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Muraqaba

Mon Aug 1, 2016 4:49 PM Post Subject: The Break In [P]

Muraqaba

Character Info

Name: Muraqaba

Age: Thirty nine

Alignment: TE

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Class: Pisonic

Silver: 0

Bloody dwarves! It was written all over his face as he sat on a barrel in the tavern. At least their whisky tasted good! He cast a dirty look at the bar women, their beards tucked into their belts offended his air of cleanliness. Muraqaba shaved his face twice a day to maintain a truly clean cut cheek. He kept his nails short and his clothes clean.

A fat and obviously drunk dwarf staggered towards the table Muraqaba sat at in the corner of the hanging tavern. He stopped picking the dirt from his nails and watched the man hobble towards him. Muraqaba had the power to make him leap from the tavern to his death with a few simple words, and yet he couldn’t do it here. He had to blend in, not to be noticed for what he was.

His power was great, but he was vulnerable. The only reason he had left his life of luxury and made the journey to this filthy place was because hidden somewhere in the bowels of the city was an artefact, rumoured to make the owner immortal.

The drunken dwarf stumbled into his table, knocking over Muraqaba’s whisky. The glass smashed, the sorcerer jumped up to avoid getting wet, the drunk dwarf suddenly winked at him discreetly and whispered a code word. He’d saved his skin just in time, unusually Muraqaba’s hand had clasped around the hilt of his sword. The sorcerer didn’t often kill by his own hand, instead he preferred to compel his victims to kill themselves or each other. After loudly apologising to Muraqaba the dwarf stumbled off as suddenly as he had appeared. On the table was a single sheet of folded parchment; a secret message for the sorcerer.

Once read, Muraqaba wasted no time. He stood, pulled on an expensive black overcoat, its lapels were lined with the deep black fur of a bear. He walked over to the fire and burned his note before leaving the tavern and taking a lift down to a quiet corridor. His boots echoed down the hall as he marched with purpose to a spot in the wall where two guards stood guarding a blank piece of cave wall. You are not permitted in this place, leave immediately! Said one of them sternly. “Oh aren’t you funny.” Muraqaba responded with a mocking laugh. “Drop your weapons, the key and jump off the cliff.” Compelled to obey, both guards dropped their axes, one took a key from a secret compartment in his boot and then they both walked down the hallway; and obligingly jumped to their deaths.

Muraqaba picked up a dropped axe and the key, he touched them both on the wall and a door appeared as if it had always been there. He unlocked it and waltzed inside; arrogantly leaving the door wide open behind him.

Muraqaba

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