"January 3rd, 309 AC To all my friends and family in Regalia and beyond, I am writing this letter, although you will most likely never find it, unless you are looking through my belongings, because I appreciate each and every one of you. When I was born of a criminal psychopath, I never thought I'd end up where I was. I had tons of friends, and was involved in so many wonderful things. Even the conflicts I were stuck in just reminded me of how alive and human I am, and how thankful I am to be breathing and living in this amazing city. In a few hours, I am going to visit an old friend. They will remain anonymous for their sake, because I do truly care for them. I am going to their house and am going to spend time with them. I will then attack them, because I've had the desire to follow in my Mother's footsteps for a long time. I cannot help but want to please her, even if she was the worst guardian I've ever considered having. They will most likely attack in self defense, and kill me. If this is the case, like I said before, I appreciate and love each and every one of you who possible could fall upon this letter of goodbye. I also include my choosing of will in this letter. I give 50% of my savings to Anne de Piedmont. I give 25% of my savings to Camilla dei Moreno. (Or whatever her last name is, it changes a lot.) I give 25% of my savings to Mirabella Wymarc. (Not actually IC regals, just thought I'd add a sad touch to tug on y'alls heartstrings.) I want to thank every Law Enforcement Officer, and Lord Chancellor Bancroft for keeping this fabulous city running civily. Please don't grieve my death too much, I don't want anyone's life to be ruined by my doing." In love and peace, Natasha." The light left her blue eyes. She was at peace now. With her family. Where she never thought she'd be a few days ago. You know, it's always the de Breveux's that accept their death so easily. Must be in their blood.
The Bard looked upon the notice of the women’s death with a sigh, “perhaps if she had spoken of her troubles I might’ve been able to help her. It seems she was more troubled then she appeared may her soul go where it please.” He raises a glass and drinking singing a short song for the fallen’s memory.
The Ithanian woman spotted the notice of her friend's death on her way out for some tea. She stopped in her tracks, then turned around- returning home. She wasn't seen for the remainder of the day. Greer Mac Conall picked up the notice, squinting at it with a shake of her head before speaking to Greer the dog. "Shame, she really was a good fighter. If you die before me, don't tell her I said that." Later that day, she'd be sure to remove Natasha de Breveux from the list of House guards.
Dazed, confused, his heart was still racing. The cleaver that the Playero was holding slipped out of his hand and onto the kitchen floor. He looked down onto his own hands, awash with the blood of his former lover. The events that had conspired beforehand were too unreal for young Eloi to properly understand, at least not without proper thought and reflection. "I have unlocked something inside of me, something I never knew existed," he said, his voice drifting off into the emptiness of the house. However, the pain in his side still burned. Eloi gripped the stab wound in his side with utter agony. Though only having known Natasha for the sum total of three consecutive days, her death and legacy would be forever etched into his mind. After having participated in an act of murder, even in if self-defence, Eloi Playero would forever change. Whether for better or worse - that'd be up for speculation.
Taeron Fa'Salor couldn't believe it when Eloi had come to his house not but minutes after the murder of Miss de Breveuxs. He shook his head- not disappointed in Eloi, but disappointed that the poor girl could allow such a feeling to overtake her. "Why would she want to kill Eloi?"Even though one of his closest friends had committed a crime- Taeron knew he had to help protect Eloi, Simone, and the rest of the Amayas. He wasn't going to turn Eloi in regardless of him currently holding a position as a guard. This was to stay between them, and only them. Though they were only brothers by spirit, their bond was to never be unbroken- and Taeron wasn't going to betray him like that. Not after all the others he had lost. "I don't think bad of yah, Playero. I'm proud of yah. You got back up off the floor an' fought back. That's all that matters."
The half-elf walked up to the notice board, having heard the whispers of passersby regarding the passing, wanting to see it for herself. She pursed her lips, reading over the notice, clutching her basket tightly, muttering to herself, "Well, shit. I wonder who got ya, lass." She'd walk off then, and if a single tart appeared on a doorstep in the Ithanian district, well, it wouldn't be touched.
