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[Silent Poet]

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He was holding a cleaver to Poet's throat.

"Your house is not so safe as you thought. Be glad that I was not paid this time. Next time you will not even see this much of a warning."

*poof*

He was gone and poet reached up to his throat. His head still seemed attached which was good because that meant he could still keep drinking. There was a spot on his throat where the mysterious lad's cleaver had briefly touched his throat that was stinging.

"umn... Cat, me luv... am I bleeding?"

Cat and Scribble the Tavern Bosses had been standing on the other side of the Bar and had witnessed the entire exchange.

"Poet ye old goat, whom did you incur the wrath of this time?" Scribble asked.

"Poet, ya are bleeding. Let me look at it, oki?" said Cat.

"Scribble, that was just my barber. I think he was upset because I missed my appointment earlier. I am sure there is nothing to worry about." Poet was trying to be light about the fact that due to the crowd in the room, he could not rely on his nightingale floors to listen for intruders.

"Poet, ye have a small "x" on your throat."

"Dinna worry yeselves, lass. That lad just needs an ale or three. I will pay him double when I see him on the morrow."

Then Poet mutters to himself...

"If I only knew who that lad was..."
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"When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell." - John Dryden

[Hirel]

---

A man slides from the shadows into his home.

"A success master?" his servant asks as he takes the man's cloak.

"Yes, I hope the old man does not take it personally" the man says as he allows himself a slight smile, a rarity these days. "Though I do not think he will feel safe in the place called the Garden anytime in the near future"

"If I may ask sir, why this man?" the servants asks as he stokes up the fire.

"Well, as you are the only person I have ever trusted with these matters, I will tell you. As we are new to this part of the land, I must find a group of 'associates' so that I can start earning again. It is better to be with a brotherhood than to compete on your own."

At this the servant nods and continue listening...

"To find a brotherhood such as this can be hard as secrecy is our code, so my plan is simple, I will make them want to seek me out. By choosing this Poet as my first target, I chose someone neutral that would cause no stir among the various alliances. And also I found a pleasure in showing him that even his Garden with all his alarms can not keep someone safe from me. Perhaps next I will choose a prominent light figure, and next a prominent dark figure until I am approached."

"But sir", the servant replies. "How will they know how to get in touch with you and why the 'x' on the man's neck? That is not your usual calling card unless I am mistaken."

"I will find a way to let people, who know where to look, get in touch with me. Also, aye, you are right my friend, that is not how I am known, but tis alot easier to leave my calling card on a corpse than a living man, especially one that is as drunk as that one was last night. These marks are merely to get the right people interested, my calling card will be left on the bodies of my future marks. As for now, an 'x' on the neck will suffice."

"Which brings me to my last question sir, why did you leave the old man alive?" asks the servant as he retrieves another mug of water for the man.

"Even after all this time, you still ask this" says the man as he slowly shakes his head. "I kill only for pay and for my own reasons when they are serious enough, as I deem this situation not to be. These people better serve my perpose alive, their stories of the event will only add to my application if you will, to the ones I am looking to meet."

The servant nods and replies, "A sound plan sir, you always know best. I will be heading to bed now unless you need something more."

"No, I am fine, goodnight"

As the servant climbs the stairs, the man returns his gaze to the fireplace and continues to sharpen his knives.

[Murdoc]

---

Murdoc talks with Poet about this whom incident. Unsure of whom it is, the attack seemed to fit no one he knew...
Later that night after everyone leaves the Garden for the night he walks in the shadows quietly over to the board outside the Tavern and posts this Note being suer ot be completely unseen.

"Anyone whom attacks Silent Poet or a Member of his Staff will be considered an enemy of the Blood.
*signed*
Mr. Ouija"
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