Once again, he found himself staring down an alleyway as a wolfdog lay down by the entrance. "I swear…" He muttered under his breath as he made his way over to the corner and turned it, only to come face to face with the woman clad in black.
Immediately, he glanced over his shoulder. "No one to choke me this time?" He asked, shooting the woman a meaningful glance.
She simply chuckled. "Aw, I didn't know you enjoyed it quite so much."
"No!" Aoric immediately regretted even mentioning it. "Now," He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I have it. The vial, and the blade were in the case."
The woman's smile faded as her eyes widened. "Really?" She asked with a deep voice. "How interesting…" She reached for the pocket of her cloak. Aoric waited patiently as she pulled out a small pouch. "Two hundred gold coins." She said, extending the pouch with one hand, and gesturing him to give the case with the other.
Aoric took a deep breath and handed over the case. As the woman set the case on the sill of a covered up window to check its contents, Aoric quickly undid the robe tying the mouth of the pouch and began counting the coins.
"Such a simple blade." She whispered as she looked over the contents. "It's quite infuriating."
Aoric swallowed his curiosity. "Thank your doing business with me." He said with a hint of anger in his voice, instinctively touching his bruised neck. He was still angry about that. "Let's never meet again." He hissed and left.
He heard the wolfdog snarl as he walked past it. He forced himself to ignore it and continue walking away. The two hundred gold coins weighed on his belt, filling him not with relief and happiness, but worry. He had accomplished what he came for. Now was the time to get out of this accursed city, and never come back.
He paused when he reached the main street. His gaze shifted between the gate and the cathedral. As dangerous as it seemed, perhaps sneaking out from the mountain side of Vesporum, and circling around the city to return down south was his best choice.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. After a good night's sleep, he would buy some supplies from nearby stores, and sneak out. And even if there were creatures of the winter out there… He would escape them somehow. It wouldn't take more than a couple of ours to get out of the mountain, as large as Vesporum was, it wouldn't take too long to circle around it.
With his plan mostly made in his mind, he headed back to the Rooted Inn.
The sound of fingernails tapping on wood was the only sound to break the otherwise deafening silence. Irene bit her lips and tried to calm herself. Had the thief succeeded? If not… She clenched her fist. If not, she would be mostly out of options.
Her gaze lingered on the document on the desk before her. A list of names. The names of the dead, those killed by accursed blood. All were ruts, nothing more than half bloods. Her expression twisted with disgust. Their existence was a crime on its own, but she was a noble leader. A generous matriarch, unlike her mother.
She had taken them under her protection, so they thrive in the shadow of the alpha's who led them. But instead, they had wandered off, only to be slaughtered like cattle.
She wouldn't care, if not for the implications. A matriarch, unable to protect those weaker than her. She wouldn't let such slander about her spread.
And worst of all, it implied the existence of pure blood, just like the blood in the grail in the cathedral. Her lips curled down with a frown. If it wasn't for that damned sorcerer, she would have gotten rid of that blood ages ago.
It was nothing but a threat to her people, and a promise of power to the filthy bats.
A noise at the front gate caught her attention. The gentle footsteps of her sister, she was sure. She started on her feet and rushed to the door with hasty steps.
"Ah, Irene." Ivy smiled, lifting the wooden case in her hands. "He got it."
Irene's eyes widened. "By the old blood…" She whispered as she took the case and hurried back to the desk in the living room. "What did you do to him?" She asked as she lifted lid of the case, surprised that it wasn't locked.
"I paid him, and he left." Ivy chuckled. "I'm afraid he never wants to see me again. Such a shame, he was quite adorable." She approached the desk as well. "I do find it odd that they chose a… kitchen knife for this." She added with a somewhat uncertain voice.
Irene nodded as she reached for the knife. It was made of silver, but she still found it odd. A kitchen knife was a horrible tool for murder after all. She ran her finger along the flat side of the blade. It was in pristine condition, if it hadn't come out of this case, she would have never believed this had ever cut through flesh.
She sniffed it. "It doesn't smell." She mumbled and placed it back on the velvet lining the case. "Why bother cleaning it quite so much?"
Somewhere in the city, another man dropped dead in an alleyway.