Somebody is plotting something (??? POV)

Night fell over the city of the gods as a man quietly walked the streets of Kolderia, enjoying the street performers and the art scattered throughout the city. He was a rather nondescript person, having short brown hair, a medium build, and no discernable scars or iconographies on him. It was as though somebody distilled the word generic and placed it into a human. Making his way to a puppet show of the hero of bonds slaying a monster, he went through his coin pouch and threw a copper coin into the cup, watching the supposed "slayer of the demon king" fell yet another monster in puppet form. Sitting back to watch the show, the street performer finished up the play before cleaning up his stand and grabbing his puppets. As he left, he dropped one of his puppets on the ground just in front of the nondescript man.

"Ah, you dropped this." He said, placing his hand within the puppet and withdrawing the hidden scrap of paper hidden within it as he handed the puppet back to the street performer.

"My thanks, sir." The street performer said, the pair exchanging a smile as the man continued walking through the streets. Stopping at a food cart selling meat skewers, he looked at the seller and handed him 3 coppers. Upon receiving the coin, the seller nodded and handed him a skewer. In the moment they skewer exchanged hands, the salesman covertly snuck a neatly folded piece of paper into his customer's hand. The pair left without even exchanging a word, the man idly eating his meat skewer while keeping the folded slips of paper in his pocket out of sight. He soon left the heart of the city for one of the more remote inns situated at the perimeter of the city, its location limiting its popularity with tourists watching the heroes summit.

Entering a sleepy inn with numerous holes in its walls, he muttered a quick hello to the owner before entering his room, continuing to nibble on his meat skewer as he walked. Opening the wooden door to his room, he found himself in a simple guest room with a basic bed made of animal skins and a wooden desk with a lit candle burning atop it. As he entered, the shadows in the room began shimmering and twitching, as though they were a living organism. Soon, they stretched outwards, coalescing into an 8 foot tall blob of darkness mere inches from his face as he shut the door behind him. Rather than looking like a slime line one would expect of such an entity, the thing before him appeared to be closer to smoke or a haze, its body constantly shifting and stirring as numerous glowing eyes formed on its surface, peering down on him with interest.

Though many would be intimidated by such an eldritch being awaiting them, the man was completely unfazed, far too experienced with illusion magic to be afraid of such childish deceptions. As far as bosses went, his employer was far from the worst even with the ridiculous illusions. It paid him well and it hadn't made any plans to renege on its end of the contract. He was unsure just what it was, but he knew it was a monster of some sort. Not that it mattered to him, of course. Thanks to their civil war, over 80% of his contracts were for the demon kings out east in the past few years. Having another monster as an employer was just another day for him at this point.

"Welcome back Pelrin. How was the mission?" The creature asked, amused as it coiled around him like a snake. Despite its alien form, it had the voice of a young woman, the person behind the illusion before him lacking a wind mage to alter her voice. Hopping into his bed, the man continued eating from his skewer, taking care to not let any of the juices drip onto his bed as he removed the two scraps of paper he had received earlier, unfolding them to display a series of strange symbols written within. Decrypting their contents within his head, the man began relaying the contents of both letters to his employer.

"Today, the arch imago went into the guild with her apprentice, they mixed potions, went for lunch, back to the guild, went to dinner at the same restaurant, then left for the estate. She ate a salad and a bowl of soup for lunch, then ate bread and roasted duck with gravy for dinner." The man answered, picking his teeth with his now emptied skewer, relaying the intel acquired from his men. He knew that this was what she was doing even without the reports considering this was the arch-imago, but he was a cautious man. She was notorious for her fixation on maintaining a routine regardless of her location and frequenting the same restaurants no matter where she went. She was an assassin's wet dream so to speak, being an incredibly predictable target with limited ability to detect hostility. Had it not been for a particularly competent party member of hers kindly deterring **** attempts and the political fallout that would occur from her **** in the past, she'd have died a thousand times over by now.

"Perfect." His boss purred with a sultry voice, shifting away from him as Pelrin continued to pick his teeth with his skewer. He could hear the soft shuffle of cloth next to him as a soft draft blew in from the many holes in his inn's walls.

"If you say so." Pelrin answered dismissively, still unsure about his boss' plan. His contracted duties were to give his opinions on the plan, gather intel on his employer's targets, and stall Varrick for at least 20 minutes. He was offered five times his contract offer to kill him, but he refused for the obvious reason that such a task was impossible. Heroes and their companions were powerful existences, but the hero of the hearth and his former companions were beyond the realm of rationality. Varrick was the second weakest of that band of nightmares, but he was still one of the strongest paladins in the world. In this city where holy professions were empowered, he'd probably be capable of fending off even Mathias for a few minutes. For Pelrim, he could last 30 minutes before being **** to flee against such an overwhelming opponent.

"To make sure this goes off perfectly. We can't leave anything to chance." His boss answered, shifting its body into a knife as it spoke. "Any updates on the hero of the hunt?" She asked as a pair of crimson eyes appeared on the floating blade, peering down at him with interest.

"She's still skipping the events that bore her and shopping at the nearby weapons store for knives." He answered dismissively, the hero of the hunt equally dull in her actions. Despite having only two hands, the hero was either buying, playing with, or sharpening knives. In terms of restaurants, she was completely random and had no set pattern on where she ate or slept. The fact that she was actively trying to avoid Varrick meant that she was always running around the city or hiding. Her love of knives was the only thing that they could reliably predict about her.

"Good. The plan's still in motion." His boss said, overjoyed at his report as Pelrin took both of the paper reports and popped them into his mouth, thoroughly chewing on the paper scraps before swallowing them.

"What if she decides she has enough knives on that day?" Pelrin asked, more out of self interest than in his boss' interests. If the plan didn't occur and he wasn't required to slow down Varrick, the contract stipulated he be paid only 40% of the stipulated amount in the contract.

"We've orchestrated a large shipment of enchanted knives to be sent to the local smiths on that tomorrow. She'll be there." His boss reassured as Pelrin sat back in his bed, unconvinced by his superior. "Something wrong?" His boss asked as he held his skewer up, almost studying it and hoping there was more meat and it was merely obscured by illusion magic.

"Both our targets probably noticed the other spies you hired, and might be on guard." He said dismissively. He wanted to say this was a purely logical statement, but he knew he was angry at his client for hiring both him and the Black Fangs to complete her plan. His men were the best mercenaries in the world in all fields. The Black Fangs were specialists in full scale warfare and widespread destruction, not covert operations. To work with them on a job that required a delicate touch was like training a monkey to play the harp. At the end of the day, the only thing you'll be getting is a stupid monkey angrily flinging shit everywhere.

"This again?" His boss asked, her shape reverting to the black mass filled with eyes at his remark. Judging by the coldness in her voice, she was not amused by his statement. "My men are the best light mages in the world. Nobody can see them, not even a hero." She declared, her tone icy as Pelrin thought to her previous offer of turning his own men invisible to gather intel. Of course, he rejected such tricks, instead deploying his men throughout the city as street performers, food salesmen, and tourists to hide in plain sight. The fact that his men weren't discovered while the Black Fangs were was proof his plan was more effective.

"That mutt can smell your scent on them while the arch-imago's apprentice can see through your illusions." Pelrin explained, thinking back at the reports from his men. There was no doubt the hero of the hunt and the arch-imago's apprentice knew something was wrong due to the incompetence of their stalkers. It was a miracle his employer wasn't beheaded by the Kolderia guard by now.

The hero of the hunt had a keen sense of smell, and his employer stank of a monster. For her, using light mages to cast invisibility was pointless unless you had wind mages specialized in instinctive magic to circulate the air around themselves to hide his employer's scent. As for the arch-imago's apprentice, Pelrin had no clue how she was detecting the invisible stalkers. It wasn't smell or sight since some of those spies were stationed downwind of her, while the invisibility spells cast upon them were flawless. She just seemed to sense them out of instinct more than anything else, her time in the mountains likely giving her some sort of heightened perception against predators.

Regardless of how, the arch-imago's apprentice had detected every spy sent to follow her and had alerted her master of each one, forcing them to retreat each time. The only reason this plan hadn't completely failed was because the hero of the hunt was too arrogant to think anyone could kill her while the arch-imago was too air headed to realize how much danger she was in, dismissing her assassins as mere muggers each time despite her apprentice's warnings. Any other target with the slightest amount of self preservation would have called the guards or changed their routines in response to discovering spies in their midst. All in all, the secondary objective his boss had planned was barely hanging on by a thread.

"Do you truly think I'd believe that a novice hero and some random girl would see through an illusion that could deceive the gods themselves?" His boss asked, towering over him imposingly as dozens of razor sharp shadow blades were pointed at his throat. It seemed she didn't like the thought of having someone question her power. Considering how easily she was manipulating the light to create such intricate illusions, Pelrin couldn't blame her for her arrogance. Of all the elements, illusion magic was the most intricate, requiring constant adjustments and a firm understanding of light and altering its wavelengths to create an image. By his estimate, his employer was several leagues stronger than most of the demon kings out east.

"It doesn't matter what you believe. What matters is the truth." Pelrin reiterated, unafraid of her threats despite her strength. He was hired to give his honest opinion, and he was damn well going to give it. "Our primary plan is tricky enough. Trying to kill a hero AND two companions on top of that is stretching it." He advised as the shadow blades slowly inched towards him.

"Nobody can see through my illusions. My plan is flawless." His boss said through grit teeth, her voice taking on a tinge of hostility as Pelrin shrugged. He gave his honest opinion of the plans, its shortcomings, and how to rectify it. If she didn't heed his advice, well, the success of the plan wasn't a requirement to get full payment for his contract.

"I'm just fulfilling the terms of our contract. The base plan is solid. The secondary objective is just you being greedy." Pelrin said one last time as the shadow blades retracted, his voice not one of anger, but cold rationality. This plan was afloat not because of its brilliance, but because both targets were too eccentric to react like normal, rational people. Based on the routes his employer would take to instigate the incident and avoid the Kolderia guard, she would have to run past the arch-imago's apprentice and be in close proximity to the hero of the hunt. If either of them saw through her charade, she was in for a new world of shit.

"Don't worry about my plan, mercenary. Just focus on your part of the mission." His boss snarled coldly, still unfazed by his warnings.

"Of course, of course." Pelrin said dismissively as he watched his boss' apparition fade into the shadows. As she disappeared, he laid back in his bed and closed his eyes as the candle illuminating his room was abruptly extinguished. He knew his boss was still in the room and would leave the second he fell asleep, but he didn't care too much. Tomorrow was a big day, and he needed to be at his best if he wanted to slow Varrick down.