To keep from boring everyone with "Banshee's Daughter", I thought I'd post a snippet from the fantasy muder mystery that's currently on a back burner. It might get brought out later, but for now, it's simmering in the back.

Anwyhos, the backstory is thus: Shyndra is an assassin from Fellhaven, Deltheya (Xantos's world aka Baradwys.) She learned at Xantos's guild and is younger than Xandra. She's just completed an assassination contract and was enjoying herself with Alyn (a good friend of Xandra, tolerated by Xantos, and whom she has a smidge of a crush on) until her cousins show up. Though only two are blood-related, all four of the "Brethren" are considered family to her. The Brethren have just informed her that her beloved uncle was murdered.

Here's what happens next:



The walk to her room seemed to take far too long. She felt giddy, but a black sadness kept sweeping over any excitement she felt about taking Alyn to her bed.


When she reached her door, and was unlatching it, Shyndra did not know why she had asked Alyn to her room. It would be the height of hypocrisy to try and dismiss him, now.

Chewing her lower lip, a fault her mother had constantly scolded her for; she drew a deep breath and stepped inside, closing the door after Alyn. Gods, the man was handsome and charming. She wanted to forget the misery that kept trying to claim her yet she knew this could only be a short term affair.

Unclasping her outer robes, her lips curved into a seductive smile. Even a night of pleasure was better than days of unhappiness. More than anything, though, she wanted Alyn for at least one night. Tossing the robe to the side, she removed the leather armor she wore beneath, leaving only her simple white gown.

Crossing to Alyn, she pressed up against him, his arms enveloping her. Despite his strength, he was so very gentle. A surprising, yet very pleasing discovery. Nuzzling his neck, she felt tears welling up in her eyes and her lips trembled.

Gods, she was not going to cry! She wasn't... so, why were there tears leaking from her eyes? And... why was her chest tightening to the point where she thought she couldn't breathe?

Swallowing, Shyndra blinked back her tears and forced air into her lungs, willing her grief to leave her. She was not going to cry, not when she wanted some pleasure in her otherwise dismal life.

Brushing a kiss along Alyn's neck, she tightened her arms around him. She was stronger than her grief. She had to be. There were no true paladins in polished armor who would rescue her from the life she had made for herself. So, gods be damned, she was not going to cry and she was going to enjoy her night with Alyn.

That is, if she could stop her eyes from filling with water before trickling down her cheeks.

Alyn lifted her head up, and immediately she could tell, even with her vision blurring, that he knew she was trying not to cry. He immediately bent and kissed the water from her eyes.

"Alyn," she whispered, her voice cracking even with the single word. She choked back a sob, even as her eyes burned. The tears broke free and she melted against him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she wept. It wasn't what she had planned, or wanted, but it seemed her feelings were going to win this battle.

He shushed her and held her against him. The sobs were becoming worse, but she did not seem able to cease them. Alyn did not even attempt to pull away. He just continued to hold her tightly against him.

Shyndra leaned into his warmth, letting him comfort her. A small smile kept trying to form on her trembling lips. Closing her eyes, she snuggled closer, taking solace in the fact he was everything the rumors proclaimed, and more. Her lips twitched again and she pressed a trembling kiss to his shoulder. His lips pressed against the crown of her head and a smile finally broke through her grief.

I've decided to go with the introduction of the main storyline. And yeah, this one is going to end up being a true muder-mystery. (the next time I EVER decide to do a murder mystery, I hope someone will just kill me...) anywhos.... What's come before: Shyndra has arrived in Valpoor to kill off the High Priest of a temple dedicated to light and knowledge. A good temple in an evil city. After completing her contract (she's an assassin, obviously), she bumps into Alyn, a renowned/infamous mercenary known to be a ladies' man. They go to a tavern for a drink (Alyn, btw, knows who Shyndra is due to his being the childhood friend of the current Guildmistress). There, Shyndra's two cousins and their childhood friends drop in to annoy her. All four men are human and treat Shyndra as though she's a little sister. That's the general gist of what's come before. So here's the teaser: Shyndra laughed at Arden, enjoying the familiar feeling of being with her family. Or, more truthfully, the only family she ever loved. Turning to Crau, who was still behind her, she asked, "What injustice brought you four here? I know I won't get anything from those three. They're always forgetting I can take care of myself." "We... did not presume you wanted to discuss it here," Arden said, with obvious reluctance. He glanced briefly at Alyn. "It is something of a... family matter, after all." Shyndra's brows furrowed as she turned around to her cousin. "What? Alyn knows about the bounty on my head. Gods, I think everyone at the Guild knows about it by now." She paused, tilting her head to the side. "Have you four been following me? Is that why you're here?" "The bounty?" Crau leaned forward. "We aren't here for that, although we'd happily volunteer to execute your former betrothed and his mother. No, we are here about your uncle's murder. Isn't that why you are in Valpoor?" "I was here to complete a contract," Shyndra replied, shaking her head before correcting the Brethren, "It was my mother who placed the bounty on my head. It was in return for leaving Rafis before the priest, taking my dowry, and returning to Fellhaven and my guild." "Oh, very well done!" Aldryn said, coming more out of his stupor. "That must have been quite a haul." Turning, her hand sweeping up as though she were going to slap him or pat his cheek, a dagger instead made itself known beneath his chin. She hoped her bluff would not be called as she demanded, "Tell me which uncle before I lose my temper." "Your uncle Clytus. This is unknown to you?" Crau had lowered his voice further, perhaps to prevent others from hearing their conversation, or to try and calm her. If it were the later, he had failed. The hand holding the dagger dropped as she turned around, facing Crau completely. "Uncle Clytus? But... but... he was a priest for Dridean," she whispered. She drew a deep breath, returning her dagger to its sheath. "Tell me how and tell me what you have planned." "We will be infiltrating the temple here in Valpoor, just after the morning meal." Arden began. "He was slain two weeks ago just outside his Rectory. You are truly unaware of these details? You say you have been to the temple? You were not there to take his killer, or seek answers?" Shyndra sighed and slumped back in her chair. "All four of you know my profession. I was there for the High Priest. I didn't know anything about Uncle Clytus. You four are the only family I've spoken to since leaving Bakaar." "It seems the Fates have brought you all to this place," observed Alyn. "Shyndra? You will, of course, want to join your, ah, 'family' in pursuit of the parties responsible for your uncle's death?" "Yes, yes I will. I know the temple and I remember everything my uncle ever told me about Dridean and their way of life," Shyndra replied wryly. She slid her hand across to Alyn, grabbing his hand and squeezing lightly. Ignoring the other four men around them, she asked softly, "Stay with me tonight?" He gripped her hand and nodded. Sitting back, still holding her hand, he glanced at the men around them. "So... what drink do you favor? Do you have a name for your merry band?" "We all take rum for business like this," Arden replied. "We are just the Brethren, nothing more glorious than that." "We tend to keep things simple," Crau amended. "A more memorable title raises our visibility. We depend on being mostly forgettable when we leave an area." "The better in case your true natures are borne out." Alyn nodded again. "It's quite good; your little ruse." Shyndra shoved Aldryn lightly. She refused to give in to her grief, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to use it to her benefit. "Switch seats with me, cousin. I want to sit next to Alyn." Aldryn shook his head, and Shyndra thought she might have an argument coming. Aldryn stood up, however, making Shyndra realize that he was still trying to clear his head since regaining consciousness. He switched seats with her, and aside from a scowl from Borin, there were no objections. Any objections?" Shyndra asked, raising her brow at the Brethren. She deliberately left the question open to interpretation; curious as to if they would object to her relationship with Alyn. "I'm waiting to see if the revered Alyn Kysis is buying rum for the table." Crau commented. "He is," rejoined Alyn. "No objections," replied Arden, Crau, and Aldryn in unison. Borin just shrugged and shook his head, once. Chuckling, Shyndra leaned against Alyn, knowing it would annoy Borin that much more. She knew that they would raise their objections and complaints the next day, if they had any. Not that it mattered to her. Especially since each of them was far worse than her.