Vengence is best served cold .......

[Ekaterina]

For quite some time she had been away from the Port City, and it wasn't to hide out, as so many of those arrogant bastards that were out to get her would claim. No, in fact her absence had been for an more malevolent intent. First it would have those who still sought to place a dagger in her back, to lower their guard; become a bit more relaxed in thinking they were safe to continue on with the pilferage's.

She had placed a very accomplices man to over look things in her absence. A man she found she could come to trust, and in the most strange of ways. He was one of her deceased husbands close associates. To many he was viewed as a crook, scoundrel, and womanizer. To her, she knew what he was, and he knew her intent, they both had alot to gain in the wake of this plan working out. He would over see all her assets, maintain the books and keep tabs on what was being stolen on a weekly basis. To keep these books hidden in a pre-chosen area for her to find in secret. A manner of communication that transpired with the use of a white crow familiar. It was just a matter of letting days turn into months, then to years of her departure.

But that was all about to change, unwitting to those self loving nobles that thought they had it all worked out; and to their favor. It would be under the cover of a moonless night that horse and rider would approach the Port City and towards the cliffs where the stately manors rested. It wouldn't take long for word to get out about her return, once she was back at her manor. So she'd have to strike tonight, a prelude to that very announcement.

Having previewed the ledgers maintained by Radcliffs hand, she had an indication of the one who took the greatest advantage in trying to rob her blind; under the guise of having the right to do so. To the stately manor of one Duke Franklin Von Drevel is where she'd now head. Tonight she rode light in weight, but dark in form. Adorned in that black leather armor, it's multiple spaces filled with the tools of her trade. A simple cloak of dark wool was worn atop, it's hood drawn up to maintain features beneath the cover of it's shadows.

She'd make her way around to an open window and slip inside. The house was silent, all having gone to their beds. Servants upon mats in the kitchen. Silent were those predatorial movements as she eased her way to the stairwell, and then slowly up them. At the top she'd pause and listen. Not a sound to be heard as she turned and made her way to his rooms. She had learned he slept alone, his wife preferring her room at the furthest end of the hall from his. As to why this arrangement, the Norse gave a thought or care. It just made her job easier, and one less to contend with.

Outside his room, she'd press an ear to his door, while eyes were trained upon the hall towards the stairs. The sound of loud snoring came from within. A hand to doorknob and it would slowly turn, with well maintained ease. The door gave way to the slightest push, and soon she was on the other side, closing and locking it behind her.

Once within, she gave a moment for her eyes to adjust, the dim remnants of a fire in the fireplace would emit just enough of a glow to allow visualization of surroundings. It was then she seen the bed, and his sprawled out sleeping form upon it. He looked like a beached whale laid out upon his back. Arms sprawled out at each side, mouth wide open as he snored loudly.

With a grace of ease, stealth in motion would carry her closer to that bed, a dagger in left hand as the right began to work free a small hidden pocket of that armor. Still the man snored. Soon she was at the bedside, gazing down on those pig like features of the man. Large jowls that quivered slightly with the snore that emitted. A bulbous nose rested above too thin of lips wide open to expose throat.

No hesitation as she set to the task at hand, the dagger quickly placed back to her side as both hands now set into motion. A small wooden box pulled free of the pocket, along with a long thin dart. Easing up to the beds side, the small box would be opened first. This would be her sacrifice for the night, for the life of the man was anything but such. From the box ten black widow spiders would be released, a couple shook out to land on his chest, then shoulders, the rest upon his face; and purposely seeing to entered that gaping jaw.

What she found amazing, is that it didn't even roust the Duke, even from the two now crawling deeper into his mouth and towards his throat. It was then she struck with the dart in hand. Before he would realize what was happening, she stabbed him three times; once in the throat, one just above his heart, and the third time in the shoulder. The barbed spikes on the dart to deliver a fatal dose of those very widows venom.

She'd draw back, tossing the dart into the fires embers to be destroyed. It was then she was out of his bedroom, and quickly making her way down the stairs by way of sliding along the handrails surface. To hit the floor running and just as she arrived to the front door she heard his first scream. This made her smirk and even pause to look back, before she was out the door and closed it in her wake. No sooner had it shut, the staff from the kitchen came bursting out and was running up the stairs.

By time the first member of the household was able to get into the Dukes bedroom, she was upon her horse and already heading down the road. Then by time they managed to awaken the Duchess to get their orders, she would be riding into the stable of her manor. By time they had a messenger rushed to the local doctors and to get words to the other nobles, she was in the manor and in her room, preparing for bed in the darkness of the night. By time the doctor had been dispatched and the first noble alerted, she was sound asleep in her bed with a smile upon her lips. Ready to face what may be in the morning, but for tonight, a thief was dead; and by the doctors documentation, death by natural causes, black widow bites.

[Ekaterina]

Night encompasses the land like a soft blanket of midnight hues. Shadows dance within the forest as the breeze toys with the full heads of trees to make them sway. Brilliance of the moon above, gives an eerie soft bluish glow, to the rolling banks of fog that drift over the warmth of the ground. The air cool upon flesh, the grounds cover fresh and coated with dew only added to the silence of steps. Clueless the one that sat within the comforts of their own home. Belly fat from over indulgence of a bountiful meal, and the stiff drinks that followed after with the enjoyment of a pipe.

The soft glow of the inner room nearly as silent as the cloak of darkness that caressed the leather encased form of equal coloration. The crackling and popping of wood engulfed by the hunger of the flames tongues wrapping about it, to be that which presently filled the room. Outside, the occasional questioning of a distant owl did echo about and intermixed with the chirping of crickets, and sounds of various frogs. Not even the forest bespoke of the predator lurking in the darkness, as if acceptance of it was make, or the motion was so undetectable, even they gave no notice.

A window in the sitting room was left open, to permit the fresh air of the night to clear the room, while the hearth provided the necessary warmth to stave off the dampness that entered with it. An opportunity that wouldn't go unnoticed, nor passed up, and soon a shadow would befall upon the window sill; though the occupant within noticed not. He was memorized by the fire he gazed upon, lost in thoughts that were his own; another opportunity that wouldn't go unnoticed, nor passed up. Not a sound was made as hand rose with a small tube shaped item within its grasp. Barest whisper of a sound, so much so the breeze is what it would be mistaken as. All was serene within the large, overly populated with furnishings, manor room, until the disturbance of a pesky insect; or so it was thought.

Hand lifted to swat at the bug that bit him on the neck, a brush would dislodge the tiny needle that had embedded within the flesh. So small the implement, that when swatted at not another thought was put into what just transpired. That was until the first sign of what was to come set in. He began to clear his throat, feeling a slight irritation beginning. Enough that he would pour himself another glass of brandy to remedy the situation. But it did not! Instead he would begin to feel not only his throat beginning to swell, but his tongue as well. Again the use of brandy to remedy the situation, which would only help to result into his ultimate fate.

It was but a matter of a few minutes before the man would fall to his knees upon the ground, hands guarding his throat. His gasps for air began to become more audible to the creators ears. This in turn did cause a small smirk of satisfaction to form upon lips as the death scene was watched with a morbid fascination. More labored the breaths as the airway soon became too swollen to permit it to pass. Eyes bulged as facial features became blotchy before taking on a pale blue hue in coloration. His body jerked upon the floor as he fought to breath and live, a battle that would end with his body losing control of all functions.

A moment to wait before slowly slipping through the window, to first view the body and reveal the face of the one that caused his demise. That last moment of life in those eyes of his would be burned into memory. At first the recognition of whom it was that hovered over them, and then the look of fear with the reality of their own demise, then blank as the life drifted from them. A few actions taken to the corpse upon the floor, and then the setting of the scene, which meant the sacrifice of yet another loyal pet. Needle retrieved and back out the window the dark figure slipped, and into the cover of the night that accepted her like the arms of a mother about her child in protection.

By time the fate of the Lord Abram Vivaldi was founded, the woman known as the Baroness of Kiel was asleep in her bed within the manor. How shocked she would act upon learning of the news, that the poor Lord had been bitten by a snake that slithered in through his open window. However, the man had been able to kill the reptile that ended his own life in the end; what a horrible way to die. He would be laid to rest while many mourned his passing, and the Baroness would simply hide that private smile, a glint in icy shards that would be mistaken for a tear. A second name had been marked off the list, and there were others to follow.