| Virrilis looked to his double incredously, his blades never waivering from their dangerous positions.
Sethin offer another odd smirk, and sheathed his blade, both blades disappearing behind the cascading sheet of hair. "I thought as much." He took a couple steps forward. "Indeed, I worked for Pasha Trium, and for a time, he rewarded me."
The bladesinger kept his gaze locked on Sethin as he neared, unsure of what to expect.
"He betrayed me, you know. Ironic, don't you think? I was an agent of his that elminated those that betrayed him, but what happens he betrays me?"
"You speak as though I should pity you..." Virrilis raised his scimitar up, as if preparing to attack the double. "You are a creation evil. A minion summoned by Lazal. You deserve no less then death!"
Sethin smirked again. "It is not so simple, Virrilis." Sethin slowly removed one of the tough leather gloves from his hands, and took a small trinket from a pouch hanging from his belt. Virrilis watched, unsure of what to make of it. The trinket, a cylinder no larger thena tiny stone engraved with a series of markings, appeared simple in nature, but the way Sethin looked at it betrayed it's true value. Sethin glanced at the Bladesinger. "Interesting, no? It's an artifact of ancient Nethril. Something the Pasha went to great lengths to have me acquire." He quickly palmed the trinket and returned it to the pouch.
"You avoid the facts, demon..." Virrilis edged close slightly, his body tensed tightly, ready to spring at the first instant. "I care only in my mission to cleanse the lands of your taint!"
"Fool!" Sethin waved his hand across his field of vision, as if emphasizing the word. "I am a product of you! For one with the gift of magic, it is astounding you would not realize such a fact!"
Virrilis merely quirked his brow, unsure of where the conversation was headed.
"It was more than a simple Simulcrum spell that Lazal cast upon you! A demon prince of such power wouldn't trouble himself with such inadequete sorcery." Sethin took another step close, within arm reach of Virrilis' blades. Before the Bladesinger could react, Sethin's ungloved hand shot out, and grabbed the fine edge of the scimitar, and gripped it tightly enough. A thin line of crimson ran the edge of the blade, and Sethin grimaced slightly with the stinging pain. On the other side, Virrilis mimiced the image of Sethin, his own face knotting up, fighting a sharp pain, a thin train of blood running down his own forearm.
Almost as swiftly as Sethin grabbed the blade, he released it. With a couple deep breaths, he regained his composure, and began to idle turn a loose bit of material from his clothing to creating a turnacott. Virrilis fought with himself to maintain a hold of the dirk being held by his now bloodied hand. "Perhaps you understand now. I am very much you, as you are me, Bladesinger. It is why I have allowed you to find me. If the Pasha kills me, he kills you."
"I'm touched that my death would mean so much to you..." Virrilis snarled the sarcastic remake back towards his clone.
"Don't be. The Pasha is no novice to the arcane. He was smart enough to devise my origin, and was smart enough to realize that if he were to kill the original, I would die as well." Sethin bit one end of the bandage, and gave a tug with his other hand, tightening the quickly reddening material. After a moment, he turned his attention back to Virrilis. "This is why I wished to find you. I have little desire to die, and I am sure you do not wish to forfeit your life either."
"If I could drag you to the hells themselves, then I do not see the porblem..." Virrilis said definatly, still not moving to stanch the flow of blood from his hand.
"Drop the righteousness!" Sethin turned his body towards the exit of the maze of derelict buildings. "There is far too much of you in me for me to think you are that self sacrificing! For instance, the human woman. Would you wish to simply leave her?" Sethin twisted his body to face Virrilis, a knowing smirk on his face.
"Thought not." he added.
Virrilis looked to Sethin, his head swimming in what he was being told. "Then you seek an alliance, or a truce?"
"Neither, if I could help it. But, as I said, since Lazal brought me into this world, I have had little desire to leave it." Sethin turned and walked towards Virrilis, who was begining to drop his blades. "I merey suggest we leave Calimshan together. Once done, and out of Pasha Trium's sphere of influence. He is a lesser Pasha of the city, and his power does not stretch far. You help me, and I'll help you from being killed, which result in my own death." Sethin offered his gloved hand to Virrilis.
After a tense moment of silence between the two, the two blades of the Bladesinger were returned to their sheathes, and he clasped his hand in Sethin's. "We settle this when we are out of the Pasha's reach."
"I would have it no other way..." Sethin then looked towards the darkened holes serving as windows in the derelict buildings, and then to the adjoining alleyways. As he let go of Virrilis' hand, something cought his eye in one of the darkened windows. A glint of steel. "Down!" Sethin sprung over Virrilis, knocking both to the ground, the crossbow quarrel whistling by harmlessly overhead, yet dangerously close.
The Pasha's Assassin's began to crawl from the darkness...  |