Reinhold: Recruting a Killer

Genlamin had devoted nearly two week's worth of time researching all documented warlocks and their patrons of power. Everytime he felt as though he were getting close to some sort of answer or connection, a singular thread he could tug at to unravel the mystery for Reinhold to remove the threat. In the interim another interesting file had been delivered, or interesting in the eyes of Lord Reinhold.

It was unlikely that most of the information was true, but because the Lord demanded it Genlamin had now divided attention to two separate projects. “Researching about fae races that hadn’t been seen in over one hundred years. The mostly likely explanation was the flawed memory of witnesses. Filling in blanks with even the most unlikely visual information even if it doesn’t entirely make sense. For example the large ears in the dark could have been larger feathers on a head dress. As for the murder weapon, again it wasn't totally impossible for a human to replicate provided the right mix of enchanted gear. Nothing like the woman dubbed “The Coffin Killer”. Reinhold seemed to have tempered some of her bad behavior, but she still scared Genlamin. The flatness to her voice and the way she’d seem to look right through him while being fully aware he was there. Like an albino adder.

Yefka stepped from behind Genlamin and sat a tray with a teapot and a cup as well as some finger food on the table in one of the few open spaces. “Lord Reinhold requests an update on ‘the problem’.”

Genlamin cleared his throat and started to pour himself tea. “I have discovered his patron must not make many deals. The fact it has allotted that human so much power means it is not spread thin and isn’t dividing its focus too broadly.”

Yefka nodded, she knew enough about gods and their dulling out of powers to understand what she was being told. What she didn’t understand was why he was saying something they in a general sense already knew. “And…?” she prompted him to continue.

“I haven’t discovered which god yet.” Genlamin said, sensing Yefka about to speak on how Lord Reinhold would not be pleased. “I have made a slight discovery, I haven’t had time to follow the thread yet but I was about to.” he insisted.

“Go on…” Yefka said. Typically demure by nature and fearful of Lord Reinhold and his wrathful tendencies she was able to be more venomous with Genlamin since his inaction and lack of speedy work meant she had to deal with Reinhold’s anger and little progress being made.

“I’ve managed to narrow down where the power likely comes from. It is not in the typical pantheon. God or Demonic. If it is a god its one unworshipped, if it’s a demon its one that has gone rogue.” he said. “I would need to see him cast magic to tell you exactly what gives him the power, but he is not divinely protected, which means he can be killed and won’t come back.”

“He will be happy to hear that.” Yefka said, “And the killing of the duke and dutchess?” she asked, “Is there any validity to the claims of the homolepus?” she asked.

Genlamin let out a breath of air. “Doubtful it's what the reports claim it to be.”

“How so.” Yefka asked, wanting to cover all her bases to be able to answer Reinhold’s questions.

“Well. Like all Fae they’ve not been seen for over a hundred years, and his kind doesn’t live that long, so unless he was frozen in a block of ice and just thawed out he’d be long dead or long gone like the rest of his kind.”

Yefka sighed. “I was hoping to see one for real and not just in story books. But do you or what you’ve found suggest he’s a skilled assassin?”

“Bloody effective. But not subtle.” he said. “Still can’t wrap my head around a few aspects though.”

“Example?” Yefka gestured for him to go on.

“Well…Ones he killed in the streets, and one the roadside were in far better shape than the actual victims. But the surviving Duke swears it was the same man who attacked him and stole away with his niece that killed his brother and his brother’s wife. But…” Genlamin shuddered. “One of the detectives used the word ‘pulp’ to describe the skulls of the victims when asked by Reihold’s men.”

Yefka blinked hard and shuddered as well, and even turned a bit green, seemingly having visualized some version of what she’d imagined that would could describe. “So…you think he didn’t do it?”

“Woah woah.” Genlamin whispered in a snappy tone. “I never said that. I’m only saying the killer kicks might be greatly exaggerated and he’s using some sort of weapon or enchantment to allow him to do such a thing.”

Nodding Yefka took a step back. “I will return after speaking with Lord Reihold for the tray.” she motioned towards it. “Be finished by the time I return.”

–

Yefka walked back toward the throne room, entering and bowing before approaching Lord Reinhold.

“My Lord.” she said, standing at the bottom step of the dais.

“Come Yefka.” he beckoned “What word do you bring from Genlamin.

Yefka grabbed her dress in her hands, lifting it it enough to not trip and bounded up the stairs. “My Lord.” she bowed again and repeated everything Genlamin had told her.

“No matter if he is a serial murder or not.” Reinhold said. “He is a capable killer that I wish to have in my employ. If he proves to be as powerful as I have been told he will be invaluable. If he proves to be worthless we can string him up and present him as a gift to the surviving brother of his ‘victims’ to do with as he pleases.”

“A brilliant idea.” Yefka said, though she wasn’t too pleased with the idea of two killers under that same roof as her. “Is there anything else you would like from me, My Lord.”

Reinhold stared at Yefka for a long moment. Scratching his chin he looked her up and down. Then put his large hand on her head and turn it left then right. “Yefka?” he began. “How does your monastic order feel about flirtation, temptation and sexual encounters?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

Yefka swallowed hard, unsure where this was going. “It is allowed in moderation.” she said nervously.

Reinhold steepled his fingers. “Then I have two jobs for you.” he said. “Firstly send some men to recruit this killer. Tell them that no isn’t an answer if he refuses bring him here and we will make him see the error of his ways. Secondly you will be going under cover. Make that warlock sloppy. Use your…” he motioned over her vaguely. “Womanly wiles to tempt him and remove him from the game if you are able.”

“But…” she began to protest, then the ‘error of his ways’ echoed in her head knowing she didn’t have a choice. “But…you will probably need to send more than a few men. Given we know he’s a danger.” she said, trying to save face… “I’ll get to work right away.” she said hurrying down the stairs.

Once she was gone Reinhold couldn’t help but have a predatory laugh to himself seeing her squirm like that. Fighting the halves of her brain dedicated to her order and her service to him. He wouldn’t kill her for failure in this task, he was sure the warlock would do that if he caught her, should she survive he still wouldn’t harm her. It was a pain to start over and twisting people against their own beliefs and judgements was a game to him. Seeing if people were willing to leave themselves behind was like candy. Not to mention even if she failed to kill Parvil, she was smart enough to listen and repeat what she hears. Information can often be deadly if used to add pressure in just the right places.