin. He had a reputation, he had demand and prestige among his peers. Yet he grew weak in the knees at the thought of the very person who was meant to stop him. Here it was again, another well paying job that would surely spread his name among the Syndicate bosses once more, prove his metal as an arrow for hire, and all he had to do was end Ser Crofte's friend. The woman would never see the poisoned arrow coming and she surely couldn't hit him with a sword from this distance. He just couldn't do it. No matter how much his mind screamed at him, the picture of Ser Crofte mourning Ser Sadowyn kept filling his head. Without even realizing it, Anelia Sadowyn had just saved two lives. Ayell of rage filled the alley, but when those bellow looked around, he was long gone, the only sign he had been there was an arrow jammed into the stone mortar of a balcony, broken off at the halfway point. An arrow that matched many others currently in Sultansworn evidence rooms. As he fled, his mind raced. It was to late now, not only had he missed his chance, but his yell would have alerted his target. They were sure not to walk that alley alone again. This was bad. He had been paid, and paid well. Failing a job wasn't an option unless you died. The client would make sure of that, and with one this wealthy... He needed help. But who... who can I turn to when a crime boss wants my head? The answer came immediately of course. No.. I can't go to her.. but..perhaps... He smirked and stopped, motioning to a Miqo'te street urchin... 'Go to the Quicksand and ask for Ser Sadowyn. Tell her, I know of a plot to kidnap and kill several Ul'dah citizens. If she wants to know more, meet me above the Coffin and Cotter. Complete this job and you'll earn enough Gil to eat for a week.' The urchin jumped to her feet and ran off towards the Quicksand as the assassin faded into the night. Perhaps this can work for me after all...

(( The following is a major plot happening in game on Balmaug. Many people are involved in it at this point, and anyone is welcome to join in as far as i know. Whats posted here will be from my character's perspective, and open to people joining in, here or in game. This is a long lasting arc, it wont be solved in a single night!)) The money was good. Who was he kidding? The money was great. One of the highest payoffs he had been offered in a long time. The dark skinned Wildwood leaned against the wall of the Quicksand, a hand idly pushing silver hair from his eyes as he watched his mark. They sat near him, speaking openly of things that would be best kept hidden. Fools. Sure, they glossed over the important details, but he was more then capable of filling in much of what they skipped just from their reactions. The Miqo'te girl, K'lyhhia... his main target, seemed to lean heavily on the Highlander. There was something going on there. Perhaps something he could use to his advantage. The other, the Lancer, spent more time staring at the woman then listening to what either of them said. It was odd that the highlander didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps just didn't care. His mark identified the men for him. The highlander, Gratus Stormbearer, appeared to be an old friend, and probably a current lover. She called him Warrior again and again, though he kept denying it. “I was a Sultansworn once, but not anymore. I'll help in any way I can Lyhhia, but I wont break my vow, I wont pick up a sword again.' There seemed to be some story there. The other, the Lancer, bore the name of Alexander, but he spoke little and not much else could be learned of him. Skilled eyes took in the details. K'lyhhia... a short Miqo'te of about twenty years. She matched the description of his employer perfectly. Red Hair, pale skin, and hints of scars poking out of her clothing. He was fairly sure he know where she got them from. His client said she had 'escaped him' and was to be brought back alive, but not necessarily unharmed. He didn't seem to be the nice type. Gratus, the highlander, was rather tall, even for his race. Tanned flesh of someone who works long hours in the sun and well built to boot. He could be trouble in a close fight. The Elezen smirked, good thing he wasn't much for close work. His mark had identified Gratus as a powerful warrior, and the assassin could see why, but that little nugget of gold, 'I will not break my vow, I wont pick up a sword.' His client had been clear, eliminate her friends, and in the end the man wouldn't be a problem. That left the lancer. Alexander. Also a Miqo'te. He could be trouble, even for a skilled assassin. Powerful looking artifacts hung off the man, even his spear seemed more intimidating then your average weapon. He clearly wore the platemail of a battle hardened warrior. It was something the woman said that helped him solve this dilemma. 'Lyhhia want to see Jhinn again. Jhinn needs to come home soon. Lyhhia misses her brother.' The story began to unfold before him, his ears perked as he listened in. Years ago, Gratus had been Sultansworn, a mid level officer of some type, and the woman's brother, Jhinn, worked under him. Jhinn left Gratus's company just before the company was slaughtered under Gratus's leadership, leaving the highlander to hang up his sword and take his vow. Jhinn had received a letter, stating that his sister had been taken by a ruthless but powerful member of their tribe. He left to save her. What happened when Jhinn had gotten there was not clear, only that he could not save the girl alone, and had to leave, promising to return. He had not been seen since. His sister, on the other hand, had escaped her tormentor and came looking for her brother. When she could not find him, she sought out his old commander. He could guess what happened from there. The way the woman leaned on the highlander made that much clear. It was the lancer who spoke up next ,solving his problem in one fell swoop. 'Well then... You have my help. I'll find your brother and bring him home.' This made the assassin smirk to himself. His client hadn't mentioned a brother, but a man who pays the kind of money he does, who used such care in setting up his dealings, would not leave something like that in the wind. He was sure this brother was long dead by now. The lancer would be to busy chasing ghosts to save either of them.