Today
Three shots. It was supposed to be three shots. Shaelen flexed her hand. The Kinslayer had survived. Shaelen had meant to put three slugs in Delial Grimsong and yet after the first shot she had paused. What made her pause?
How many cycles had it been since she left the violence and brutality of the Resistance behind? Hadn’t she swore to herself back then, loudly even, that she was done with that life? That all it left her was this black void of regret and bloodlust. When she left that life, she never wanted to go back.
But she cut off his head. And delivered it in a box.
The memory of Aylard’s desiccated head, still bearing a pained but enraged expression even in rigor mortis, still ignited such a rage in the smuggler that Shaelen had to close her fingers again to quell the shaking there. She picked up the extractor and the pin instead, focusing on her task in assembling the barrel of her gunblade.
This isn’t about the Resistance. This is about blood for blood. This is about family.
Family. That word made Shael laugh out loud without mirth. The very idea brought bile up to her throat. Here she was helping Roen and the pirate the paladin had allied herself with, while her brother was protecting the woman that killed their parents and tortured him. At least her own sense of family wasn’t as fucked up as Wolfsong’s was.
Gharen Wolfsong, once touted to be the next leader of the Resistance (if one would believe Aylard’s words), was telling Shaelen in one breath about how his sister was in some “Black Cell†and in the next breath how he would not stand in the way of justice coming to find the Kinslayer. He agreed to deliver Delial to her, but then warned the witch ahead of time of the ambush. Then he got in the way after a single shot fired, and somehow arranged for the Blades to be there conveniently just in time to drag her way before the actual deed was done.
Either he didn’t care about his sister, or cared more about the fate and well-being of the woman who killed his parents. At least I got my priorities straight. No way in seven hells I let that woman live… and leave my family in the mercy of my enemies.
Hroch Greyarm was safe. The Sworn kept her word and she released Hroch to Shael’s custody when Lazarov’s contact was revealed. Shael was not happy to give up information on a client, but the pirate had ended their business contract. More importantly, blood was blood. She could not leave Hroch in the hands of Grimsong, lest she receive more bloody fingers with each passing sun.
Shaelen checked over the metal parts spread out on the table before her, reconstructing her beloved gunblade, Jolienne. She was going to get one more opportunity. The smuggler knew she was running out of chances.
I should have ended her back then. When we had the Kinslayer’s family in our hands…
Sometime before...
It was Roen Deneith, of all people, who voiced the idea. The paladin knew that Delial Grimsong, the woman who had lied and lured Gharen Wolfsong into a trap, had a brother of her own: Harvard Blackstone. For whatever reasons unknown, the Kinslayer had shared with Roen that she still had one person who still mattered to her, one surviving family member.
It impressed Shaelen that the paladin would suggest kidnapping the man, who seemingly had no involvement in anything that had to do with the Grimsong’s treacherous ways. But the look in the young woman’s eyes was one of desperation, and offering to trade brother for brother was her last hope. Shaelen could not argue. A part of her wanted to applaud Roen for her cold pragmatism while another part tried to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth at involving one’s kin in matters they had no part in.
Shaelen suspected that the latter was more of an obstacle for the paladin’s conscience as well. Roen had brought the smuggler and one other, a former champion of the bloodsands named Qaeli Varily, to assist in capturing Delial’s sibling. The silver-haired Hyur was one of sharp tongue and remorseless efficiency and she too had no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to free Wolfsong. Mayhap the paladin brought us along to do it because she knew she would hesitate when the moment came, Shael thought.
Finding Harvard Grimsong was easy enough, he was working as a retainer for some goldsmith in Ul’dah. And luring the seemingly oblivious man into an alley in Pearl Lane was child’s play. Shaelen drew him away from the crowded market streets with an offer of business and a carefree smile, while Roen watched their backs and Qaeli watched their fronts. Once they brought up his true surname however, Blackstone as it back in Ala Mhigo, his docile expression gave way to one of apprehension.
Shaelen did not give him the chance to plead his innocence, the paladin was already starting to try and reason with the man. Shael delivered one quick kick to the retainer’s head, and the man crumpled to a heap on the ground like stacked cans being knocked over.
No one in Pearl Lane cared. It was a place for the poor to fight amongst themselves, after all. So they paid no mind to the unconscious man being dragged away by three women. Shael also knew well enough to grease the palms of a few Blades in the area to turn the other way. But after he was secured in Qaeli’s safehouse, Roen Deneith would not have them harm the man any further and personally saw to his bindings. She also insisted on talking to the man alone.
Shaelen complied. She thought then that Harvard would be the perfect lure to bait out the Kinslayer and get Wolfsong out of captivity, and get vengeance for Aylard’s murder.
So where did things go wrong?
And why didn’t she see it through?
Three shots. It was supposed to be three shots. Shaelen flexed her hand. The Kinslayer had survived. Shaelen had meant to put three slugs in Delial Grimsong and yet after the first shot she had paused. What made her pause?
How many cycles had it been since she left the violence and brutality of the Resistance behind? Hadn’t she swore to herself back then, loudly even, that she was done with that life? That all it left her was this black void of regret and bloodlust. When she left that life, she never wanted to go back.
But she cut off his head. And delivered it in a box.
The memory of Aylard’s desiccated head, still bearing a pained but enraged expression even in rigor mortis, still ignited such a rage in the smuggler that Shaelen had to close her fingers again to quell the shaking there. She picked up the extractor and the pin instead, focusing on her task in assembling the barrel of her gunblade.
This isn’t about the Resistance. This is about blood for blood. This is about family.
Family. That word made Shael laugh out loud without mirth. The very idea brought bile up to her throat. Here she was helping Roen and the pirate the paladin had allied herself with, while her brother was protecting the woman that killed their parents and tortured him. At least her own sense of family wasn’t as fucked up as Wolfsong’s was.
Gharen Wolfsong, once touted to be the next leader of the Resistance (if one would believe Aylard’s words), was telling Shaelen in one breath about how his sister was in some “Black Cell†and in the next breath how he would not stand in the way of justice coming to find the Kinslayer. He agreed to deliver Delial to her, but then warned the witch ahead of time of the ambush. Then he got in the way after a single shot fired, and somehow arranged for the Blades to be there conveniently just in time to drag her way before the actual deed was done.
Either he didn’t care about his sister, or cared more about the fate and well-being of the woman who killed his parents. At least I got my priorities straight. No way in seven hells I let that woman live… and leave my family in the mercy of my enemies.
Hroch Greyarm was safe. The Sworn kept her word and she released Hroch to Shael’s custody when Lazarov’s contact was revealed. Shael was not happy to give up information on a client, but the pirate had ended their business contract. More importantly, blood was blood. She could not leave Hroch in the hands of Grimsong, lest she receive more bloody fingers with each passing sun.
Shaelen checked over the metal parts spread out on the table before her, reconstructing her beloved gunblade, Jolienne. She was going to get one more opportunity. The smuggler knew she was running out of chances.
I should have ended her back then. When we had the Kinslayer’s family in our hands…
______________________________________________________________
Sometime before...
It was Roen Deneith, of all people, who voiced the idea. The paladin knew that Delial Grimsong, the woman who had lied and lured Gharen Wolfsong into a trap, had a brother of her own: Harvard Blackstone. For whatever reasons unknown, the Kinslayer had shared with Roen that she still had one person who still mattered to her, one surviving family member.
It impressed Shaelen that the paladin would suggest kidnapping the man, who seemingly had no involvement in anything that had to do with the Grimsong’s treacherous ways. But the look in the young woman’s eyes was one of desperation, and offering to trade brother for brother was her last hope. Shaelen could not argue. A part of her wanted to applaud Roen for her cold pragmatism while another part tried to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth at involving one’s kin in matters they had no part in.
Shaelen suspected that the latter was more of an obstacle for the paladin’s conscience as well. Roen had brought the smuggler and one other, a former champion of the bloodsands named Qaeli Varily, to assist in capturing Delial’s sibling. The silver-haired Hyur was one of sharp tongue and remorseless efficiency and she too had no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to free Wolfsong. Mayhap the paladin brought us along to do it because she knew she would hesitate when the moment came, Shael thought.
Finding Harvard Grimsong was easy enough, he was working as a retainer for some goldsmith in Ul’dah. And luring the seemingly oblivious man into an alley in Pearl Lane was child’s play. Shaelen drew him away from the crowded market streets with an offer of business and a carefree smile, while Roen watched their backs and Qaeli watched their fronts. Once they brought up his true surname however, Blackstone as it back in Ala Mhigo, his docile expression gave way to one of apprehension.
Shaelen did not give him the chance to plead his innocence, the paladin was already starting to try and reason with the man. Shael delivered one quick kick to the retainer’s head, and the man crumpled to a heap on the ground like stacked cans being knocked over.
No one in Pearl Lane cared. It was a place for the poor to fight amongst themselves, after all. So they paid no mind to the unconscious man being dragged away by three women. Shael also knew well enough to grease the palms of a few Blades in the area to turn the other way. But after he was secured in Qaeli’s safehouse, Roen Deneith would not have them harm the man any further and personally saw to his bindings. She also insisted on talking to the man alone.
Shaelen complied. She thought then that Harvard would be the perfect lure to bait out the Kinslayer and get Wolfsong out of captivity, and get vengeance for Aylard’s murder.
So where did things go wrong?
And why didn’t she see it through?
