There's Something in the Air

Arcus was awed at the great vampire city of Conan. He followed along with the group into Blaze's mansion when they finally arrived, and the mansion was majestic as well. Arcus had a love for mansions, castles and cathedrals, and hoped one day he might live in one of his own, so he felt a sharp sting of sick stable jealousy at the fact that Blaze lived in one. But he ignored it.

***

Knurla swatted at the glaring rat before talking to it, as if he expected it to understand and talk back, "So what are YOU in here for?"
The old, dark elf tried to just push all the hay on the floor over to one corner... but moved it only to discover a rotten and even less pleasant odor in the dank floorboard. He reluctantly scattered the hay back over it.
What am I doing in here? I was once a KING!
Immediately after making that thought, Knurla realized that that was something Heir might've thought. Knurla would have said, "Welcome to the other side of life, brother." Knurla must have forgotten some of his own philosophies and virtues.
Stupid, Knurla, focus on the task! His mind commanded.

Knurla's eyes nearly burst out of their sockets when he heard the rat speak. He whacked himself in the face. Oh gosh, nothing is EVER as it seems.

"Honestly, what I see now is more unbelievable than a talking rat." Knurla grunted under his weight. Whether he accepts the price or not will simply depend on how desperate he was. "I'm listening."

((I should really post these all in one. But I don't like stretching the page.))
Moth walked down the alleyway, her bare feet making no sound, her consciousness stretched out in all directions as far as she could reach. She turned the corner. The palace loomed high above, and the elf could feel a tiny spark of consciousness-not her own-inside. The rider? Latching herself to the side of the building, she climbed.

Speaking literally and metaphorically, Knurla smelled a rat. He decided he would accept his acquaintance, but he wouldn't trust him. "Who exactly are you? My name is Knurla."

Swift wiped the blood off his knife and looked down at the corpse at his feet. A successful assassination, he thought, smiling grimly. He will be pleased. Bending down, he cut off the body's right ring finger, the one with a gaudy ring decorating the base. The elf wrapped it in a handkerchief and, sticking the gruesome bundle in his coat pocket, jumped lightly out the window and onto the streets below.

Swift glanced back as he navigated the alleyways. Someone was following him. He could hear the tap, tap of the man's footsteps. The person he had fallen on, most likely. The elf cursed himself for his negligence. Why hadn't he looked where he was going?
No time for that now. He couldn't go back to the hotel. Moth was there. So instead, the elf zigzagged recklessly down the alleyways, turning down some random streets and doubling back others, trying to lose the man.
---
Moth slid into the room. The Rider was there, sleeping peacefully. The elf took a step toward her.

Swift saw the man jump up beside him out of the corner of his eye, and sped up the pace. The space between them lengthened. Once the elf felt that he had gotten far enough ahead, he flung his knife straight at the man's heart.

"Well, joy," Percy remarked. "Blaze, you sound like some power-hungry madman."

"Mad-woman..." Salah remarked quickly, surprising herself. The vampire tested the bonds. They knew their stuff. Probably taught by Blaze. Damn it. Eldor's mind was closed to hers but Salah knew he would be coming, if there wasn't something stopping him...

"You were a rider Blaze. Remember that we are all allies! And friends! We have a more pressing enemy by the name of Galbatorix. I would never swear loyalty to him, what makes you think I'll give you my oath? ..." The vampire paused for a moment, listening for the wingbeats that deep down she knew were not coming.

"They are not my prey, nor will they ever be," Salah said defiantly to Blaze, glaring hard at her. "And I am not one of you... I am a rider."

--x

Jared saw the form before it saw him. He had heard it climb into the room and he had slipped into the shadows, just in case. He had the element of surprise. Soundlessly, he walked up behind the figure, placing one of his daggers against it's throat.

"Who are you and what do you want? Answer quickly, I'm not a patient man," Jared whispered into the figure's ear.

"Nice to meet you Rhet." Knurla said. "And no need to call me... master. Now... you say you can get me out of here. Why haven't you gotten yourself out, already?"

Swift sighed. He, like his sister, had control over the element fire. These flames couldn't hurt him-badly anyway, the unnatural fire had somewhat burned his hand. But it was nothing that couldn't heal with time. With a muttered word, he dispersed the flames. His ruined knife lay at his feet. "Shame, it was my favorite one too..." Swift murmured, drawing another knife out of his charred sleeve. Jumping down from the wall, he loped off toward his client's house.
It was a red brick building, tall and sturdy and relatively untouched by the destruction the reigned over the rest of the city. Swift knocked once hard, then twice fast and soft. The door opened, the client paid the elven assassin for his business, and he was once again running off, this time towards the inn. He threw open the door. Moth was not there.