The Assassins of Mortain (Open and Accepting)

The Story: What kind of Assassin would you be if you could claim Death to be your Father? Though born of varying backgrounds to flesh and blood humans, the Assassins of Mortain bear the scars of attempted murder and thus belong to Mortain, Death himself. Some moment in their childhood someone tried to kill them - someone dealt them a fatal blow, held their head under water...worse things as well. But miraculously they survived and were found by Marcel Lux, the director of the Assassins of Mortain. They did not come out of their ordeal unscathed. They each bore a silvery scar across their throats in addition to the scars of their body and soul. Out of this great pain, sprang enormous power. Along with one unique power, each person could see the Mark of Mortain - an indicator on a human who was about to die.

Who is Mortain?

Spoiler

Mortain is Death himself. He seeks very few people each generation with immense strength of mind and body to bequeath powers to in order to bring about Death. He is a neutral and unseen presence though, and allows the bearer of his powers to decide if they want to represent Death's mercy, justice, vengeance or more.

The Setting:

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The setting is in Kingdom Breton. The technology is limited to pre-gunpowder and pre-industry. Gaston wears the crown and rules just and fair but is threatened from the inside by a military coup and outside by Kingdoms vying for his land. The religion is polytheistic though many will claim a Patron God or Goddess depending on their circumstance. For example, soldiers will worship the God of War, sailors the Goddess of the Sea, and you the God of Death.

The Assassins of Mortain:

Spoiler

Marcel Lux, known simply as Lux, is the director of the Assassins of Mortain. Bearing his own scar, and claiming to be following the will of Mortain, he seeks out those bearing the scar and trains them to be lethal assassins. He represents Death's eternity and has trained people to serve Death for countless years. Not only do those under his tutelage learn weaponry and self defense, but poisons, manipulation and how to master their unique power. Lux is allied with the throne, and thus sends his Assassins around the country and across borders to protect those who seek to bring it down.

Your Character:

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You are an Assassin of Mortain, enlisted by Lux to serve the Kingdom of Breton by protecting it from threats both internal and external. You are trained in the art of Death and bear one unique power bestowed upon you by Death when he gave you the scar across your neck. You are young and have yet to find what aspect of Death you stand for. You are not immortal but you are certainly more durable than others. You are impervious to poisons and have enhanced reflexes.

Name:
Gender:
Age(15-25):
Power:
Appearance:
Personality (Strengths/Weakness):
History:
Other:

I am accepting no more than 7 other people for this storybook. Please let me know if you have any questions. I really want this to be very collaborative so if you have any ideas for plot and etc. feel free to let me know!

I totally want to be in. Can I join?

I'd like to join!

Definitely, feel free to add your character on the right.

Reserving female assassin please.

In.

Hey guys! I'm excited for this but since this is my first storybook, I'm not quite sure of the protocol. I've been looking at the way others are doing it and following their lead, but let me know if I'm missing something important.

I'd also love to join.

Yeah, this sounds interesting. I'm in.

I'm in!^^

Oh, and is this based on Grave Mercy?

Is there still space?

I want in!

is there any room still?

Alina calmly reloaded her crossbow, staring down at the fat merchant king. An evil man, but quite harmlees. It had been easy to take him out. He stared in shock at the crossbow bolt in his chest." May Mortain take you!" He snarled, before going limp. Alina sighed and placed her crossbow in its holster." He already has. May you be judged fairly, and be given peace." She said, reciting the prayer of her people. She turned and left the small villa. Guards lay strewn around the room like limp dolls. Alina glanced at a guard who was still gasping for breath, his own dagger in his stomach. Calmly, Alina took the knife out. The man cried out in pain and fear as his life bled out. Alina kept walking.

Later that day, Alina was having a drink in a bar when agroup of drunk men entered calling for drinks and reaching for the barmaids. A large man sat down on the stool across from Alina. His breath smelled heavily of rum. He leered at her." Whats a pretty lady like you doing wandering around alone." He scooted closer. The bar tender was Alinas adopted father, so to speak, and smirked as Alina clenched her fists. He cleaned a bottle with his rag.
"Seems you need a man to run things for you." The drunk continued, scooting closer.Alina smiled sweetly and said]," and you would do that for me?" He , an smiled, not believing his luck, and leaned forward for a kiss, his hands searching for her body.. She grabbed his head and smashed it into the table. Then she kneed him in the nose, breaking it. He flewbackwards. His companions all laughed, and said." Markov, youre messing with one of the desert people! She'd kill you before she looked at you."

Alina smiled and helped Markov up." Well missy, I learned a thing or two." Markov said, wiping his bleeding nose. She nodded and left the bar. Outside, she whistled, and a black shadow emerged. She smiled and patted him on the neck." Hello Shahraz. Well, my friend, our contract is completed." She mounted the black stallion and turned north. Just then, another black shadow emerged, but of a human in a cloak. Alina blinked in suprise." Crow, what are you doing here?" Crow smiled and removed his hood. There is a meeting. Lux wants everyone there." Alina nodded and turned her horse east as Crow walked away. "Let the games begin." She muttered, kicking her horse into a gallop.

Spoiler

crazycraz, sorry if you didnt want your character being used but I want this sb to start

Jasper "Crow"

The near black fabric of his cloak brushed gently on the back of his heels as he walked. He was in the thicket of a town's market that he didn't know the name of, and he walked unnoticed among them, as everyone with a pair of eyes was focused on their own business. He wasn't wearing, or doing, anything to note either. Simply walking through the market, as most travelers wouldn't be likely recognized did. Out of the corner of an eye, he seemed perfectly ordinary, beside the cloak he wore; hair uncannily like a raven's feather could easily be first misplaced as simply dark as many men had dark hair, and as he leaned his head forward, little could be seen of his face so he was often dismissed as ordinary. Someone simply observing would notice that his face was quite handsome, and his eyes very unsettling, the color of the cold sky in hell. Whoever was curious would then quickly look away, because shortly after they would notice the stillness in his gaze and posture even as he moved, that could either be interpreted as well practiced efficiency or something more. Afterwards they would continue along with their lives, dismissing the sight of the young man as no one would want to get caught in whatever he was up to.

And he was up to something, indeed.

Jasper raised his head slightly so that his Adam's apple appeared against his throat. His eyes were still hidden mostly by his long curling hair, but his lips bent upwards at the end in a small childish smile. He cocked his head so his hair moved and revealed his left eye; as it should have been naturally dark blue, but ages of near blackness in his childhood eroded them until lighter circles appeared around his pupil. Clouds suffocated the sky, so he was able to move with ease during the daytime, as direct sunlight still continued to burn his eyes. It was one of many things that lightened his heart today.

Jasper slid behind a customer talking to the man at the street stand, silent enough that he could have walked up hours ago and still wouldn't be noticed. They were arguing, he understood; and though he cared very little about the conversation, it was hard not to pay attention when their voices rose over all the other noise in his head.

"-outrageous!" The customer shouted indignantly.

"If you don't like it, then try to get this elsewhere!" The merchant replied. He was a small thin man with a rabbit face, which was all puckered and red unattractively with anger. After a pause that could be compared to two street cats sizing each other up for a piece of rotten poultry, the customer hissed something rather rude and strutted away. After an equally rude line of words under the merchant's breath, he snatched the object that was in question and hid it in a loose fold of his clothing. Only then did he notice Jasper.

His demeanor quickly changed. "How may I help you, fine sir? I have potions that can't be found within a hundred roads from here, shipped overseas from the small kingdom of Gallur, a place I'm sure you haven't even heard of, very rare potions indeed. Silks that are as close as royalty that your pocket could get, very much worth the price. I have jewelry that no woman could refuse, pendants to ward off evil, even-" He stopped suddenly, leaning toward him and glancing rather candidly from side to side. "-Specialty items."

Jasper raised his eyebrows expressively at this, leaning towards the man and noting that the sky darkened and the streets slowed as dusk pulled at the light of the sky. "Specialty items?" He inquired.

The merchant nodded, still glancing around as if something unpleasant was hanging on his shoulders. He suddenly motioned with a flick of his wrist for Jasper to follow, and he slipped into the doorway behind the stand. Jasper followed. It must have been where the merchant lived, as a small table and set of chairs sat in the corner, unused. The walls were a simple color of light brown, and a coat rack stood alone. Besides that, the room was expressionless.

"Come here, come here." The merchant motioned. He snatched a box hidden behind the table and put it down to where Jasper could see. He opened it, flicking out a key from his sleeve and quickly putting it back, though Jasper could still see where it went. The man opened the box and inside sat four objects. One was a beautiful glittering silver stone attached to a small black chain, and another was a slim golden ring with a single blood red jewel on it. A small vial with liquid as black as ash rested next to it, slipping around in the glass. The last item was a knife so thin it almost looked fragile.

The merchant quickly gave the back story to the objects. "This poison is said to be powerful enough to turn a man's blood as black as Mortain himself, choking his heart until it stops, and all it needs is a prick and a drop. This necklace is said to protect against death and if the gods look down on you in favor, you will be able to get one wish granted. The knife is fine and sharp enough to slit a man's throat without the slightest bit of pressure. And this ring-" He picked it delicately between his fingers, "- is Gaston's fallen wife's. It's said that endless beauty is granted to the one that wears it." The merchant paused for dramatic affect, bursting from his pointed ears with smugness.

Jasper leaned in as if interested and said, "How much for all of it?"

Clearly taken aback, the merchant stared at him until wariness weighed his features, obviously starting to regret letting a complete stranger in on his stash. "Surely you don't really have enough on you to intend to-"

"Surely, I do." Jasper was getting impatient, a rarity. He never liked it when he had to act to get close. The man quickly calculated a price in his head, and then said, "Fifteen crowns."

Of course the price was outrageous; it was how he caught wind of the man that would show his stash to anyone half interested. He let his eyebrows raise, and then went as if to reach for his pocket. In a sudden movement the merchant had his hand around the delicate blade and was moving as if to slash Jasper's arm, a panicked look on his face, but Jasper had already traced the black ring around his neck with his own dagger. He gurgled, and then fell to the ground, the knife skittering away as it had never made it to its target.

Jasper hovered over the poor man as a crimson smile grinned up at him, Jasper's features falling out of the facade he had played and into his distant expression he usually wore. Carefully he picked up the discarded knife and replaced it next to the poison, closing the top that immediately clicked with an automatic lock. He started humming as he lifted the limp body into one of the chairs, putting his arms on the table and adjusting the merchant's head as if he was merely spacing off as he waited for dinner to be made. He took the key and the fifth object that the previous customer had wanted, which was a sheet of rumpled parchment with hastily written words on its front. He tucked both of the items, and the box, in his cloak and smiled as he emerged into the dark of the night, whispering words of the traitor merchant's soul being given in the name of Mortain.

He then went in search of Alina, the other reason he was there. She was supposed to be here on a mission, and knowing her even vaguely, he knew she was probably already finished. He wandered in the direction of her presence, a gift of sensing the sons and daughters of Mortain that they were all gifted with, and waited at the edge of the woods that bordered a tavern called 'The Rusty Dragon' where she fed and drank inside. By sheer luck he had waited barely a few moments before she huffed outside, her attractive features twisted in annoyance. She whistled, low and slow, and her large stallion emerged from the underbrush. She patted the beast's side, murmuring words meant to soothe, and swiftly mounted the horse. Jasper slid from the cover of the shadows to stand in front of her, surprise lightening her features as she saw him.

"Crow, what are you doing here?" She said. In reply, Jasper simply smiled and slid the hood from his head so she could see him better. "There is a meeting," Jasper said, punctuating the words in his unfamiliar fashion. "Lux wants everyone there."

She nodded, and nudged her horse away. Jasper slid his hood back on and walked back the way he came, his lips tweaking up once again in its shy, childish way. Nights like this was where Jasper thrived, when the moon was hidden and shadows could be scarcely made out. He could see now, in a way that not even the other Assassins of Mortain could, as their eyes had not grown in complete darkness when growth was essential. He should have feared the dark, but instead he felt it was more welcoming than the painful brightness everyone else walked in. Somewhere in the trees was the call of a crow, and then two others responded. He could feel their small black eyes watch him, could hear the flutter of their wings. His smile grew, and in a haunting melody he sang to them as they listened.

Spoiler

I won't post this long in the future.