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They were playing a dangerous game. All of them knew that, but none of them would deny the appeal of the lucrative opportunity. They were professionals by nature, some of the finest spawned upon the streets of Nexus Prime, and there were some like Nimavel whose legendary exploits had been conducted so secretly that only the Gods could stand by in awe.
But tonight, the criminals of Chelseanna would be struck a blow from the dwarven bartenders and their unidentified benefactors. Nimavel and his cohort would be the arms and legs of that organization, striking like starving vipers and leaving no remnants of their victims. They had come to Chelseanna with a plan, one that, despite earlier setbacks, was waiting to be unleashed upon their targets.
Following the dwarf past two doors and towards the harbor, the Lord of House Mynendil surveyed the shadowy waters with nothing more than a cursory glance. He did not look from side to side as he would have done as a younger elf, for his perpetual Shadow Gaze had ways of providing fair warning of potential traps and ambushes with but a mere thought. Waiting for his comrades to gather behind him, Nimavel nodded tersely and accompanied Zoric to a small schooner anchored a short distance away.
“Well met, Captain.”
Nimavel said as the sailor presented himself. Eyeing the man apathetically for no more than a few seconds, the assassin gestured towards the boat to his companions and waited for them to alight into the vessel and unload their equipment. It had been a long journey to Chelseanna and some of them, no doubt, had been afflicted by fatigue during the course of the sojourn.
Waiting until the dwarf left before returning to the ship, the Heru Mynendil glanced one last time to the darkened horizon, naturally wondering what his wife was doing now. They had come to Chelseanna on their honeymoon, and while it was still very much the occasion, Nimavel had arrived with ulterior plans outside of the typical lovemaking and quality time that most people usually spent with their spouses.
But it would be over soon.
Resting his head against the railing of the ship, the elfin lord meditated and focused his thoughts, waiting and anticipating for their window of opportunity to present itself. It would, he knew, and he could not afford to be distracted. None of them could.
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