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The pattern of behaviour upon arriving in a new land was more or less the same. Congregate in the allocated spot, seek out food and rations, not to mention the lay of the land. Work out first target. Sleep and recover from the journey and then begin work. They pilfered, stole and created a nest egg of treasure in their place of stay and then left the kingdom or land they had rape for its riches when they had too much to carry or their identities were at risk of being discovered; whichever came first. It was their routine and it worked well.
Whilst others might have had the steady homely feel of their profession by daylight hours, followed by family time with their loved ones, dinner and bathing and then bed, the Sariqas found their own home and their own familiarity with the pattern of behaviour that made them rich. It was the only sense of family that they needed.
At the instruction of the superiors in the group, Akhmad had volunteered to complete the first task needed after securing a place to stay in the Colchian city: locating food. Whilst he was perfectly capable of achieving this by himself - even for the number of mouths their group current sported - the young Zai had offered to go with him.
Of all those who could have put themselves forward to accompany him, Zai was probably Akhmad's least preferred. Not for anything the boy could help or change but for a combination of elements that made his aid difficult for the masked, silent Sariqas. Difficult, however, was not impossible, and he had no intention of rejecting the offer or causing a scene. Akhmad had often been referred to as the shadow, or the water of the group, bending and shifting as the others did and able to act without personal emotion staying his hand or causing a ripple in the surface of his calm.
As he moved down one of the smaller streets of the Colchian capitol, Akhmad kept half an eye on his partner, from his peripheral. Known to be exuberant, gregarious and potentially over-reaching in his acts of thievery or charm, Zai was a little bit of a loose cannon when compared to the deadly stoicism of his older brother or the hard-line determination of Khanh. Compared to Akhmad, the kid was a Godsdamned comedy act of over the top expression, but then that could be said for a lot of people and was more a reflection of Akhmad's inhuman level of serenity, than Zai' propensity for liveliness.
Whilst these characteristics in themselves were not really an issue. If the boy were anyone else and happened to get his neck on the chopping block because he was a rambunctious idiot, Akhmad would have been able to simply slip away into the shadows, determining him as poor material for a Sariqas and going on about his silent business. But, instead, Zai was the younger brother of their leader Nahash. It gave him a certain position of immunity within the group and meant that if any disaster fell upon him, Akhmad would likely be strung up by his thumbs in punishment.
So, how he had two responsibilities... seeking out food... and babysitting.
Determined not to make more than the necessary effort in either of these ventures, Akhmad kept his sight fixed ahead, Zai's figure in his peripheral at all times and moved through the crowd as silk fell through outstretched fingers. His movements were almost feminine they were so graceful and they led to him being against to head through the people, their cargo and their paths, without rousing attention or having anyone look his way.
Perhaps he was a man blessed by Nyx to be unnoticeable to the world or perhaps Colchis was just more used to witnessing foreigners and not at all eager to socialise with them that he was able to pass through like a non-existent shadow. Either way, he was a spectre in the crowd as the two of them headed down the street, a few feet away from each other initially as they looked down side alleys and worked out the layout of the nearby streets.
There was a natural flow to the pedestrians they passed and it wasn't long before Akhmad spotted a pattern of empty baskets heading predominantly in one direction and full ones moving in the other. With the general direction of the market or trading streets identified, Akhmad moved smoothly in that direction, glancing at Zai to ensure that he was following...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The pattern of behaviour upon arriving in a new land was more or less the same. Congregate in the allocated spot, seek out food and rations, not to mention the lay of the land. Work out first target. Sleep and recover from the journey and then begin work. They pilfered, stole and created a nest egg of treasure in their place of stay and then left the kingdom or land they had rape for its riches when they had too much to carry or their identities were at risk of being discovered; whichever came first. It was their routine and it worked well.
Whilst others might have had the steady homely feel of their profession by daylight hours, followed by family time with their loved ones, dinner and bathing and then bed, the Sariqas found their own home and their own familiarity with the pattern of behaviour that made them rich. It was the only sense of family that they needed.
At the instruction of the superiors in the group, Akhmad had volunteered to complete the first task needed after securing a place to stay in the Colchian city: locating food. Whilst he was perfectly capable of achieving this by himself - even for the number of mouths their group current sported - the young Zai had offered to go with him.
Of all those who could have put themselves forward to accompany him, Zai was probably Akhmad's least preferred. Not for anything the boy could help or change but for a combination of elements that made his aid difficult for the masked, silent Sariqas. Difficult, however, was not impossible, and he had no intention of rejecting the offer or causing a scene. Akhmad had often been referred to as the shadow, or the water of the group, bending and shifting as the others did and able to act without personal emotion staying his hand or causing a ripple in the surface of his calm.
As he moved down one of the smaller streets of the Colchian capitol, Akhmad kept half an eye on his partner, from his peripheral. Known to be exuberant, gregarious and potentially over-reaching in his acts of thievery or charm, Zai was a little bit of a loose cannon when compared to the deadly stoicism of his older brother or the hard-line determination of Khanh. Compared to Akhmad, the kid was a Godsdamned comedy act of over the top expression, but then that could be said for a lot of people and was more a reflection of Akhmad's inhuman level of serenity, than Zai' propensity for liveliness.
Whilst these characteristics in themselves were not really an issue. If the boy were anyone else and happened to get his neck on the chopping block because he was a rambunctious idiot, Akhmad would have been able to simply slip away into the shadows, determining him as poor material for a Sariqas and going on about his silent business. But, instead, Zai was the younger brother of their leader Nahash. It gave him a certain position of immunity within the group and meant that if any disaster fell upon him, Akhmad would likely be strung up by his thumbs in punishment.
So, how he had two responsibilities... seeking out food... and babysitting.
Determined not to make more than the necessary effort in either of these ventures, Akhmad kept his sight fixed ahead, Zai's figure in his peripheral at all times and moved through the crowd as silk fell through outstretched fingers. His movements were almost feminine they were so graceful and they led to him being against to head through the people, their cargo and their paths, without rousing attention or having anyone look his way.
Perhaps he was a man blessed by Nyx to be unnoticeable to the world or perhaps Colchis was just more used to witnessing foreigners and not at all eager to socialise with them that he was able to pass through like a non-existent shadow. Either way, he was a spectre in the crowd as the two of them headed down the street, a few feet away from each other initially as they looked down side alleys and worked out the layout of the nearby streets.
There was a natural flow to the pedestrians they passed and it wasn't long before Akhmad spotted a pattern of empty baskets heading predominantly in one direction and full ones moving in the other. With the general direction of the market or trading streets identified, Akhmad moved smoothly in that direction, glancing at Zai to ensure that he was following...
The pattern of behaviour upon arriving in a new land was more or less the same. Congregate in the allocated spot, seek out food and rations, not to mention the lay of the land. Work out first target. Sleep and recover from the journey and then begin work. They pilfered, stole and created a nest egg of treasure in their place of stay and then left the kingdom or land they had rape for its riches when they had too much to carry or their identities were at risk of being discovered; whichever came first. It was their routine and it worked well.
Whilst others might have had the steady homely feel of their profession by daylight hours, followed by family time with their loved ones, dinner and bathing and then bed, the Sariqas found their own home and their own familiarity with the pattern of behaviour that made them rich. It was the only sense of family that they needed.
At the instruction of the superiors in the group, Akhmad had volunteered to complete the first task needed after securing a place to stay in the Colchian city: locating food. Whilst he was perfectly capable of achieving this by himself - even for the number of mouths their group current sported - the young Zai had offered to go with him.
Of all those who could have put themselves forward to accompany him, Zai was probably Akhmad's least preferred. Not for anything the boy could help or change but for a combination of elements that made his aid difficult for the masked, silent Sariqas. Difficult, however, was not impossible, and he had no intention of rejecting the offer or causing a scene. Akhmad had often been referred to as the shadow, or the water of the group, bending and shifting as the others did and able to act without personal emotion staying his hand or causing a ripple in the surface of his calm.
As he moved down one of the smaller streets of the Colchian capitol, Akhmad kept half an eye on his partner, from his peripheral. Known to be exuberant, gregarious and potentially over-reaching in his acts of thievery or charm, Zai was a little bit of a loose cannon when compared to the deadly stoicism of his older brother or the hard-line determination of Khanh. Compared to Akhmad, the kid was a Godsdamned comedy act of over the top expression, but then that could be said for a lot of people and was more a reflection of Akhmad's inhuman level of serenity, than Zai' propensity for liveliness.
Whilst these characteristics in themselves were not really an issue. If the boy were anyone else and happened to get his neck on the chopping block because he was a rambunctious idiot, Akhmad would have been able to simply slip away into the shadows, determining him as poor material for a Sariqas and going on about his silent business. But, instead, Zai was the younger brother of their leader Nahash. It gave him a certain position of immunity within the group and meant that if any disaster fell upon him, Akhmad would likely be strung up by his thumbs in punishment.
So, how he had two responsibilities... seeking out food... and babysitting.
Determined not to make more than the necessary effort in either of these ventures, Akhmad kept his sight fixed ahead, Zai's figure in his peripheral at all times and moved through the crowd as silk fell through outstretched fingers. His movements were almost feminine they were so graceful and they led to him being against to head through the people, their cargo and their paths, without rousing attention or having anyone look his way.
Perhaps he was a man blessed by Nyx to be unnoticeable to the world or perhaps Colchis was just more used to witnessing foreigners and not at all eager to socialise with them that he was able to pass through like a non-existent shadow. Either way, he was a spectre in the crowd as the two of them headed down the street, a few feet away from each other initially as they looked down side alleys and worked out the layout of the nearby streets.
There was a natural flow to the pedestrians they passed and it wasn't long before Akhmad spotted a pattern of empty baskets heading predominantly in one direction and full ones moving in the other. With the general direction of the market or trading streets identified, Akhmad moved smoothly in that direction, glancing at Zai to ensure that he was following...
Zai could be sneaky and quiet and mysterious. He could be shadowy and concealed. He simply usually chose not to be. It hardly mattered, people didn't notice anyone else besides themselves anyway, at the people important or powerful enough to do anything about men they might find suspicious. Most people were too self absorbed and stupid to observe anything around them. That suited Zai just fine.
Akhmad stalked around the streets like a phantom while Zai traipsed like a rich man. No one would suspect either one of theft, Akhmad they barely noticed and no thief would be as obvious as Zai. They also did not travel as if they were together and only small glances connected them.
The lay of the city was typical, a smart and efficient one that many cities copied and perfected. Allies, streets, booths, homes, apartments, all cities blended together these days. They would soon leave this one and he would only remember the name, maybe a woman or man that charmed him, maybe a moment where he got the best of someone. All other details would be blurry and blend with everywhere else he had been.
Zai noted the same thing as his current partner and headed that way without a signal. They had done this before, might as well have been the same city. Soon, the air smelled of grain, fruits, linen, dye, and raw meat and fish.
Soon a booth was short a stack of flatbreads, Zai having tucked them away in his satchel. Only one thing could distract him from food and that particular thing walked by now. She was tall, slender, her eyes were hauntingly dark and her hair was golden. He paused and smiled her way.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Zai could be sneaky and quiet and mysterious. He could be shadowy and concealed. He simply usually chose not to be. It hardly mattered, people didn't notice anyone else besides themselves anyway, at the people important or powerful enough to do anything about men they might find suspicious. Most people were too self absorbed and stupid to observe anything around them. That suited Zai just fine.
Akhmad stalked around the streets like a phantom while Zai traipsed like a rich man. No one would suspect either one of theft, Akhmad they barely noticed and no thief would be as obvious as Zai. They also did not travel as if they were together and only small glances connected them.
The lay of the city was typical, a smart and efficient one that many cities copied and perfected. Allies, streets, booths, homes, apartments, all cities blended together these days. They would soon leave this one and he would only remember the name, maybe a woman or man that charmed him, maybe a moment where he got the best of someone. All other details would be blurry and blend with everywhere else he had been.
Zai noted the same thing as his current partner and headed that way without a signal. They had done this before, might as well have been the same city. Soon, the air smelled of grain, fruits, linen, dye, and raw meat and fish.
Soon a booth was short a stack of flatbreads, Zai having tucked them away in his satchel. Only one thing could distract him from food and that particular thing walked by now. She was tall, slender, her eyes were hauntingly dark and her hair was golden. He paused and smiled her way.
Zai could be sneaky and quiet and mysterious. He could be shadowy and concealed. He simply usually chose not to be. It hardly mattered, people didn't notice anyone else besides themselves anyway, at the people important or powerful enough to do anything about men they might find suspicious. Most people were too self absorbed and stupid to observe anything around them. That suited Zai just fine.
Akhmad stalked around the streets like a phantom while Zai traipsed like a rich man. No one would suspect either one of theft, Akhmad they barely noticed and no thief would be as obvious as Zai. They also did not travel as if they were together and only small glances connected them.
The lay of the city was typical, a smart and efficient one that many cities copied and perfected. Allies, streets, booths, homes, apartments, all cities blended together these days. They would soon leave this one and he would only remember the name, maybe a woman or man that charmed him, maybe a moment where he got the best of someone. All other details would be blurry and blend with everywhere else he had been.
Zai noted the same thing as his current partner and headed that way without a signal. They had done this before, might as well have been the same city. Soon, the air smelled of grain, fruits, linen, dye, and raw meat and fish.
Soon a booth was short a stack of flatbreads, Zai having tucked them away in his satchel. Only one thing could distract him from food and that particular thing walked by now. She was tall, slender, her eyes were hauntingly dark and her hair was golden. He paused and smiled her way.
Akhmad did not babysit Zai but dogging his every step. In fact, he walked with a certain distance that it would make it hard for others to notice they were even connected or related in some way. Their looks and glances of communication, the odd gesture or twitch of a hand or scratch to the temple with a single finger... all were simple instructions and discussion that would have been lost on anyone else walking by,
The market was laid out in a similar fashion to any other market in any other city, which meant that it was an art of practice and habit to swipe at certain items. It was often, on their last night in a city, that their little group with seek about a contest on who could grab the best item without being caught. With higher risk it was only a game to be played when they were already planning on leaving but Akhmad still held the record by producing an entire spit-roasting pig. With apple still stuffed in its mouth.
This time, his attentions were much simpler. He would pick an apple here, a piece of bread there. He continued with small sleights of hands and singular motions that no-one ever noticed, the items being spirited into the layers of his clothing or the satchel that he had taken for the venture. Slowly, the bad became heavy against his shoulder, as the two of them worked but the provision of food was only one of Akhmad's responsibilities. Though not stated by Nahash, as his duty, if he did not look out for Zai then his life would be little worth living upon his return to the group. So, Akhmad kept an eye peeled upon the boy as they wandered.
When he spotted the kid catching the eye of a pretty young girl, Akhmad haulted his steps, leaning against the bracing stand of one of the booths holding fish (he never touched the stuff - the smell always gave a thief away) and narrowed his eyes at the male. His stance was one of patient idleness but his expression between the sheets of his mask was anything but approving. He could not tell Zai off for his wandering eye for the man outranked him. He could only make his opinions clear in his body language and gaze as the boy took pleasure in the sight of a pretty lady...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Akhmad did not babysit Zai but dogging his every step. In fact, he walked with a certain distance that it would make it hard for others to notice they were even connected or related in some way. Their looks and glances of communication, the odd gesture or twitch of a hand or scratch to the temple with a single finger... all were simple instructions and discussion that would have been lost on anyone else walking by,
The market was laid out in a similar fashion to any other market in any other city, which meant that it was an art of practice and habit to swipe at certain items. It was often, on their last night in a city, that their little group with seek about a contest on who could grab the best item without being caught. With higher risk it was only a game to be played when they were already planning on leaving but Akhmad still held the record by producing an entire spit-roasting pig. With apple still stuffed in its mouth.
This time, his attentions were much simpler. He would pick an apple here, a piece of bread there. He continued with small sleights of hands and singular motions that no-one ever noticed, the items being spirited into the layers of his clothing or the satchel that he had taken for the venture. Slowly, the bad became heavy against his shoulder, as the two of them worked but the provision of food was only one of Akhmad's responsibilities. Though not stated by Nahash, as his duty, if he did not look out for Zai then his life would be little worth living upon his return to the group. So, Akhmad kept an eye peeled upon the boy as they wandered.
When he spotted the kid catching the eye of a pretty young girl, Akhmad haulted his steps, leaning against the bracing stand of one of the booths holding fish (he never touched the stuff - the smell always gave a thief away) and narrowed his eyes at the male. His stance was one of patient idleness but his expression between the sheets of his mask was anything but approving. He could not tell Zai off for his wandering eye for the man outranked him. He could only make his opinions clear in his body language and gaze as the boy took pleasure in the sight of a pretty lady...
Akhmad did not babysit Zai but dogging his every step. In fact, he walked with a certain distance that it would make it hard for others to notice they were even connected or related in some way. Their looks and glances of communication, the odd gesture or twitch of a hand or scratch to the temple with a single finger... all were simple instructions and discussion that would have been lost on anyone else walking by,
The market was laid out in a similar fashion to any other market in any other city, which meant that it was an art of practice and habit to swipe at certain items. It was often, on their last night in a city, that their little group with seek about a contest on who could grab the best item without being caught. With higher risk it was only a game to be played when they were already planning on leaving but Akhmad still held the record by producing an entire spit-roasting pig. With apple still stuffed in its mouth.
This time, his attentions were much simpler. He would pick an apple here, a piece of bread there. He continued with small sleights of hands and singular motions that no-one ever noticed, the items being spirited into the layers of his clothing or the satchel that he had taken for the venture. Slowly, the bad became heavy against his shoulder, as the two of them worked but the provision of food was only one of Akhmad's responsibilities. Though not stated by Nahash, as his duty, if he did not look out for Zai then his life would be little worth living upon his return to the group. So, Akhmad kept an eye peeled upon the boy as they wandered.
When he spotted the kid catching the eye of a pretty young girl, Akhmad haulted his steps, leaning against the bracing stand of one of the booths holding fish (he never touched the stuff - the smell always gave a thief away) and narrowed his eyes at the male. His stance was one of patient idleness but his expression between the sheets of his mask was anything but approving. He could not tell Zai off for his wandering eye for the man outranked him. He could only make his opinions clear in his body language and gaze as the boy took pleasure in the sight of a pretty lady...
This city was wonderful! He hadn't thought so before, it was boring, like any other. But now, he realized it was the people that made it rich, especially the ones as easy on the eyes as this one. Did he imagine it or was that sashay as she walked by just for him? She knew she was being watched, he imagined.
"Sweet lady," He approached, dramatically, "I was robbed and wandered aimlessly wandered into the market. What I thought was unfortunate luck was actually fate to find us both here now. If it took losing my belongings for us to meet, it will have been worth it."
She turned to him and all he saw was the depths of her lovely eyes...not the look of concern she was giving at someone behind him. The subject of her gaze was a large man whose face was getting redder as Zai gave his flowery declaration.
The man grabbed Zai's shoulder and thankfully he could switch from horny to fighting in a moment's notice. He ducked below the man's fist as it came swinging at him. The second swing hit him bodily, near the kidney and he grunted, swinging his own fists in order to try and free himself from the man;'s grip on his shoulder.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This city was wonderful! He hadn't thought so before, it was boring, like any other. But now, he realized it was the people that made it rich, especially the ones as easy on the eyes as this one. Did he imagine it or was that sashay as she walked by just for him? She knew she was being watched, he imagined.
"Sweet lady," He approached, dramatically, "I was robbed and wandered aimlessly wandered into the market. What I thought was unfortunate luck was actually fate to find us both here now. If it took losing my belongings for us to meet, it will have been worth it."
She turned to him and all he saw was the depths of her lovely eyes...not the look of concern she was giving at someone behind him. The subject of her gaze was a large man whose face was getting redder as Zai gave his flowery declaration.
The man grabbed Zai's shoulder and thankfully he could switch from horny to fighting in a moment's notice. He ducked below the man's fist as it came swinging at him. The second swing hit him bodily, near the kidney and he grunted, swinging his own fists in order to try and free himself from the man;'s grip on his shoulder.
This city was wonderful! He hadn't thought so before, it was boring, like any other. But now, he realized it was the people that made it rich, especially the ones as easy on the eyes as this one. Did he imagine it or was that sashay as she walked by just for him? She knew she was being watched, he imagined.
"Sweet lady," He approached, dramatically, "I was robbed and wandered aimlessly wandered into the market. What I thought was unfortunate luck was actually fate to find us both here now. If it took losing my belongings for us to meet, it will have been worth it."
She turned to him and all he saw was the depths of her lovely eyes...not the look of concern she was giving at someone behind him. The subject of her gaze was a large man whose face was getting redder as Zai gave his flowery declaration.
The man grabbed Zai's shoulder and thankfully he could switch from horny to fighting in a moment's notice. He ducked below the man's fist as it came swinging at him. The second swing hit him bodily, near the kidney and he grunted, swinging his own fists in order to try and free himself from the man;'s grip on his shoulder.
Akhmad was not a man who enjoyed spectacle or show. But the simple truth of many matters was that the most efficient route to solving a problem was often one that caught attention. Whether that was due to its extreme style that confirmed and promised a guaranteed outcome, or simply because the most efficient answers were often dealt by the most skilled appliers in their field... either way, the results were often something most would not normally witness. Leading to them drawing the eye of the common folk. Regardless of whether or not it was Akhmad's intention to make waves.
For, whilst he might not like spectacle and unnecessary attention (what assassin would?), he was most certainly an efficient being.
Akhmad handled situations as he would people and people as he would a disease that needed to be cured or cultivated with immediate and effective action. He saw a problem. He fixed it. He removed himself from the situation as quickly as was possible so that any show or drama he left in his wake was no longer attached to his own name or facade. It was the easiest and quickest way to handle a problem. And Akhmad was all about ease over compassion.
Therefore, when Zai managed to select an apparently married woman with whom to flirt, Akhmad was quickly to watch closely and shift himself several yards closer as a large and sweaty individual encroached upon Zai from behind.
From the set of his shoulders and the taut line of his back, it was clear that the man had violence in mind and was taking great issue with Zai's flirting comments with the young woman. Whilst Akhmad was too far away to hear his leader's little brother wax lyrical about the woman's eyes or hair or whatever he had chosen to reach out upon, Akhmad was able to read lips and speak multiple languages. Which meant that Zai's broken Greek and the body language of those he confronted spoke volumes in Akhmad's ears, regardless of distance.
Surmising the situation with accuracy and speed, Akhmad moved himself through the crowds, quickening his step with every pace.
By the time the offended party struck out in an attempt to hit Zai, Akhmad was running. By the time he had landed the second of the two punches, Akhmad had leapt to a nearby trader's cart, housing barrels of vegetation and a little grain, the wrappings around his boots muting the sound of his steps across the wooden edge. And as Zai became caught in a situation where the large, reddened man would not let go of the younger boy's shoulder, Akhmad was quick to turn his run up into a leaping dive that had his legs encircling the neck of Zai's attacker.
Using his momentum as a tool and never once needing to remove his blades, Akhmad twisted his torso, pulled on his legs and flipped the man down and over himself.
Within a split second of whirling motion, the attacker had let go of Zai's shoulder and somersaulted around and onto his back on the floor, his eyes dazed, Zai had been given the liberty to step free and Akhmad had landed upon the ground, catlike and agile, one leg and arm extended for balance while his other hand splayed across the dirty cobbles of the street.
A few people yelped at the sudden commotion but, for the most part, by the time anyone had noticed that something had happened, it was over; the man was on the floor and Zai was free once again, the wife he had been flirting with pressing her hands to her mouth and staring at his cloaked and masked rescuer with an expression of horror.
Drawing himself back to his feet, Akhmad gestured sharply that Zai hurry up and make himself scarce so that he could follow. For he was not in a position to force the brother of his leader to do anything he wanted, nor was about to leave the man behind. They needed to remove themselves from the spectacle that the young boy had sparked and return to their hideout with their hoard of stolen food.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Akhmad was not a man who enjoyed spectacle or show. But the simple truth of many matters was that the most efficient route to solving a problem was often one that caught attention. Whether that was due to its extreme style that confirmed and promised a guaranteed outcome, or simply because the most efficient answers were often dealt by the most skilled appliers in their field... either way, the results were often something most would not normally witness. Leading to them drawing the eye of the common folk. Regardless of whether or not it was Akhmad's intention to make waves.
For, whilst he might not like spectacle and unnecessary attention (what assassin would?), he was most certainly an efficient being.
Akhmad handled situations as he would people and people as he would a disease that needed to be cured or cultivated with immediate and effective action. He saw a problem. He fixed it. He removed himself from the situation as quickly as was possible so that any show or drama he left in his wake was no longer attached to his own name or facade. It was the easiest and quickest way to handle a problem. And Akhmad was all about ease over compassion.
Therefore, when Zai managed to select an apparently married woman with whom to flirt, Akhmad was quickly to watch closely and shift himself several yards closer as a large and sweaty individual encroached upon Zai from behind.
From the set of his shoulders and the taut line of his back, it was clear that the man had violence in mind and was taking great issue with Zai's flirting comments with the young woman. Whilst Akhmad was too far away to hear his leader's little brother wax lyrical about the woman's eyes or hair or whatever he had chosen to reach out upon, Akhmad was able to read lips and speak multiple languages. Which meant that Zai's broken Greek and the body language of those he confronted spoke volumes in Akhmad's ears, regardless of distance.
Surmising the situation with accuracy and speed, Akhmad moved himself through the crowds, quickening his step with every pace.
By the time the offended party struck out in an attempt to hit Zai, Akhmad was running. By the time he had landed the second of the two punches, Akhmad had leapt to a nearby trader's cart, housing barrels of vegetation and a little grain, the wrappings around his boots muting the sound of his steps across the wooden edge. And as Zai became caught in a situation where the large, reddened man would not let go of the younger boy's shoulder, Akhmad was quick to turn his run up into a leaping dive that had his legs encircling the neck of Zai's attacker.
Using his momentum as a tool and never once needing to remove his blades, Akhmad twisted his torso, pulled on his legs and flipped the man down and over himself.
Within a split second of whirling motion, the attacker had let go of Zai's shoulder and somersaulted around and onto his back on the floor, his eyes dazed, Zai had been given the liberty to step free and Akhmad had landed upon the ground, catlike and agile, one leg and arm extended for balance while his other hand splayed across the dirty cobbles of the street.
A few people yelped at the sudden commotion but, for the most part, by the time anyone had noticed that something had happened, it was over; the man was on the floor and Zai was free once again, the wife he had been flirting with pressing her hands to her mouth and staring at his cloaked and masked rescuer with an expression of horror.
Drawing himself back to his feet, Akhmad gestured sharply that Zai hurry up and make himself scarce so that he could follow. For he was not in a position to force the brother of his leader to do anything he wanted, nor was about to leave the man behind. They needed to remove themselves from the spectacle that the young boy had sparked and return to their hideout with their hoard of stolen food.
Akhmad was not a man who enjoyed spectacle or show. But the simple truth of many matters was that the most efficient route to solving a problem was often one that caught attention. Whether that was due to its extreme style that confirmed and promised a guaranteed outcome, or simply because the most efficient answers were often dealt by the most skilled appliers in their field... either way, the results were often something most would not normally witness. Leading to them drawing the eye of the common folk. Regardless of whether or not it was Akhmad's intention to make waves.
For, whilst he might not like spectacle and unnecessary attention (what assassin would?), he was most certainly an efficient being.
Akhmad handled situations as he would people and people as he would a disease that needed to be cured or cultivated with immediate and effective action. He saw a problem. He fixed it. He removed himself from the situation as quickly as was possible so that any show or drama he left in his wake was no longer attached to his own name or facade. It was the easiest and quickest way to handle a problem. And Akhmad was all about ease over compassion.
Therefore, when Zai managed to select an apparently married woman with whom to flirt, Akhmad was quickly to watch closely and shift himself several yards closer as a large and sweaty individual encroached upon Zai from behind.
From the set of his shoulders and the taut line of his back, it was clear that the man had violence in mind and was taking great issue with Zai's flirting comments with the young woman. Whilst Akhmad was too far away to hear his leader's little brother wax lyrical about the woman's eyes or hair or whatever he had chosen to reach out upon, Akhmad was able to read lips and speak multiple languages. Which meant that Zai's broken Greek and the body language of those he confronted spoke volumes in Akhmad's ears, regardless of distance.
Surmising the situation with accuracy and speed, Akhmad moved himself through the crowds, quickening his step with every pace.
By the time the offended party struck out in an attempt to hit Zai, Akhmad was running. By the time he had landed the second of the two punches, Akhmad had leapt to a nearby trader's cart, housing barrels of vegetation and a little grain, the wrappings around his boots muting the sound of his steps across the wooden edge. And as Zai became caught in a situation where the large, reddened man would not let go of the younger boy's shoulder, Akhmad was quick to turn his run up into a leaping dive that had his legs encircling the neck of Zai's attacker.
Using his momentum as a tool and never once needing to remove his blades, Akhmad twisted his torso, pulled on his legs and flipped the man down and over himself.
Within a split second of whirling motion, the attacker had let go of Zai's shoulder and somersaulted around and onto his back on the floor, his eyes dazed, Zai had been given the liberty to step free and Akhmad had landed upon the ground, catlike and agile, one leg and arm extended for balance while his other hand splayed across the dirty cobbles of the street.
A few people yelped at the sudden commotion but, for the most part, by the time anyone had noticed that something had happened, it was over; the man was on the floor and Zai was free once again, the wife he had been flirting with pressing her hands to her mouth and staring at his cloaked and masked rescuer with an expression of horror.
Drawing himself back to his feet, Akhmad gestured sharply that Zai hurry up and make himself scarce so that he could follow. For he was not in a position to force the brother of his leader to do anything he wanted, nor was about to leave the man behind. They needed to remove themselves from the spectacle that the young boy had sparked and return to their hideout with their hoard of stolen food.
As puberty hit, so did Zai's desires. His moves would improve over time as flirting with a woman likely eight years his senior and married to boot would be a hard learned lesson and not a satiation of his new found manhood. In the years to come, Zai would learn exactly whom to target to receive and give the sexual affection and intimacy he sought. It would be easy in the future, come almost naturally. One day, Zai would be able to make a woman wet between the legs with just a smile and leave with a sweet memory.
But, today was not that day, as evidenced by the bruises forming on his side.
Zai swung and amazingly hit the man’s face. This seemed to only anger him though as Zai’s spindly arms, not yet strengthened with the testosterone formed bulk he would one day possess (he hoped), were useless at punching. Thankfully, he would never find out where this anger might lead. The grip was loosened and the cause was obvious. Akhmad had come to his aid. Relief mixed with a begrudging thankfulness that he needed help at all.
He was eager to be able to handle himself as Akhmad did in a situation of danger and he hated that he wasn’t there yet. Still, the pain in his side reminded him that he didn’t want any more and, if not for Akhmad, he would absolutely be receiving the beating of a lifetime. Zai stumbled back, holding his likely cracked ribs with his arm. With a wince, he heeded the mute man’s beckon and trotted to join him, taking one last look at the carnage and the woman who had made him cause it.
He gave Akhmed a sheepish grin after they were well enough away from the situation. “Sorry.” He said in a low, child-like voice much different from the one he used on the woman. He sighed. It would be up to Zai to explain his bruises once they retuned. As they walked, he wanted to beg Akhmed not to tell his brother but he knew the man would not say it in words anyway. Lying would only lose trust between them so he knew he would have to tell the truth. Perhaps his brother would go easy on him again.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As puberty hit, so did Zai's desires. His moves would improve over time as flirting with a woman likely eight years his senior and married to boot would be a hard learned lesson and not a satiation of his new found manhood. In the years to come, Zai would learn exactly whom to target to receive and give the sexual affection and intimacy he sought. It would be easy in the future, come almost naturally. One day, Zai would be able to make a woman wet between the legs with just a smile and leave with a sweet memory.
But, today was not that day, as evidenced by the bruises forming on his side.
Zai swung and amazingly hit the man’s face. This seemed to only anger him though as Zai’s spindly arms, not yet strengthened with the testosterone formed bulk he would one day possess (he hoped), were useless at punching. Thankfully, he would never find out where this anger might lead. The grip was loosened and the cause was obvious. Akhmad had come to his aid. Relief mixed with a begrudging thankfulness that he needed help at all.
He was eager to be able to handle himself as Akhmad did in a situation of danger and he hated that he wasn’t there yet. Still, the pain in his side reminded him that he didn’t want any more and, if not for Akhmad, he would absolutely be receiving the beating of a lifetime. Zai stumbled back, holding his likely cracked ribs with his arm. With a wince, he heeded the mute man’s beckon and trotted to join him, taking one last look at the carnage and the woman who had made him cause it.
He gave Akhmed a sheepish grin after they were well enough away from the situation. “Sorry.” He said in a low, child-like voice much different from the one he used on the woman. He sighed. It would be up to Zai to explain his bruises once they retuned. As they walked, he wanted to beg Akhmed not to tell his brother but he knew the man would not say it in words anyway. Lying would only lose trust between them so he knew he would have to tell the truth. Perhaps his brother would go easy on him again.
As puberty hit, so did Zai's desires. His moves would improve over time as flirting with a woman likely eight years his senior and married to boot would be a hard learned lesson and not a satiation of his new found manhood. In the years to come, Zai would learn exactly whom to target to receive and give the sexual affection and intimacy he sought. It would be easy in the future, come almost naturally. One day, Zai would be able to make a woman wet between the legs with just a smile and leave with a sweet memory.
But, today was not that day, as evidenced by the bruises forming on his side.
Zai swung and amazingly hit the man’s face. This seemed to only anger him though as Zai’s spindly arms, not yet strengthened with the testosterone formed bulk he would one day possess (he hoped), were useless at punching. Thankfully, he would never find out where this anger might lead. The grip was loosened and the cause was obvious. Akhmad had come to his aid. Relief mixed with a begrudging thankfulness that he needed help at all.
He was eager to be able to handle himself as Akhmad did in a situation of danger and he hated that he wasn’t there yet. Still, the pain in his side reminded him that he didn’t want any more and, if not for Akhmad, he would absolutely be receiving the beating of a lifetime. Zai stumbled back, holding his likely cracked ribs with his arm. With a wince, he heeded the mute man’s beckon and trotted to join him, taking one last look at the carnage and the woman who had made him cause it.
He gave Akhmed a sheepish grin after they were well enough away from the situation. “Sorry.” He said in a low, child-like voice much different from the one he used on the woman. He sighed. It would be up to Zai to explain his bruises once they retuned. As they walked, he wanted to beg Akhmed not to tell his brother but he knew the man would not say it in words anyway. Lying would only lose trust between them so he knew he would have to tell the truth. Perhaps his brother would go easy on him again.