Chapitre 9: First Mission
"The first one is from Lady Célia, a noblewoman whose sister has gone missing. She suspects foul play, possibly related to the recent activities of the Thieves' Guild." He turned the pages, his calloused fingers brushing over the entries. "The reward is a hefty one: fifty silver coins and a favor to be claimed at a later date."
„Thieves' Guild? Unfortunately, I've barely been in contact with them, otherwise this job would be much easier." Aldwyn thought about it for a moment.
„The reward isn't that bad, the coins are nice but the favor is more interesting. But I think there will be limits regarding how far the favor goes."
Master Sewell continued, his eyes scanning the ledger. "Another interesting contract," he said, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "It comes from the merchant guild. They've had a string of thefts in their warehouses, and they suspect it's an inside job. They need someone to infiltrate their ranks, find the culprit, and retrieve the stolen goods."
He paused, his gaze meeting Aldwyn's. "The reward for this one is fifteen gold coins and a letter of recommendation that could open doors for you across Nyrmoria."
„Fifteen gold? And a letter of recommendation? That sounds very promising. But it is also very time-consuming."
Master Sewell's gaze fell on another entry in the ledger, his expression shifting to one of concern. "The third contract is of a more... sensitive nature," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The Church of the Silent Night has approached us with a delicate matter. They've lost an artifact of significant religious importance—a relic called the Tear of the Fallen Star."
He closed the ledger with a thump. "The Church is offering two hundred gold coins and a private audience with the High Priestess for its return. But they want absolute discretion. No one outside of this room can know you're working for them."
„Two hundred gold? Holy shit that's a lot. This mission is probably extremely difficult, that's probably the reason why it has such a high reward." Aldwyn was speechless for a moment.
He regained his composure and asked, "Can I keep everything from the reward or does the guild get a share?"
Master Sewell's eyes narrowed slightly. "The guild takes a ten percent cut from all contracts. It's how we maintain our operations and ensure the continued protection of our members."
„Ten percent is acceptable. No matter which mission I take, I have a lot of money remaining. It would be stupid of me to take the highest-paid one... It's best to start at the bottom and work my way up slowly."
After a moment of contemplation, Aldwyn made his decision. "I'll take the first job," he said firmly. "The missing noblewoman's sister. It seems like a good place to start."
„Fifty silver and the favor is more than enough for a start. Maybe the other contracts will still be available later on."
Master Sewell nodded, his expression unreadable. He took a scroll from the ledger and slid it across the desk. "You're wise to choose carefully," he said. "The Thieves' Guild is not to be underestimated, especially when it comes to matters of the nobility."
Aldwyn unfurled the scroll, his eyes scanning the parchment. It contained a detailed description of Lady Célia's sister, Lady Yesenia, and the circumstances of her disappearance. According to the scroll, she had been seen in the company of a mysterious figure before she vanished without a trace.
"I need to talk to Lady Célia," Aldwyn said, his mind racing with the possibilities of the case. "Where can I find her?"
Master Sewell leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the scroll in Aldwyn's hand. "Lady Célia's estate is in the upper echelons of the city. She's a recluse these days, but she'll see you if you mention the guild's name."
He scribbled an address onto a piece of parchment and handed it to Aldwyn. "Here," he said gruffly. "You'll find her there."
....
The journey to Lady Célia's estate was a stark reminder of the stark contrast between the prosperous and the destitute. As the carriage climbed the winding streets of Helgarde, the buildings grew grander, the cobblestones smoother, and the air cleaner. The stench of poverty and desperation that had clung to the lower districts was replaced by the sweet scent of flowers and the distant chime of bells from the churches.
The carriage finally stopped in front of an imposing mansion, its walls adorned with intricate stone carvings of mythical creatures and ancient runes that whispered of power and wealth. The gates were guarded by two stoic men-at-arms in gleaming armor, their eyes unyielding as Aldwyn approached.
"Lady Célia expects me," he said, flashing the griffin badge.
The guards exchanged a look before one of them stepped aside and opened the gate with a creak. The other nodded curtly, and Aldwyn passed through, his boots clicking against the cobblestone path that led to the mansion's entrance.
The mansion was a bastion of opulence, with ornate pillars holding up a balcony adorned with velvet curtains that fluttered in the breeze. The door was a massive slab of oak, reinforced with iron bands.
„Why the hell is she paying me just fifty silver coins for the job? She's obviously fucking rich..."
Aldwyn approached and knocked. The sound reverberated through the quiet evening, echoing in the courtyard. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing a well-dressed servant who looked him up and down before allowing him entry.
The interior of the mansion was as grand as its exterior, with a high-ceilinged foyer adorned with chandeliers that cast a warm glow on the gleaming marble floor. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting scenes of noble deeds and battles long past. The servant led him through a labyrinth of corridors to a drawing room where Lady Célia awaited.
Her beauty was like a painting, captured in a moment of sorrow. Her skin was pale as moonlight, a stark contrast to the raven locks that cascaded down her back. Her eyes, a deep, mournful blue, searched his face for any hint of deceit or pity. She was dressed in a gown of midnight blue, the color of the darkest part of the night sky, which clung to her slender frame. The fabric shimmered with silver threads that wove through it, reflecting the light of the candles like stars.
Lady Célia's voice was a soft melody, filled with a sadness that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the mansion. "Thank you for coming," she said, her eyes never leaving Aldwyn's. "I fear for my sister's safety. The streets of Helgarde are not kind to those who wander them unprotected."
Aldwyn nodded gravely. "I understand your concern. I will do my utmost to locate Lady Yesenia and uncover the truth behind her disappearance."
"I still have to ask, the contract says that apart from the fifty silver, a favor will be given to me as a reward. How far can this favor go?"
Lady Célia's gaze remained unwavering. "My favor is not unlimited, but within reason, it will be substantial. If you bring my sister back to me unharmed, or find out what has truly happened to her, I will owe you a debt of gratitude that I shall not soon forget."
Her words hung in the air, laden with desperation and hope. Aldwyn nodded, "I'll need all the information you have on Lady Yesenia's last known whereabouts, her habits, and any enemies or associations she might have had."
Lady Célia gestured to a nearby chair, her movements elegant despite her distress. "Please, sit," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I will tell you what I know."
As Aldwyn took a seat, she began to recount the last time she saw her sister. Lady Yesenia had been attending a masquerade ball at the Royal Palace, a grand event where the city's elite mingled and conducted their shadowy affairs. It was there she had been seen with a man in a crimson mask, a figure who had been following her through the crowded halls, his intentions unknown.
"After the ball, she returned home, but she was... different," Lady Célia's voice grew softer, her eyes distant. "Her laughter had a hollow ring to it, and she spoke of strange dreams that plagued her sleep."
Aldwyn leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "What do you mean by 'different'?"
Lady Célia took a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the arms of her chair. "Her behavior grew erratic, her moods swings wild. She spoke of nightmares, of a feeling of being watched, even in the safest corners of our home. And then one night, she simply didn't come back."
"The way you describe it to me, I wonder why the Thieves' Guild is being blamed for this?" Aldwyn asked thoughtfully.
Lady Célia's gaze grew steely. "Because my sister had enemies, Mr. Aldwyn. Enemies who would benefit from her disappearance. The Thieves' Guild is known for their cunning and their ability to vanish without a trace. It's not a stretch to think they could be involved."
Aldwyn nodded, "I'll need to visit the last place she was seen," he said, his mind already racing with potential leads and strategies. "The Royal Palace's masquerade ball."
Lady Célia's eyes widened slightly. "The Palace? But it's been weeks since the ball. They won't allow you to just wander in unannounced."
"Fear not, Lady Célia," Aldwyn said with a small, cold smile. "I have my ways." With these words, Aldwyn took his leave and left the mansion.
....
The night had deepened, and the moon was a mere sliver in the sky as he made his way to the lower districts of Helgarde. The shadows grew longer and denser, a perfect cover for his newfound abilities as a Assassin. He felt the power coursing through his veins, the whisper of the Darkness at the edge of his consciousness. He had to admit, the sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating.
He hired a carriage for himself and twenty minutes later, 8 bronze poorer, he arrived at the area outside the Royal Palace.
The Royal Palace was a sprawling fortress of gleaming stone that stood as a testament to the city's wealth and power. The masquerade ball was long over, but the memories of that fateful night lingered like a ghostly echo. The guards were less vigilant than he had expected, a testament to their overconfidence in the Palace's security. He slipped past them, his form blending with the shadows as if he were one of the night's own creatures.
„Unbelievable, they don't notice me. My movements are almost completely silent."
With his newfound agility, Aldwyn scaled the walls with an unsettling ease, his twin blades sheathed and silent at his side. The climb was a dance of precision, each hand and foot finding purchase where a mortal would find none. The balconies looked down upon the city like the gaze of an indifferent god.
As he reached the top, the guards patrolled the battlements with a lazy rhythm. Their eyes were not accustomed to the night's cloak, and they overlooked the shadow that had become a part of it. He moved through the Palace like a phantom, his steps barely disturbing the dust that had gathered in the corners. The grandeur of the halls was lost on him.
Aldwyn eyes scanned the walls adorned with the faces of long-dead kings and queens, their eyes seemingly following him through the labyrinth of corridors.
„Fucking hell, why does every rich person have to own such enormous residences..."
He made his way to the grand ballroom, the epicenter of the masquerade. The walls were adorned with velvet drapes, their deep red color a stark contrast to the gleaming gold trim that outlined the arched windows. The floor was a mosaic of marble, depicting scenes of gods and battles.
The room was empty, the chandeliers above were dark, but the moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting eerie patterns on the floor. It was easy to imagine the room filled with the laughter and whispers of the city's elite, the air thick with secrets and deceit.
Aldwyn's gaze fell upon a set of double doors at the far end of the ballroom, the crimson fabric of the curtains pulled back to reveal polished mahogany panels with intricate gold detailing. He approached them with a sense of purpose.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone