TARJA JULIETTE ROSSI
ASSASSIN
GRAND MASTER[M:0]
Thousands of ways to die. Only one will seal your fate this night!
Posts: 14
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Post by TARJA JULIETTE ROSSI on Jun 4, 2011 17:02:20 GMT -5
She gave him a warning stare, that said 'Say that again and I'll shut you up myself.' she sighed. "Sorry but I can't be seen anywhere else. There are people in here, people I trust. Some of them are associates to the Assassin Order. I am the Grand Master of the Assassins. Listen to me. Cesar is plotting something. He's a Templar. I need you to find out what it is and what his plans are." she whispered answer she sat at a table and ordered drinks.
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Post by AUGUSTUS LEON PELLIPARIUS on Jun 4, 2011 17:46:58 GMT -5
Who is the betrayer? [/font][/size][/color] He himself had never truly had a palette for wine or what have they, but nevertheless, followed as though a lamb to the slaughter past the ones who were drunk and the flowing garbs that melted from the bodices of their women. Sin was abundant, and for that he remained as though he were a lingering sentinel indeed. There was a striking bit of bafflement at whatever she spoke of, an obvious lack in understanding and comprehension of what these two battling forces where to begin with. Without much musing of the matter, he had thought over what could possibly the Assassins could be – the sarcasm in his mind wasn’t at all deceiving, but the amount more so – but left the emptiness of the Templar name open to reconsideration. There was dearth of understanding as she so freely was allowed to whisper and croon her way past the shut doors of his heart and standing in both government and religion. “What things you speak of do not concern me, Tarja,” though her name stung at his tongue in the unfamiliarity of it, and the hidden poison alike, it went darting past his teeth. “but I am not interested either. Prithee, will you release me soon enough so that I may return to my bed?” Who's the killer in the crowd? It went without saying that man needed his sleep, and to be well rested was to have a fulsome day at last, but there was nothing needed of his rest. For the most part, he resigned and retired to a tumultuous sleep, and for that he suffered with most high rates of being far more irritable in his daily course of action. It mattered little if he was escorted, or walked himself back to the rickety bed that he had claimed, or remained among those in the corners and the tables. The booming noise of fight and jest was in fruitful amounts, but it pained his ear in the excess he presumed it to be in now. As the first load of his drink had come, the potter’s glass finely crafted and one of little expense, it was raised as though to cheer the long night he knew he’d have. “Nec spe, nec metu.” The one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound tag: tarja count: 368 muse: heavy in your arms notes: <3!
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