Scandalous (Swift)

Recruiting even in backwards places like the fight club always made her leery. She didn't trust anyone particularly well. Except to trust the basic fact that people would say anything, do anything to survive. She was no different in this aspect. As she approached the location of the Fight Club, she got a glimpse of Swift, her partner for this particular duty. Recruitment was tricky. How did she know that the person wishing to join was not a spy for the Telgar Guards or Lord Holder? She didn't. But she would find out.

The building was as usual, packed with men and women who were willing to do whatever it took to impress the Chorong enough to be allowed into their ranks. The first floor smelled of sweat and leather. She didn't much care for it. Then she wasn't one for living a rough life, not when she could have whatever she required or needed. Upstairs was a bit more private. The balcony was where she was generally directed to. Sorcha had never participated in the fight club which was probably for the best. Most of her competitors would never come back... they would be dead. Thinking about it, she figured the club was much more tame than the realities of life in the Hold.

Approaching the entrance to the balcony, she nodded to the men there. "I see we are busy again tonight. Make sure to direct my contact upstairs when he arrives."

Sorcha might have worn less colorful clothing than she normally did on a job but she was much better dressed than everyone else there. She had donated plenty of her own marks to the cause but her outfits and jewelry were hers to keep in payment for her other life, the life that kept her in business in the real world. Taking down her hood, revealed the young, innocent seeming face. Her blue eyes did not miss anything. They were scanning every inch of the balcony before she attempted to go up the stairs.

Picking Sorcha out of the crowd was easy, dressed the way she was, so as the woman came through the door, making her way to the stairs leading up to the balcony, Swift watched after her momentarily. Stifling a yawn, he pushed himself off from the wall where he leaned, starting in that direction. The guard at the steps admitted him and he ascended after her.

Swift went to one of the chairs placed for their viewing of the entertainment ring below, seating himself indolently with one arm slung to rest over the back of the chair, his legs wide.

"I can't wait to see if our candidate comes back tonight to win a few more rounds. If he does, I'll let the guards know to pull him aside after the competition." Swift laughed then, seeming a little giddy with anticipation, "Ohhh, let's hope he's as unpredictable as last time. He certainly made things interesting last week when fighting that woman."

With little exaggerated sigh, Swift leaned his head in the direction of Sorcha, casting her a sidelong glance, "I still think she had no chance of winning against him in the first place, but...maybe next time. She'd probably do well for us with someone like you to train her." The young man's eyes lowered briefly with a blink, giving Sorcha's form a once-over before his eyes lifted once more to find her own. Swift knew how dangerous Sorcha was and had no lack of respect for her abilities. He'd seen her in action a few times since he joined the Chorong. Regardless, she was still a woman, and he had his own views on where most women stood in the ranks of society.

"Then again. Maybe she's just another that can't be trusted." After all, she was a woman, and women would lie and deceive, even sell themselves to achieve their ends. Even if Sorcha was any more trusting than she was, given her own sweet disposition and particular methods, surely she couldn't blame him for making such an observation. "But alas, that would make one less for you to dispose of.. So! When we're here, which is it you are really hoping for? To find an eager recruit? Or to find someone else to kill before they give our secret recruiting hub away? Or...is there some perfect balance between the two which suits you better?"

Being this talkative, Swift must be in a fairly good mood today. His lips had curled into a faint smile as he watched his counterpart. Truthfully, Swift was somewhat glad that as spies, they both had their own territory so to speak, so they didn't have to be together all the time. Swift didn't mind working with Sorcha when he had to but he preferred working alone -Less baggage that way. Not to mention, the girl was so intense he wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with being around her all day every day. But then, he assumed, the more time you spent in the company of someone, the more accustomed to them you became, so things would have certainly gotten easier.


As they were waiting for the matches to begin, Swift glanced back toward the stairs leading up to the balcony, wondering when Sorcha's informant would be arriving.

Sorcha smiled sweetly, "We'll have to see what happens." Being unpredictable could be a good thing but it also made her uneasy. If he was unpredictable as a fighter, he might be a spy or worse. The woman as he spoke of her sounded tough but if she had been one iota like herself there would have been no way the man would have won. She would rather die and kill the enemy than allow him to walk away unscathed.

"Weak." She said glaring down at the arena. "She deserved to lose. As will he one day." Turning her attention from the crowd of dirty people below, she rested her blue gaze on Swift. "I do not train." Not only did she have no interest in the position but her father had deemed it wise to keep her away from the new recruits.  

"Trust? What makes you think anyone here is trustworthy?" Least of all her.They were at a club where they beat eachother to a pulp to get glory and respect but they had no intention of killing. If they had to use violence to express themselves they really ought to kill their victims. Survival of the fittest. The person who came out alive might be worthy of the rebels but he or she would have to undergo the same process as anyone else.

"Oh so your hands aren't stained with the blood of your enemies Swift?" Her eyes were still locked on him. She knew things about people that most people did not. She made it her personal business to know them. Even if she did not learn the whole story she knew bits and pieces about Swift that perhaps he was unaware that she knew. Then most who joined the Chorong should not be surprised if she learned as much about them as she could as quickly as she could.

She looked away, her voice lowering. "I will only kill the one who is leaking information to the Telgar Guard." She had orders and although it would be easy to say she was following orders it would also be denying that she got pleasure from taking lives. Watching the breath leave their body, seeing the light leave their eyes. It was a powerful feeling. She was almost addicted to it at times.

Sorcha knew it wasn't normal or probably healthy really but she had come to far to go back even if she wanted to. She'd never been blind to the realities of the world. And the reality was, the world she lived in was kill or be killed. Control the people around you or allow yourself to be the puppet.

Sorcha was right. Few people, let alone people here, were trustworthy; but the fact that people could be trusted to serve their own interests made them predictable -and thereby, trustworthy in that sense. The men and women who were victors here in the fight-club ring, would either be swayed to serve the cause of the Chorong Rebels, or they would be killed. Their power could not serve them unless they had a cause, and the Chorong would give them an cause that many could easily emphathize with. Unless their interests were the same, that is as far as their victories here would take them. Even then...Swift knew that their time might very well be limited.


"Oh so your hands aren't stained with the blood of your enemies Swift?"

Though he hadn't answered her about any of it, letting the questions hang rhetorically, he smirked, turning his attention back to the fight ring where contestants now pitted themselves against one another.

Swift sat quietly with her, watching the combatants swing at eachother. One of the men fell back, being struck solidly, nearly toppling over the rail that surrounded the ring. Spectators gasped and lurched back frightfully before starting to shout and cheer again. The first two or three matches were won quickly, narrowing down their candidates effectively. It would only get more interesting though, as the night drew on and the victors of each match began being pitted against one another. Those would be the matches to look foward to.

For the time being, things were a bit of a bore. Swift's keen ears however, caught the sound of footsteps coming up from the bottom floor well ahead of the person's arrival. He guessed that it would be Sorcha's informant.

Sorcha viewed the silence as acquiescing. If she were anything but correct in her assumption, he would have disagreed. So she too turned her attention to the fighting below. Watching this kind of fighting held little pleasure for her however she could pretend to be enjoying herself.

The approach of her informant was not lost on her. he was about as stealthy as a rising Queen dragon. It was a wonder he was able to extract information at all. Rolling her eyes to herself she pretended not to notice the man's noisy approach. Maybe he had nothing to fear, nothing to hide. She rather doubted that. A smirk rested upon her oval face. Indeed, he had every reason to be afraid. The fact that he wasn't irritated her beyond belief and sent her to thinking about how completely trusting he was. Indeed he must come by his information easily.

When the informant finally made it up the stairs to stand behind her, she turned slowly. Her expression now neutral. She nodded to the man as if to tell him to carry on, " My Lady, I have it."

"You do?" She asked, her voice monotone. "Tell me. You can speak in front of my companion." She said, indicating Swift.
It was sad really, stringing the poor man along. There was only one way he could have gathered the information. He was a double agent. She knew that because she had set up the scenario as a test to gauge his loyalty to the Rebels.

Her eyes were down cast as he spoke, hiding their expression. The information was important sounding but Sorcha had already learned of what he was saying. When he finished, she lifted her eyes, a new expression sparkled there, delight. It was not the information but the feeling of catching a rat in the proces of ratting more information to the enemy.

"How long?" She asked, walking slowly behind the man, he dress trailing a little as she walked.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

She leaned in and whispered, "How long have you been working with them?" The whisper carried enough that Swift could hear if he wanted. She had whispered for effect. The other man had begun to tremble.

"Please don't kill me. I'm weak, I wanted the marks..." He was trembling more now though Sorcha had yet to draw a weapon. Slowly she let her hair down, taking the small dagger there and holding it in her hand.

"Weakness will not be tolerated." She said, slitting the man's throat so that he couldn't scream out. She held him as he fell, leaning his body into hers, like a mother might hold her sick child. As he bled out quickly, her face was alight with the joy of seeing him die. To have power over someone's death was almost greater than having power over their life.

"Swift." She said softly, her voice more childlike now. It was almost as if she were two different people. The one who spoke now was not the same as the one who had just killed a man, the brain wanted to believe this because of how her voice sounded. However there was no mistake, she killed for the thrill of killing. "Tell your recruit to meet me outside. We have outgrown our welcome."

Half-listening to the conversation Sorcha held with the informant as he also still watched what was going on in the ring below, Swift felt that he knew what was coming when the dangerous woman followed behind him as he'd been about to make his escape.

Yes. His escape.

"Please don't kill me. I'm weak, I wanted the marks..."

Swift almost laughed, a grim smirk pulling at one side of his mouth more than the other, lopsidedly.

Next, the soft sound of unpleasant realities befalling the informant seemed louder than they should have been to his ears; it was something he was unable to block out. Though he didn't flinch, seeming unmoved by the dying man, Swift still possessed more compassion than Sorcha did. Unfortunately, such measures were necessary sometimes. It really couldn't be helped. It was the informant who'd dared to think he could play both sides of the field simultaneously, anyway.


After a moment, Swift cast a glance back to where Sorcha stood, beseeching him to bring their latest candidate to an alternate meeting place. When she spoke of outgrowing welcomes, he didn't have to glance back at the body to determine why. Not to mention, it was a possibility that the blood that now drained from her victim may have begun dripping through the seams in the floorboards, to the crowd below. Someone might notice and call the Hold Guard to attention. And that was attention they didn't need.

"Yes. I will do that."



After Sorcha had gone, Swift watched the ring for a moment longer, considering the man he'd bring to them next. Without waiting for the fight in the ring to end however, he got up and made his way down the stairs. One hand shoved into a pocket, he stopped beside the bouncer there, pointing with a thumb back over one shoulder in the direction from which he'd come. "There seems to have been a fight up there. Some people take competition in the rings way too seriously. You may want to go check on it and clean up after the mess, if there is one."

Alarmed, the guard at the bottom of the stairs agreed, turning to hurry off to disperse of a possibly undesirable situation breaking out. Of course, there was no helping what had already happened, as he would find out.

Swift on the other hand, moved toward the ring and cheered, clapping for the victor, who was the man he'd suspected would come out on top all along. As if nothing had happened, he waited for the victor to step out of the ring and off to the side of the crowds where he could catch his breath and quench his thirst with water. Swift moved beside the man, placing both hands back in his pockets as he started in conversational tone, "You've got a fair amount of skill, and I've got a job that needs doing. Will you listen?"

Leaving the lure in the open for the victor to bite at, it didn't take long to know he had the man's attention. The man toweled his face dry, taking a drink before answering,  "Does it pay?"

"That depends on you."

Even more curious now, the victor seemed to be sizing Swift up, trying to gauge what kind of man it was he was facing. Seemingly undecided, he went on to inquire again, "Depends on me, huh? Well, what kind of job is it?"

Brilliant question. Swift refrained from rolling his eyes, answering in circular-logical fashion, "One that will require the skills that you have."

Amused and even more curious now, the victor chortled under his breath and then agreed. "Alright. I'll listen."

"Good. Follow me." Swift had interjected his direction before the other man had any opportunity to speak otherwise. Then, he immediately started for the rear entrance of the facility, where Sorcha would be waiting outside.

It was easy to leave the crowded establishment and make it out, unnoticed by anyone. Unlike the man who lay dead upstairs, Sorcha knew how to be quiet and keep herself practically invisible. Her hood was back up as she exited the building. Plenty of people came in and left the club at all times during the fighting that it was not really uncommon for someone to be on their way already. Sorcha walked far enough from the entrance, she wouldn't be noticed. Leaning, her upper back on a tree, one of her feet was lifted to the tree to balance her stance. She was almost comfortable.

Once in place, she waited patiently. Err, well as patiently as she could being that she wasn't the most calm or inclined to stay put now there was a dead body in the building before her. When Swift came out of the building she pushed herself off of the tree and eyed the newcomer. She took in his height, what weapons he may have on him, what he was wearing, how his facial features were at this moment.

Extending a slender gloved hand, the young woman welcomed the newcomer. A charming smile was on her young features though her hood might make them hard to discern. "Such a pleasure to meet you at long last. My companion has told me of your great feats in the ring." Sorcha removed her hand and went on to ask, "Do you enjoy fighting in the ring?" While it seemed she was only being polite, Sorcha rarely did anything without a purpose. One of the few things which made her seem older than her sixteen turns.

"Now, are you prepared to hear everything? Once you do, there is no going back..." Meaning if he declined after she told him, it would mean two dead men instead of one. She figured Swift would have picked a man with a strong constitution, not a fickle man. Hopefully he would be prepared for his fate. One way or another, it was likely this man would die.