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Fantasy AP: Awakening

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Kyero meandered through the dark and foreboding hallways of the dungeon's upper level until they reached a section where the ground opened up between paths to see the cells below. And this is where Kyero knew they had to be extra careful. If finding Josephine was truly this simple, then there had to be a reason. Someone was letting them in. And if they were willing to let them in, that could only mean that they had been informed ahead of time to keep an eye out for rescue parties.

A ladder became their path down, finally at the level of the cells. Each one was a contained unit. A stone floor, ceiling, and walls on three sides. The only opening was the bars which were a measly four inches apart. Nowhere near enough for any human being to slip through, no matter how emaciated they may have become.

Cell by cell, Kyero let Lonan check the inhabitants. Numerous corpses, skeletons, and piles of ash where skeletons used to be before they were burned to particles were about all that greeted them. One corpse in particular looked remarkably like Josephine, but the hair was not the right shade of strong, semi-dirty blonde that she boasted.

"Keep looking... I'm going to check something." He whispered.

And with that, Kyero left Lonan to his search of the dozens upon dozens of cells contained in this massive underground chamber.
 
Lonán walked with Kyero silently as they managed to make their way through the hallways and finally they arrived at the cells. Lonán stopped short as he was alarmed by the hideous surprise that awaited him. He assumed there would be prisoners but what he discovered was near monstrous. In Saharan at least they treated prisoners well unless they performed an offense against the Kingdom itself. But Moraello slowly in Lonán’s mind became a monstrous abomination to Honor.

Lonán Slowly But surely began looking through each cell, hoping to find Josephine. The more corpses and skeletons he found however, the more his anxiety built. As did his rage. When he came upon the one that almost looked like Josephine, his heart almost sank as his mind flashed back to a different time, a different place in his life. “Not again! Please Heresta, don’t let me suffer another crack in my heart from Failing those I care about again!“ He cried out in his head. Lonán nodded at Kyero’s instruction as he once more gripped his sword and began to keep looking. He had to be ready for anything, even an ambush.

His Berserker instincts would’ve told him to let anger run free. However, his mind still clung onto the floodgate that held said anger. He’d only let it out only after it he found Josephine or the Enemy found him first.
 
Kyero, silent as a shadow, slipped up to the level above to follow Lonan. Crouching down like a cat with his belly near the ground, he kept his eyes peeled for any and all signs of movement not belonging to Lonan himself. The "master" the old woman spoke of wouldn't let them take Josephine from here so easily. Not if a man like Niils had anything to say about it.

And then, the briefest glint of something ahead of Lonan caught his eye.

Kyero stopped and threw a small throwing dart into the ground in front of Lonan to stop his advance. From his angle, Lonan couldn't see. But there were tiny holes in the gaps in cobblestone which were reflecting tiny metal objects. And nearby, on the walls, was a lever. Kyero crawled along the walkways until he reached the side closest to the level, climbed down, and pulled it. From beneath the ground flew dozens upon dozens of thin metal barbs which embedded themselves in the ceiling. A few fell back down, sending out clinging and clanging reverberations through the dungeon.

When the sounds ceased, Kyero listened intently.

........................ Tip... Tap... Tip... Tap...

It was almost completely inaudible. But with both he and Lonan holding their breaths there was nothing to stand in the way of the tiny pitter patter of what had to be feet.

Kyero gave Lonan a gesture to keep quiet, and slipped into the shadows with his black aura quietly rising around him. Seconds passed like hours before Kyero suddenly emerged from the darkness right beside Lonan and threw out his hand with dagger extended. Behind Lonan had appeared a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Voluptuous figure. Golden-brown hair. Deep blue eyes. And a bearing which practically screamed royalty... But it wasn't the woman they were here to find, despite the physical similarities.

Keeping his blade to her throat, Kyero gently pushed it against her flesh to slice the first layer of skin as she kept her chin high and a smile on her face.

"... You're as impressive as they say, Demon."

Her voice was in direct contrast to her physical appearance. Deep, gravely, and hoarse as if she'd lost her voice box and replaced it with a grinding heap of rocks, her words fell from her mouth gracelessly like boulders.
 
Lonán Slowly kept looking but when Kyero stopped him he began to take a look Around as if asking why did he make him stop. But obviously the trap was not laid bare to him as there was a new worry.

They were not alone, this much they knew. After moments of tension Kyero suddenly had an enemy that looked much like....Josephine?!

Lonán’s eyes widened before his mind began to rationalize. This...thing didn’t sound like Josephine. But she wore Josephine’s form. “What are you? And where is Josephine?!” Lonán said, near shouting his question. His contained anger was slowly bubbling to the surface, barely contained. If anything else happened at this moment or this person, thing, whatever told them something he didn’t like...

Well, Lonán was prepared to finally let loose his anger on any and all foes. He gave an almost animalistic growl at the thought of it.
 
Kyero's gaze slid to Lonan, taking note of his anger and what he might have to do if Lonan lost complete control. But he kept his focus firmly planted on the woman.

"This old fort is my home, and you are both trespassing."

The dagger in his hand twisted, slicing another layer of flesh. But she didn't flinch.

"Your skill is impressive, but your intimidation tactics could use work." She croaked.

"You know why we're here, don't you?"

"Of course. There's no such thing as an uninvited guest, here."

"We noticed."

"Good. Then you must know that once you are a guest, you don't leave?"

The dagger shifted again, slicing the 3rd layer of skin.

"First time for everything."

"Perhaps I wasn't clear. Nobody leaves here. At least... Not without my permission." She said, a twisted smile appearing on her lips.
 
Lonán was slowly beginning to lose patience for this creature. However, at the creature’s words he growled even more. Kyero’s interrogation was almost getting nowhere. However, it seemed this thing was trying to test them somehow. Lonán took a deep breath.

“Then May we have Permission to take the guest that we are looking for out of this place? She has been brought here for unjust reasons and the one responsible for it is as crooked as a dishonorable slime from the Rival Clan of My own Clan.” Lonán explained. “I Sit at the edge of my own rage, and you will find that if pushed, then By Heresta My anger will be a worse thing to cross then the Demon holding you at knifepoint.” He knew he was gambling, but this was the last attempt at reason he had left. Any further pushing and Lonán will lose his ability to hold back his rising anger.

All he had to do was hope the Gamble paid off.
 
The woman's head shifted slowly towards Lonan, her sly grin never wavering.

"You consider a mere emotion more dangerous than he who was created of the Devil's spawn? Jokes are for children, my dear." She croaked, her head sliding back towards Kyero.

"Do you seek justice as well, Demon?"

"If I cared about that, I'd wear a saint's cap."

Another shift, another layer of flesh cut through.

"Dezantro. Where is she?"

"The princess? She's... Safe." She clucked with a cackle ugly enough to make Kyero want to rip his ears off.

Kyero's fist tightened on the dagger, and he sliced the fifth layer of flesh.

"There's only two layers left, old crone. And I'm rapidly losing my patience."

Sixth layer, cut through. The skin was bright red now. Blood just beneath the surface preparing to flow free upon the next cut.

"Where?"

The woman continued to cackle as her eyes grew wider... She had no intention of talking. Instead, at her sides, her fingers snapped loudly sending a tiny reverberation through the cavernous room. Kyero kept his focus on the woman as his head slowly turned to the side so he could listen.

... Slowly, the ground began to shiver. And through the shivering Kyero could sense the approach of dozens of people. Was this where she kept her soldiers and protectors? Down below the earth so as not to draw attention and ready at the literal snap of a finger... Very well trained indeed. She was gambling almost as much as Lonan now. If not more.

Kyero had no choice. He had to remove the dagger from her throat as she slowly backed away from them whilst the sound of her rapidly approaching entourage shook the cell bars.

"I'll let you lose it for now, but if you can't refocus yourself when we're through I'll kill you myself! Got that?!" He shouted, drawing both of his Orichalcum daggers.
 
Lonán could hear them coming. So Niils did ensure this was a trap after all. Lonán drew his sword as he got into a ready stance. “Kyero, if there’s enough of them to satiate my anger, then I’ll manage to burn it out of me.” He said with a smirk as they began to come into the room. The Saharan took a deep breath through his nose. He took in all the anxiety and fears that built up inside him. The fear of not finding Josephine, fear of the unknown future that lay before him, and finally, the fear of failure, all went into this one inhale.

He then roared out a battle cry so fierce it was as if it wasn’t a man’s yell, but a Lion’s roar. With that yell, Lonán let his anger go and charged out towards the guards and began fighting. The first two men fell quickly. One was decapitated whilst the other was stabbed. Lonán roared again. The next guard met a more vicious end by Lonán’s blade gliding across his throat as Lonán hacked a fourth man’s head off as well.

Another got struck with Lonán’s Crossbow Bolt in his eye. “Heresta!” He shouted as he Finally began to truly tap into his rage.
 
Kyero winced as he reeled back from the first assault. They came in greater numbers and with more force than he expected.

These were no common soldiers.

Most were the same height as Lonan and Kyero, averaging between 5' 11" and 6' 2" respectively. All were very well trained and sported near air-tight battle armor covering the majority of their bodies. Particularly vulnerable areas such as the groin, neck, and lower back. Durable as his daggers were, the Orichalcum could do nothing if it couldn't find a seam or joint to slip through.

As the first two came forward, blades extended, Kyero blocked as best he could, but was pushed backwards into the cell behind him. The bolts in his back which hit the bars dug in slightly further, and though the pain was negligible the damage they had done was not insubstantial. Kyero was forced to rely on his footwork more than his strength and dexterity as he slipped to the side and found openings in the armor behind the knees and the sides just above the hips. Slipping a dagger into each of the men's sides, cleaving the kidneys and opening up the bottoms of their lungs by aiming the blades slightly skyward, Kyero pulled the blades free and shoved them aside as two more came his way.

Not wanting a repeat what just happened to his back, Kyero slipped to the side, near another cell, forcing them around a corner. This allowed him to funnel them his way one at a time while the others fought to get around each other. As the first one reached him, Kyero sheathed the dagger in his left hand quickly and used his open hand to catch the man's wrist. Slicing upwards with the flat of the blade sliding along his armor, the blade pierced the bottom of the man's chin. The blade pierced through muscle and through his tongue, into his mouth, through the roof of his mouth, and embedded itself into the skull. Pushing for all his worth, Kyero felt it pierce through completely as the man's head lurched backwards with Kyero pulling it free.

He was still alive... But wouldn't be for long.

Another came towards Kyero as the blade was pulled free and managed to slip his blade forward to catch Kyero's forearm across the top. This caused his hand to flinch and he nearly dropped his blade. But, keeping his grip strong, Kyero passed the incoming sword off to the side, barely, and jammed the butt of the handle into the man's visor to dent it inwards and not only obscure his vision, but try to nail one of the eyes as well. He shook his head, but didn't shriek out which told Kyero his attempt to gouge an eye with the dented metal failed. Still, the distraction was more than enough. He planted the heel of his boot into the man's groin. Even with a flap of metal hanging over it, a groin shot was a groin shot. The man went down in a heap, clutching his now deceased family jewels as the next one came around the corner.

As Kyero reeled back to keep his distance and give himself time to react, he couldn't help but feel the muscles in his back starting to give out which made keeping his arms up a little harder.

Note to self. Next time let Lonan fend for himself instead of sacrificing my body and making fighting this difficult! He thought angrily.
 
A punch sent Lonán back several steps from his next opponent. How the devil did he have luck with the first few and not this next bunch? His rage induced mind had to try and focus on what he observed of these guards. Form fitting armor plating. If he just found where to hit them, then he’d-

Another guard sliced at Lonán’s side as he tried to strategize and the force from the blow, despite being blocked by The Saharan sent Lonán stumbling back several feet back as the guard pressed his advantage, and struck at Lonán with a pommel strike, hitting his bad shoulder right at the wound he sustained in Veilbrand. Lonán gritted his teeth before he swung horizontally, striking the man in the side before yanking the blade out the way it came. He moved on to the next guard.

This one seemed more experience then the last as he got into a blade lock with the Saharan, who struggled with keeping his rage focused on them and not Kyero as well as try to think rationally. Pushing the guard back Lonán feigned a charge as the man tried to lunge at him, Lonán immediately jumped to the side and maneuvered his blade to swing low at the back of the man’s right kneecap, cutting into it before it caught on bone. Lonán grunted before pulling two times, hearing an audible crack as he pulled his sword free, before finishing the now screaming kneeling man off with a stab into the lower back.

Lonán looked at the state of his bloodied blade. A part of the edge was chipped. Good steel and make as it was, this fight was obviously testing it’s limits. It served him well for most of his adult life. If it was broken, it meant He’d have to use what was left to the best of his abilities until he could repair it or replace the blade. The hilt and handle would always be used to house a new one.

Two more charged at Lonán who began fighting with more fury then before. A blade from one on his right cut his leg. He roared from the pain but he held his ground as he struck the offender with the pommel of his blade to his face, causing the man to move back from the force of the stunning blow.

Lonán then focused on the man on his left as He traded sword swings with him. The guard extended his blade to lunge, Lonán Parried the blow before stabbing into the visor, piercing the guard’s head. Lonán pulled the blade out with a forceful kick of the body, possibly chipping the blade again.

Now his Attention turned to the other man, who’s visor was dented from the pommel strike.

From the sound of his Moaning he obviously struck the eye. Aiming his crossbow, which he loaded after using it during the fight, Lonán shot the man in the throat as more of a mercy killing from the pain in his eye. Lonán panted From the fighting so far, as well as the dull pain of the shoulder wound that acted up from the pommel striking him. He hoped he didn’t have to get that re-stitched.

“How many more are willing to die before they give it up?” He thought. He looked towards another guard who was preparing to fight him. Lonán got into his ready stance once more. “How many of you want to fight me?” He wondered Aloud. “My blade’s getting a little thirsty.”
 
Kyero dashed around the corner with three enemies trailing. His back was getting weaker with each passing moment, and if he couldn't find a way to fight back effectively he wasn't going to last long.

... Still... There was one option available if need be.

No... Last effort only. He thought.

Kyero quickly, albeit with great difficulty, managed to clamber up to the level above using some old crates near the cell at the end of the room. Likely crates which housed food for the guards. Once up, he kicked the top crate off and onto the first guard trailing which knocked him to the floor, but didn't otherwise cause much damage. The others climbed up after him, but now that he was a full level above them he had all the time and advantage of position in the world. He knelt down away from the ledge and caught his breath as he took a brief moment to feel out what was going on in his back.

Eight bolts... Upper right shoulder has two, three spread out across the ribcage. Left side has two along the ribs and one in the lower back.

He opened his eyes as the first one managed to climb up to meet him, and in seconds, following a brief scuffle, he was thrown off the ledge to the level below landing solidly on his back. And with the clips and clasps on the back of the armor running close tot he spine, he'd certainly break several ribs and be out of action for a bit. The next one to climb up was the unlucky recipient of a blade through the visor. Having seen them up close and, thanks to the slender nature of the orichalcum blades, he managed to thread the needle into the visor and through the right eye socket into the skull. The man lurched back in pain, and, unfortunately, pulled Kyero with him as the dagger was firmly lodged into the helmet and skull.

Landing on top of the man, Kyero grunted as he struggled to pull the blade free. But as he focused on that, he failed to notice that the one he knocked off first was already on his feet and preparing his blade. Catching the glint of the blade on the stone walls around him, Kyero lurched sideways, but not in time to avoid a partial stab through his left side. The blade cut deep into his side, slicing through flesh and muscle and just barely missing his intestines as he lunged further to the side and away from the blade as it sailed by.

The one good thing about that lunge of his... It gave Kyero the time he needed to yank the blade free from the helmet and take his stance as the sword came sailing back around towards his midsection. Arching his back away from the blade, it sliced forward cutting his shirt, but missing his flesh. Kyero slammed his own blade straight down, and with all the force he could muster, managed to pierce the thinner metal sheet covering the man's left arm which sliced through the muscle and tendons along the underside of his arm. With those severed, his hand could no longer close properly and it forced him to drop his blade. With that done, Kyero jumped on him and slammed the blade through the leather covering over his throat which caused a spray of blood beneath the brown material to spew to either side.

Kyero stood up slowly against the fatigue and weakness in his back. With labored breathing, Kyero looked around and saw that no more enemies were headed his way. Were the rest still back with Lonan?

Closing his eyes and listening carefully, Kyero was able to make out that there were still about seven or eight of them left.

I hope you can handle the rest Lonan... I'm at my limit now... He thought.

And, as Kyero turned his head to his right after hearing what sounded like a cough...
 
Lonán kneed the opponent on front of him in the groin before he slapped his blade away, before grabbing him and getting behind him as two more charged, blades extending, as The Saharan pushed that man right into them, one of the blades stabbing into that one as planned, thinning the number to seven and stalling them long enough for Lonán to load his crossbow once more. He was then attacked by the man who’s blade wasn’t stuck in his own comrade.

Lonán and this guard clashed swords for several blows before Lonán struck the man at the neck with his pommel, forcing the man to back away from the force of the blow before receiving a fatal stab to the neck from The Saharan’s blade before he assessed the situation. Two down, six more men left. Lonán prayed to Heresta his aim was true as another charged at him. Aiming his loaded Crossbow, he shot the man at the knee, causing him to scream in pain.

Lonán seized the opportunity and charged out, kneeing the guard in the helmeted face to knock him down before using his sword to stab into his neck. The Guard who’s blade was stuck in his comrade tackled him before Lonán had a chance to remove his blade from the other guard engaging in an almost brawl of unarmed combat. Lonán struggled as the man gave a solid punch to his good shoulder, and another clocking him across his face, the armor cutting across his cheek.

Before the next punch came Lonán grabbed the man’s arm and drew his skinning knife and swung at the man’s neck. The resulting spray of blood to drench his face before pushing the man off him before he expired. The Saharan got up and picked up one of the swords owned by one of the deceased guards. No time to retrieve his sword when four more remained.

The four decided to encircle him and try to strike him down, each wanting a chance. The first man charged at Lonán, who blocked and used him as a shield for the second man’s Stab, once more another man was run into the lower back by one of their own. Lonán pushed the both of them, the still living guard and the one stuck to his blade, straight to one of the bars of a cell, causing the resulting force to break the man’s back.

“And then there were two. I’d run while I still had my life, but I leave this choice to you.” Lonán growled. Shifting the borrowed sword to one hand and drawing his skinning knife in the other, he engaged in a duel against the remaining two when the charged at him. Ducking from one man he sliced one man in the back of his knee with his skinning knife and kicked him forwards, stunning him before he turned to the other. This guard swung causing Lonán to back off, the point nicking him across the bridge of his nose. Growling he began to fight this man with earnest locking blades with him with his borrowed sword before parrying it so hard it flew from the guard’s hand before meeting the skinning knife to his eye.

The remaining guard who was knocked to the ground with a knee wound was last. Lonán stabbed the sword he borrowed into his lower back. He sucked in a huge amount of air as he assessed his injuries. Sore shoulders, cuts across his face, and a cut on his leg. Calming down he turned to look around the room with a deadly calm as he approached his sword before grabbing it, and pulling it out, when he looked at it, he noted the point of the blade had snapped off to remain in the dead guard’s neck.

With another inhale, he calmed his mind, as he began to feel utterly tired from the fight. “Anyone else, want to say Emotion is not in and of itself a devil when it’s wrath is kindled but a little?” He hissed out. “Kyero? You alright?”
 
Kyero stood still as stone, just like he had when they were crouched on the hill outside observing the fort for weaknesses and waiting for the sun to set. His head was turned towards a very specific cell just down the hall. The bars were lightly illuminated by the candles along the path, as were the first few feet of the interior. Beyond the first few feet, all was dark. The only thing visible were tiny stains of something on the stone floors.

The churning red glow in his eyes was now more akin to a simmering liquid than a red flame. And they were locked on something Lonan's eyes could not see. Or... Someone.

Slowly, the men approached the cell.

Inside the soft sounds of breathing could be heard. And as they approached and their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the candles, a figure began to take shape within. A feminine figure with long silky hair. She was seated. Knees forward. Feet to either side. Her arms were held just above shoulder level, held aloft by metal cuffs with chains tying them to the ceiling. Her head hung low, blocking her face from view behind a cascade of golden locks.

And finally, as their eyes acclimated fully, they realized... She had no clothing. Her bountiful hair hid this fact from a distance, but as they grew closer it was unmistakable. Not only was she bare, but her body was covered in bruises and dried blood. A lot of the blood was not her own, but some of it was. And what concerned Kyero the most was where the blood that was hers seemed to be coming from. A few tiny trails dripped from the corners of her mouth, but the majority the story was told by red streaks which ran down the insides of her thighs. Her knees were together, hiding her dignity from view. But that did little to hide the truth of her situation as Kyero slowly closed his eyes and turned his head away.

He took a deep, silent breath and let it out on a sigh through his nose as he gripped one of the bars.

"... Josephine? Can you hear me?" He asked softly.

A few hoarse breaths were her reply, followed by a moment of silence before she finally spoke.

"I... Refuse... To relinquish... My... Claim to the... Throne..." She said quietly.

Her once silky and authoritative voice was just as weak and hoarse as her breaths had been. And even Kyero's stoic and seemingly lifeless eyes drooped slightly as his brow furrowed and he dipped his head, his hand on the bar gripping tighter.

"... Lonan... Get her out of there." He said calmly.
 
Lonán followed Kyero after collecting the keys from one of the guards towards the cell the assassin was locked on. Then saw the one thing he hoped wasn’t a reality. He gripped his hand into a fist in anger as he saw Josephine in a horrible state. His mind began screaming for him to become angry again, but he had almost no energy to take it out on the dead guards. He opened the door then walked towards her tears streaking down his face as he heard her voice.

“I’m so sorry...we should’ve been here sooner.” He said with a choked back sob as he gripped the chains and worked to freeing her from them using the keys. Once that was done, he took the coat he borrowed from Kyero and covered her torso with it, then used his own cloak as a makeshift skirt for her. “T-there...it’ll do till we get to Hawk and use my spare clothes.”

With that, he then picked her up, though Josephine pushed at him with the last of her energy before passing out, adding more to Lonán’s pain, and began carrying her bridal style out of the cell, and hopefully, to freedom. But he vowed one thing as he carried her. “Niils, you’d better hope they don’t permit me to be your executioner... I will not let you get away with this. YOU WILL PAY!!!”
 
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Kyero remained silent as Lonan removed Josephine from the cell. His eyes trailed after the broken blonde's disturbed, unconscious facial expression, taking note of how, even in her sleep, she looked like she was still fighting. Still resisting.

... Much like himself.

As they exited the dungeon and ascended the stairs, Kyero stayed in front to keep their path clear, even though he had next to no emergy left. But thankfully, no one came after them...

That was, of course, until they reached the interior courtyard and stepped onto the grass towards the maim gate.

The crazed woman appeared, flanked by several more guards on either side. Kyero glanced to the left, more guards. To the right. More guards. They even appeared behind the pair.

"I told you before, my dear Demon. Nobody leaves here without my permission."

They slowly moved in, step by step. And Kyero, despite his weakened condition, refused to flinch or back down. Instead, he drew his daggers, and prepared to fight.

"Lonan, keep very still." He ordered.

Kyero bent his knees, and his body began to shake. Slowly, the black aura appeared around his body and flared out violently in all directions. Kyero's eyes began glowing brighter and brighter, until at last their luminescence overshadowed even the moon above them and lit the entire courtyard.

As he spoke, a deep, dark voice spoke in unison with Kyero's.

"Death finds you in my master's radiant light... So who dies first?"

The guards all backed away several steps. All save one. He charged forward towards Kyero, and a split second later he was in Kyero's grasp. Lifted up high over Kyero's head, he was slammed back down head first into the grass, partially embedding his head into the dirt. A second later, his body was thrown downward, and a loud SNAP reverberated through the yard.

The man's body went limp, and as it did so the others ran for their lives towards any escape route they could find. The only one left was the woman who, for the first time, looked genuinely shaken.

"Y-y-you think that... Display proves something? Ha! I'll kill you myself!" She cried.

She dashed forward in an attempt to plunge a dagger into Kyero's skull, but was intercepted by hos own daggers, both stuck firmly in her stomach, before they were ripped out to eother side spilling her imnards across the now thoroughly bloodstained grass.

"N-... No... Not... Like this..." She croaked.

Kyero's aura slowly faded, and without a word he walked over the dying woman towards the gate leaving her to tremble in fear at her rapidly approaching death.
 
Lonán said nothing as they worked their way back to the courtyard. All his attention and energy was focused on getting Josephine out of there. The guards surrounded the two of them as he only gave an amber gleamed glare. He wanted so desperately to fight once more, but with his sword damaged and his ammo currently low, plus Josephine in his arms made it impossible for The Warrior of the Arzura Clan to fight.

So he left it to Kyero to frighten them off and finish off the insane Witch. For if the woman was not a witch from one of Granny Sigrun’s stories, she was certainly insane. He kept his eyes glued to the gate, and kept his thoughts thinking on getting back to Her’thall and punishing anyone else involved in Niils’ conspiracy.

He didn’t even have to look behind him to know that Kyero pulled a gamble that paid off. The guards ran for their lives, and he finished off the Witch. “Let’s get out of here. All of us.” He said as he headed for the gate, where once they got it opened, he’d call for Hawk, and begin their journey back to Her’thall and put a stop to Niils once and for all.

Oh, how Lonán looked forward to seeing him again...
 
The moon above rose to its peak and fell beyond the horizon, heralding the coming of the dawn. Hawk rode at a steady peace through the night, stopping only when Kyero forced them to so Lonan could pull the bolts from his back and give them a crude patch job using what few tools Kyero had at his disposal. Linde would fix him up proper later.

The next morning, the pair of them were on the road heading back once more. Getting back would take at least another three days. Josephine had five days left to claim the throne, so they'd make it back with two to spare. But still, the journey back would be a long one. Particularly for Lonan given his more than obvious state. Kyero, though hard to read, was also in pain over the failure to save her from a horrible outcome. She was alive, but remained in a bad way.

All morning long she sat on Hawk with a distant, glazed look in her eyes. And every now and then she would start whispering to herself, recalling the torturous experience she had suffered in the cell. She had fought valiantly. Defied them at every step. Even in the midst of her horror, she refused to give in to the demands thrown at her. The insults. The accusations. She defied it all.

Kyero had to admit, it was incredible how she could continue fighting even in her current condition.

Whenever they tried to speak to her, she responded either with silence or another whispering of what she'd gone through. They couldn't get anything akin to "normal" out of her. But, in Kyero's experience, this was to be expected.

---------------------

Back at the inn, as the sun rose upon the window of Linde's room, she was passed out on the floor just beside the bed... Skin pale and sweat spreading through the fabric of her clothing making it stick to her body.
 
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Linde glared at Niils who replied with a contented smirk. Her body felt hot, and she was beginning to sweat. She tugged at the dollar of her blouse, trying to fan herself a little as he cocked his head to the side.

"Enjoying the view?" She hissed.

"Very much so." He replied with a chuckle.

A knock came at the door, and as Linde stood a sudden dizziness overcame her. She crumpled to the floor in a heap with Niils getting a nice look up her skirt before she managed to stand up.

"Careful now, Doctor. We wouldn't want you getting hurt." He teased.

Linde ignored him and opened the door.

Aetrius had silently awaited for the door to be opened, and when it did a look of concern over took her face. She scanned how Linde looked over twice in her head, "Are you alright, Linde?" she questioned, genuine concern and worry evident in her voice as she spoke.

With a brief side eye she look at Niils past Linde's shoulder. "Niils." she greeted with a stone cold tone and glare and held it for a brief moment. Turning back to Linde she placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the heat and sweat forming on her skin. "Go get some rest, you're hot." she stated with a small smile.

Linde gave Aetri a smirk and a wink.

"I know I am." She teased.

Still, she did as asked and put up no resistance. Slipping past Aetri, she disappeared into the other room while Niils only continued to smile despite his helpless and wounded state.

A small grin formed on her face at the small joke, shaking her head a bit as Linde left the room. Once the sound of the door closing behind them she turned to Niils, the expression on her face had entirely dropped. The smile and brief glint of happiness was gone, what remained was the soulless eyes of a hunter that had its eyes on their prey.

Silently she strolled over and sat in the chair that was across from the man. She studied him for a moment before speaking, "How're you feeling?" she asked, her voice numb and void of any genuine emotion.

Niils leaned his head back, looking down his nose at her.

"Quite well, thank you. And yourself?"

A small grin appeared on her mouth, but for only a moment but soon disappeared. "Better than you honestly, I'd have to say. All considering." she said blatantly, as a fore mention of his recent injuries.

He shrugged with one shoulder.

"It could be worse. Broken fingers and rent flesh will mend, but hands don't grow back."

Aetrius grinned, "Not like you used them very often, seeing as you used your men to do the dirty work for you, meanwhile you could sit back and do nothing." she said plainly as she shrugged.

Niils chuckled.

"The luxuries of power and influence are sweet, indeed. I needn't sully my hands, and that leaves me free to tend to more important matters like killing a traitor who threatens this nation's rulership... You've met her already. What do you think of her?"

Aetrius grinned as she relaxed in the chair, crossing her arms a bit as she spoke, "I wouldn't know. I haven't met any traitors other than yourself. That's a different story in it's own though." She said rather coldly as she waved him off with her left hand.

Niils straightened his neck.

"You think that so?... Interesting." He trailed off as he rolled his shoulders.

"You carry interesting company about you. A traitor. An oaf with a sword. The little one. The Doctor. And... A Demon." His tone darkened despite the smile he kept.

"You would ally yourself with the embodiment of wickedness... Why is that?"

A grin creased her lips as he spoke of who she was in accompany with. "You're one to talk about being in company of, if I'm being honest." she said plainly as she looked back up at him, her expression solemn and emotionless now.

"You'd be surprised about Kyero. But that is none of your business. And the others, leave them out of this." she said coldly, the words he said having an obvious affect on her.

Niils betrayed no change of emotion.

"You seem to think you know him. You even gave him a name... It would be cute if it wasn't so wrong."

He shifted his weight slightly.

"I don't suppose you've any idea the things he's done. Rumors and urban legends hardly do it justice."

He cocked his head slightly.

"I've seen his work first hand. And as cold as I can be, even I would not wish what he's wrought on other people. But you tolerate it... Why?"

"I know what he's done, and have witnesses plenty and more of what he is capable of. He's saved people's lives when he easily could have let them die. He's saved my hide more than once." she said calmly, eyeing him once more.

Slowly she stood up, hands folded behind her back as she paced across the room, keeping her eyes on him, "I can't judge what others have done, my hands aren't clean either. We do what we have to do to survive, even if it goes against what we believe in, and it goes against it. Survival clashing with morals is a common place with this world..." she spoke softly, knowing half of the things she did were wrong and ended with plenty of others dying, but it was for survival, over morals. Tough choices were never easy to make and she knew that.

Niils' smirk slowly returned to his lips.

"So... You're like him." He said quietly.

"Your past is stained with blood, yet you judge me not for what you know to be true. But what someone else told you."

He shifted his weight again, keeping his eyes on her at all times.

"You think you or the Demon have any right to judge me or try and prevent my ascension to the throne?"

A grin appeared on her face once more as she shook her face, "My past is stained with blood, but none of it was innocent bloodshed." she stated coldly, looking at him with a side eye.

"And I don't judge anyone, unless proven otherwise. I give people second chances, unless I see a reason not to." she snapped back as she gave him a cold glare.

Niils' smirk never left.

"You're certain that not a single life you've extinguished was innocent?" He asked calmly.

"How about the Demon? How many lives has he taken that were innocent, I wonder? Have you ever asked him?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I never laid a hand on the innocent. I only ever went after murderers and rapists, slave masters and abusers. Never the innocent. As for him, I have no right to cast judgement. For what he's done is his past and his alone. I don't stick my nose where it doesn't belong" she stated coldly and simply.

Niils chuckled.

"And still you judge, marking others as unworthy of innocence merely because of a personal moral bias. Oh youthful ignorance..."

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Tell me. How do you know you can trust the Demon?" He asked, opening his eyes.

"Just because he saved your life once or twice? Maybe he did a few good deeds? How can you be certain this isn't some kind of ploy? A long con to drop your guard so he can take your life next?"

He cocked his head again.

"Or maybe it's not your life he's after at all. Maybe it's one of the others?... Maybe it's the little one he's after." He hissed through his smile.

Aetrius glared at him, her eyes burning holes into his skull as she spoke, "I haven't left my guard down entirely. My guard is always up." she said coldly.

"And what little one are you inferring to, if I must ask?" she questioned, curious what he was implying.

Niils' smirk widened.

"The one who bears a resemblance to you, of course. Your cousin or sister, if I had to guess. Sometimes family can get weird in Shaharan, no?"

Aetrius glowered at him, her eyes full of malice, "Do not bring her into this matter, you bastard." she growled.

"And her name is Kieran, and she's my sister, not my cousin. And families are weird everywhere, so your point there is a bit of a far reach."

Niils chuckled.

"If you say so, child. If you say so."

He took a deep breath.

"But back to the matter at hand. Tell me. Did the traitor ever tell you why she wanted the throne?"

Aetrius glared at him as he spoke, "You mean Josephine? The Princess? And yes, because she was next in line and chosen by the prior Queen that was murdered in cold blood. But tell me what you think the reason is then."

"Is that what she's been feeding you? Come now. How does a commoner like her become familiar with a Queen and become next in line for the throne? Did you seriously never ask her to fully explain herself?"

He scoffed.

"If you had, you'd see plenty of holes in her story. Especially if you know anything about Triveila's laws and political hierarchy."

Aetrius raised an eyebrow at him as he spoke waiting for him to finish, "Then enlighten me." she stated rather plainly.

"Gladly."

He shifted his weight and huffed through his nose.

"The traitor who you know as Josephine is a commoner. Her family came i to wealth when she was young following her father's journey into real estate, renting properties to clients. However, they remain officially a common blood family. According to Triveilan law Article 13B, paragraph seven, no commoner may, through business or personal connection, change their social class. Commoners are commoners even after they're dead."

He shifted his weight again.

"The idea she met the Queen and was named as her successor is also a lie. Though she shares the first name, the Queen named Josephine Seiros as her successor in a public rally two years ago. The Josephine you know ran away from home at a young age and only recently returned to Triveila."

He chuckled.

"How did she sell you on this, may I ask? Did she bat her eye lashes at the lads?"

Aetrius grinned and shook her head, "May I ask why you have such a high aversion to her then? Putting all the rules and laws of Triveila aside, as it has no meaning to me in honest truth. she stated all too plainly as she yawned slightly, feeling herself begin to grow bored with their current affairs.

Niils huffed.

"I hold an aversion to her because it's her fault the Queen is dead. Or didn't she mention that?"

He sighed.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. You won't believe me because you've already cemented her as being in the right in your mind. That's plain as day to see. It's just a shame you don't care about the truth."

He suddenly grinned.

"If you did, you might not have to die."

Aetrius sighed as he spoke, she had a feeling he was right, but a part of her could tell he was lying. Something in the way he spoke didn't sit right with her and she knew that. "I think I can trust my own judgement, thank you very much." She snapped back.

"Hmph. The judgement of younger people is always skewed by emotion."

He shifted slightly.

"What do you know of assassins, dear girl?"

Aetrius' eyebrow arched as he spoke, "I'm not like most people from my homeland. There's reasons I've never gone back. And what do I know of assassins?" she questioned.

It was a strange question to ask, but she figured she'd oblige him. "Trained and often hired killers that kill in solitude, as well as stealth. Rarely being seen by anyone. Why?"

"How right you are..." He said quietly.

All the times Niils had shifted his weight during their conversation had moved his chair slightly further away from Aetrius... and more in direct line with the window.

The window suddenly shattered under the weight of a large man who landed in a crouch with both a sword and dagger drawn before lunging towards their chairs.

Silence filled the room for a solid moment, before the sound of glass shattering, sending shards into parts of her arm and face, but only a few as she managed to react fast enough and turn away.

Quickly turning back to face Niils and the assassin, her fists tightened as she reached for her weapons, unsheathing her sword as she got into a defensive stance, with her leg injury she was in no shape for offensive fighting. Such a terrible time to get attacked she thought.

"Kieran!! I need your help!" She exclaimed, hoping her sister hadn't left just yet. Thudding came down from the hallway meet seconds later, the door swinging open as a second person ran in. A smirk on her face, "Good thing I decided to hang around a bit longer, what happened?" She questioned.

Aetrius didn't turn to look but kept her eyes on the men, "Assassin, trying to help Niils escape." She said coldly.

The assassin had freed Niils from his bindings in the time it took Kieran to arrive and speak to Aetri. Niils scooted across the floor to a nearby wall as the assassin raised his weapons and slowly stalked towards the girls.

The two of them kept an eye on Niils, seeing how he clung tightly to the wall. Aetrius looked back at the assassin as she handed Kieran one of her swords. "Be careful." she cautioned Kieran, taking a few steps toward, pain shot through her leg as she walked, bracing the pain the best she could she continued to stand in front of Kieran, making sure she kept at a distance. The assassin crept forward, pausing in the center of the room before kicking Aetri's chair away so he didn't trip on it. But it didn't take long for him to launch himself forward swinging his sword in a downward arc while keeping the dagger close to his chest in the event he needed it to defend. With as much speed as she could muster in such a short amount of time she managed to block his attack, feeling his strength and raw power bare down on her easily, her are buckled slightly as she maintained a sword lock with him for a few moments before she managed to push him off.

Meanwhile Kieran made her way towards Niils, trying to keep him from escaping if he attempted, as well as getting around the assassin. Using the force of her push to spin himself around, he whipped the sword as fast as he could horizontally towards her midsection. Aetrius managed to avoid the blade from doing any fatal damage or cause any major injuries, but the blade did manage to leave a minor slice that caused some blood to spill. Grasping her stomach for a moment she looked back up at the man and growled, pushing back and away from Niils, trying to bring the man to her, and away from him.

The assassin was not satisfied with the shallow cut and dove towards Aetrius with all the speed he could muster.

Meanwhile, Niils smirked at Kieran.

"Unless you want her to die, you might want to help her. You think I can escape with broken hands from a second story room?"

Kieran smirked as Niils told her to go and help her if she didn't want her sister to die, "I dunno, why not try and see how well it goes?" she jeered, knowing full well he couldn't go anywhere with broken hands and injured feet. Kieran quickly looked over to see how Aetrius was fairing, she was currently now injured and was in need of help. As the man lunged towards Aetrius, she proceeded to lung forwards going for a swing of her own, aiming for the middle of his back.

With practiced and muscle-memory driven skill, the assassin twisted his foot and lurched into the path of Aetri's attacking arm and planted his forearm into her bicep before the attack could gain the momentum to become lethal. Pushing her arm away, he aimed a knee at her stomach. Aetrius was quick, but not as quick as she'd need to be to block the blow, only able to grab his leg and soften the blow. But having down so her guard was lowered and she was pushed back from the pure strength this man contained.

Something was off about this man, making sure to get as good of a look at his face that she could. Kieran did her best to try and stop the man, but all she could do was simply grab onto him and try her best to pry his attention away from the already tiring Aetrius. Kieran's pulling at his arm was an unwelcome distraction. Thrusting his knee downward while Aetri held o to it, he leaned forward, dragging Kieran with him, and threw his arm backwards hoping the force would be enough to launch her back and give him more room to move.

With what seemed to be all too simple ease he shrugged Kieran off who was thrown to the ground, an unnerving crack sounded as the back of her head hit the floor. Meanwhile Aetrius had managed to roll away from the initial kick that was aimed for her stomach, but it was the second time that got her, a sudden and powerful kick caused her to gasp for air as all of it was expelled from her lungs at the impact of hit foot hitting her stomach.

With Kieran off him and Aetri gasping for breath, the assassin took the opportunity to capitalize on the development. The dagger was sheathed, and a large hand opened while reaching for Aetri, intent on slamming her forehead into the floor. Aetrius tried her best to scramble away from the man, pulling herself away as best as she could, but suddenly she felt a hand reach around the back of her neck. "J-just take him, okay? You don't need to kill anyone... Just take him, okay?" she spat out as she tried to get his grip loose from his hold.

Niils smirked.

"Seems you don't know much about assassins after all." He chuckled.

The assassin lifted Aetri up and thrust her head downwards directly towards the floor. If it didn't kill her, it would certainly knock her out. All she could do was attempt to pry his hand from the back of her neck, but with one swift motion he took her head and smashed it into the hardwood floor, everything going silent and black as she blacked out from the force and impact of the floor...
 
ZAGAROTH DANYELL​

As the morning sun rose, Zagaroth opened his eyes. He had never been a heavy sleeper and such woke up with sun. He sat up and stretched, he couldn't remember when he had slept that comfortable last time. Opening his bag and taking out the meat he still had left, small piece of bread and an apple, he started to eat while trying to think what was the next plan. If the courier had been with that group of merchants travelling last night, he wouldn't yet had made his way to the palace. So it was worth a shot to make his way there and hopefully stop the message. After all he had seen glimpse of everyone's faces last night and would most likely be able to recognize them. The bigger issue was stealing the bag in broad daylight, near the palace gate and it's guards.

And then there was the another job. Zagaroth glanced at the monk’s bag. He hoped to return it to him somehow. But it would have to wait for a bit longer. Taking bite of the apple he walked out of the window, watching the quiet street below him. “Lemnia bless me" he muttered, remembering the monk's words. It was all or nothing.

After his quick breakfast, he left the inn with a quick nod to the innkeeper as he passed him. Holding half of an apple on his hand he went to his horse and gave her a pat, a smile and the apple. “Thanks for the help, hopefully someone else picks you up soon.” He wouldn’t need a horse for now as it just slowed him down. As Zagaroth walked towards the general direction of the castle, he spotted a guard. “Excuse me" his voice once more polite but this time he was strengthening his Veilbrandian accent to make it more clear, “Could you tell the way to the castle? I'm delivering a gift from King Erguus of Veilbrand to the leader of Triveila.”

The guard stopped and looked at the man with an raised eyebrow. He gave the directions but added, “However your gift might have to wait as our throne is empty this very moment.”

The news surprised Zagaroth. There was no ruler? It was almost too perfect. He had just gained at least a little more time to find the real messenger. “Why thank you for the information. The news had not reached Veilbrand as I left. I will enjoy your city in the meanwhile.” He headed away from the guard, making his way towards the castle as it was now time to plan his next moves.
 
To say Lonán felt dismayed at how things turned out at Moraellen would be on the nose. He was in a mixture of moods. He was sad at himself and for Josephine’s condition, as he’d stroke her hand every time she looked at him. That sadness easily converted to silent bouts of anger towards the man responsible for all this. If the Saharan has a moment alone with him in the state he was in, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

He sat behind her, holding the reins of Hawk with one hand, and trying to gently keep her upright in the horse with another. Quite the task for him, but this caused Hawk to take an hour or so to adapt to two people on his back. That and the stallion wanted to ensure his friend was in the right state of mind and being before planning to make any galloping to speed things along.

What also saddened Lonán, was the fact his sword, a gift he forged under the watchful eyes of The Old Wolf, was damaged. Potentially to the point of irreparability. This coupled with everything happening, made him feel like he failed everyone, including himself. What more could he have done to save her?

“What more could I have done?! Answer me!” He shouted mentally to the heavens, hoping Heresta would hear him. But like poor Josephine, no response came. Groaning in slight despair, he looked out at the skies trying to ease the pain by trying to find anything to look at. It was then, his mind began to hear a voice.

“Lonán.”

He looked sharply and thought he saw something in the a small gathering of clouds. He couldn’t put his finger on it, yet he swore he saw a face, a younger feminine face, but grey eyes that seemed to hold a silver fire in them. The bizarre part? He recognized those eyes.

“Gran-Gran? Grandmother Sigrun?” He wondered. No. It was impossible yet..

“Come now My Little Robin. Why are you despairing?” The voice said, the face in the clouds keeping a small neutral smile. Lonán’s eyes widened as he heard it utter that. No one but his grandmother called him by that nickname. It was either Young Raven or Lo back home. Robin was her nickname to give.

“Grandmother. I... I failed. I failed to save a friend, and the Man who caused it still breathes. But, even so.. I can’t help but feel I failed more then her. I failed my friends, my family, The Clan’s Honor! I don’t even deserve to be called a Warrior of the Arzura!” He Cried out to her mentally.

“What utter nonsense. You never failed us. So your sword’s dinged up. I always said if it’s broken, fix it. If it can’t be fixed then replace or reforge it. That is one of the many lessons The Old Wolf got from me as his wife.” Sigrun answered back. “That being said, Wake up from this emotional stupor and get your arse moving! Because if you spend your time moping around here treating the poor girl like a porcelain doll instead of getting Horus’s Colt moving to beat this man to a Bloody pulp, I will show you how painful my scolding staff can be upon your head in a spiritual manner!”

That snapped Lonán back to looking at the clouds once more in shock, only to find the face of his grandmother gone.

“This is what happens if I don’t meditate after a battle...” he muttered to himself as he grabbed both hands on the reins. “Hawk! Come on! We’ve got to hurry back! To Her’Thall!” At this, the stallion began to pick up his pace, carrying both individuals as best he could. “Let’s keep moving Kyero!”
 
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With the light of the morning filtering through the curtains of a dim room, the oft normal sounds began to filter through the open window, the winds flowed in periodically with the scents of various manners, that of baked goods, of meat being smoked, and of the lovely scent of whatever horse just walked by. Lovely. As the room became slowly more illuminated, shuffling was heard, not from the bed where one normally slept, as that lay empty, almost untouched as a small figure slowly sat up from the table nearby. Waking from a deep sleep, a pair of emerald eyes gazed around the darkened room, the candle had burnt out long ago, leaving the room in a shade of azure thanks to the streak of light that shone towards the inner wall. Eventually, the sound of a chair being pushed out echoed in the room, and the curtains were soon drawn back, changing the colours of the room from azure to the golden light of the sun's warmth. In that time, she soon took up her brush. First removing the brass headband that crossed her head, and running the bristles of said brush through the deep brown, shoulder length hair which still held a slight wavy shape, even with the intensive brushing that was given. Afterwards, with her headband back in it's position, the woman would turn back to the desk she was at, where the components of what appeared to be a musket were seen, a deep sigh came from her mouth, as she remembered how she could feel sleep edging in as she work, "I am shocked I seldom have problems from sleeping like that at least once a week...." She mumbled, frustrated with herself on the matter. Sitting back down at the table, she began her careful work of putting the musket back together, ensuring the health of the metal, and reducing the idea of any misfire or jam from happening. In the silence of the tinkering only little could be heard, a tap of metal being placed on hardwood, scraping and brushing sounds of cleaning instruments, and the loud banging against the door, before the harsh sound of a metal rod clattering against the ground. One of the innkeepers had come to offer breakfast to the woman, speaking in a hoarse voice that subtly sounded like boots over a gravel surface,

"Lady Emmaryys, are you awake?" He asked, pausing before his next comment, "I will take by the clattering that you are."

"A-ah! Y-yes. Um... Thank you." The response from Emmaryys was quick, as she placed a hand over her chest, in a vain attempt at calming her heart, after a second of silence, she rose once more, approaching the door, "I will be there in a moment." A swift comment to allow her one quick gaze over herself with the mirror she had, it was steel and durable, her clothes were mildly ruffled from working in them, paired with sleeping in them, and having the life scared out of her in them, but the brown leather straps held the sleeves of her silky, cream coloured shirt in place, as the straps connected to another brown fabric, that went up her arms and shoulders and wrapping around as the collar of the blouse, at the front of her ruffled shirt was a small tie around the top buttons, keeping the shirt closed over her chest, proceeding down was more of the leather, beginning just below her upper chest a soft corset wrapped around her waist, it's use was as the top layer of buttons to her shirt and to take some of the impact of the musket from her should Emmaryys fire from the hip. After that, more of the cream coloured fabric, as it formed a ruffled skirt and gown that appears to have been tied open at the front, showing the ruffled skirt underneath and more of the brown fabric which is met at the knees by a pair of boots, strapped on over her lower thighs. Just thinking of how much is there made Emmaryys sigh, as it took forever to put on all of this.

With her quick inspection of her attire done, the door was opened for the innkeep, who towered over the meek frame of Emmaryys, who stood at just under his shoulders, with his arms easily the size of her head. The man looked down to her, "Lady Emmaryys, why are you wearing your goggles....?" He asked, bemused at the sight of the girl, and that she hadn't noticed the fact that she had been wearing the goggles that she's used to protect her eyes since she began tinkering. Reaching up to her eyes, Emmaryys could feel the metal rims that held the glass in place, her face flushed out as she hadn't even felt them on,

"A-ah! I'm Sorry!" She exclaimed, quickly removing her goggles from her face, dropping them below her chin and around her neck, before asking a simple question, "W-what can I help you with?" To which the innkeep took a deep sigh, looking past her for a moment, and noticing the mess she had made on the table, a gun taken apart wasn't abnormal to him, as he was one of the few inns that took those with weapons, and he knew of Emmaryys' antics, having housed her multiple times in the past year or two, still, he felt need to say something,

"Be sure you clean that up before you leave. I do not need guards storming the building." His voice remained low for that moment, before changing tone without any notion of his previous comments,"Moving along, it's last call for Breakfast, Lady Emmaryys. I would recommend going downstairs if you want a hot meal for the day." With those words were a few nods and a small thank you from Emmaryys before the Innkeep walked away to the other slow risers. As Emmaryys closed the door, her eyes set back at the table again,

"I should put you back together, shouldn't I....?" Emmaryys mumbled, walking over to the barrel that had lain on the ground while she spoke to the Innkeep, a quick glance made sure it wasn't damaged, as she placed it back on the table, goggles on, and the tinkering woman was back to work,and in a matter of minutes, the musket was back together, a quick check of the mechanics of the rifle was in order, to ensure that everything was back together with no error. Taking aim, Emmaryys aimed at the distant corner, primed the flint back, and pulled the trigger. Click. The familiar sound of the hammer being brought down onto the pan, a small spark was seen as the flint ground against the fizzle, which if primed, would've caused the powder to light and a shot to be fired. Gently patting other parts of her, she could feel where the two pistols were holstered, which were under the petticoat and gown which bloomed from the bustle underneath, the two weapons remained hidden when in Triveila as a precaution, especially with all that Emmaryys brought.

Shouldering a messenger bag underneath the strap of the rifle, Emmaryys was ready, and promptly left the room, her footfalls seeming louder than normal for someone of her stature, which was due to the heavy leather boots with what appeared to be a metal wrapping over the sole and toe, giving more of a hard knocking sound on the hardwood over the normal thumping of leather soled shoes. The hallway was rather short, as Emmaryys' room opened close to the stairs to the common room, in that time, the much heavier footfalls of the Innkeep could be heard further down the hall, likely to the eighth room that was occupied. Going down the stairs, Emmaryys was met with the usual traffic at this time, people having gotten up and eating, some drinking, some already drunk, and the few that never stopped. A typical tavern, however, she did not stop, not until she was at the oak door that led to the street. A small yawn came over her for but a moment she could've slept longer, but that would wait, as she still had to meet with Lord Tsuyoshi over the matter of Alfric's marriage showing more frays than that of the end of a whip, why Emmaryys was sent instead of her father, or even her mother was beyond her, as even she knew not to send Alfric to Lord Tsuyoshi's manor, as he would likely never be seen again.

That thought overshadowed the heavy clank of the door's latch being released and the bustle of the capital of the city that began to wake. The sunlight began to cascade on the street, gleaming off the edge of the barrel of the rifle that rest on the left shoulder of Emmaryys, as her footfalls clacked against the cobble street surface, sounding akin to that of horseshoes over the rocks. There were obvious looks sent her way, all of them due in part to the long rifle that towered over her shoulder, it's barrel aiming to the sky above. A few streets were crossed and moved through, Emmaryys was happy though, to not have to take her caravan, as the stares would be intolerable. It took around an hour of walking to reach the large fencing of Deumontt manor, a small wall lay on the border of the road and front courtyard of the massive house. Inside, was Lord Harada Tsuyoshi, whose daughter, Nakao, had married into the Littlefield family, though the marriage was unstable, as she and Alfric's personalities mismatched horribly. Emmaryys was there to sort out some way to keep the Tsuyoshi-Littlefield alliance without marriage involved. As the groundskeepers came to greet the young noble, she could see the front doors open, as a maid walked forward, she was of middle-age, and possessed that aura of power one would have in a leading role of sorts. Gazing at Emmaryys, the woman pushed her glasses up over her amber eyes, with a stone cold expression accented by her long, black hair coming over her shoulder in a large braid, she spoke with a terse tone, obviously not expecting a gun-wearing woman to come to the gate, "State your business, child."

Child. How many times has she been called that? This woman had the nerve to call a noble a child? How unequivocally rude! "I am Emmaryys Littlefield, I've come to speak with Lord Tsuyoshi on the matters of my brother Alfric and Lady Nakao's marriage." While she was annoyed of the maid's words, Emmaryys refused to show that anger, but instead pulled one of the leather gloves off her hands, showing her left hand, and the branded insignia that stained the back of her left hand, the older woman seemed to acknowledge the insignia, motioning to the groundskeepers for Emmaryys to be let in, before speaking, her tone nary even a falter from the terse, and almost condescending tone from earlier,

"Hm. We were not expecting you this early--"

"Father sent you a message that I would arrive within a fortnight. I've arrived earlier than expected, but, within parameters that both parties agreed to." A quick response to the curtness of the maid, how dare she treat a noble in such a manner? Emmaryys might be the youngest of her siblings, but she still is the daughter of Marquis Littlefield, and as such should be treated with the respect and decency that one should get as a Marchioness. But that was put aside as she waked forward and into the house. The manor was in the same style that the rest of the country shared, a foreign concept to Emmaryys, as she saw more of the sliding doors and what appeared to be paper windows and the like. Walking through the manor behind the maid, she noticed the distinct sound of wooden footwear on hardwood, it masked her footfalls with ease. Glancing out, Emmaryys had now noticed the garden in the center of the manor, with Lady Nakao within, looking to be simply enjoying the fresh air. The woman looked over, another set of amber eyes met the emerald eyes of Emmaryys, who simply waved to Nakao with a polite smile, only to meet that with a head turn, gazing away from the young noblewoman. Understandable, Alfric and her were oft seen bickering and battling like two wolves over a meal, thus it was no shock to Emmaryys when she was met with discomfort.

"Wait here, Lady Emmaryys." The maid spoke, breaking the thoughts of the woman that followed, who stopped suddenly, and unexpectedly. After an affirming nod, the maid stepped away, entering a room after peeking in, and announcing herself, "Lord Tsuyoshi, Marchioness Emmaryys Littlefield has arrived." Professional sounding in her tone, with a small hint of nervousness that Emmaryys hand't noticed at first, but set in after she looked over the raven-haired woman, who kept her head down, despite not being in direct presence of the Lord, and the mild trembling that was felt as a kind hand was placed on her shoulder, eyes locked for a moment as the woman looked back to the warm smile of the Marchioness. She's been there before, with fear of one person, and understood the feeling that oft displayed itself in the ugliest of ways. Though both jumped for a moment, as a harsh voice cut through the warm silence in a way a knife would through warmed butter.

"Send her in"

"Right away, My Lord." A quick reply from the woman, as she returned to her feet, and opening the door for Emmaryys, within sat a man, in a luxurious gown that looked to be many light layers that thickened the outfit to keep him warm. It was getting to be that time where even Emmaryys thought of grabbing her half-cloak to warm her. But that was brushed away, as she set her rifle down behind her seat, which was a cushion on the floor, akin to most other places in Triveila. Taking a better look, the man had what appeared to have been black hair, which has slowly begun to fade into a deep gray as it furthered from the top of the scalp, his face resembled Nakao's, thin eyes that were amber in colour, a rounded nose, and more sandy complexion, pursed in his lips appeared to be a long pipe, which seemed to have finished smoking at the end, Emmaryys guessed he had just finished smoking as, he knew House Littlefield's youngest daughter oft had gunpowder on her, best not to have fire. Yet, he spoke first, with a harsh voice that seemed to have some due respect to it,

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Marchioness Littlefield."

"As with you, Lord Tsuyoshi. Though, I'd personally rather being called Emmaryys, as you should know." Emmaryys' words seemed polite, yet casual, as she had no enjoyment of hearing someone grovel to her,

"Ah yes, that is acceptable, Lady Emmaryys." A deep breath was taken by Lord Tsuyoshi, as he knew what was coming, "I shall guess you're here to talk of Nakao and Alfric's marriage?"

"I am. Yes."

"I thought so. I've heard from both Nakao and many of her retainers that she and Lord Alfric do not get along, am I correct to presume that?"

"You are. My brother and Lady Nakao do not seem to enjoy each other's very presence at times. Though it is not at fault of Lady Nakao, as she gets along with my mother and myself quite well, both Lady Littlefield and I decided to speak to you of a different arrangement, for the health of Lady Nakao and Alfirc." A quick explanation from Emmaryys was also joined with a scroll, which housed the seal of house Littlefield, "This is the rights of the separation of the two, and new terms, for both houses to trade with Economic benefits to both houses. I will allow you to read over the terms. I do hope we can come to a better agreement, for not only our houses, but Lady Nakao as well."With those words hanging in the air, Emmaryys watched the Lord reach out and take the document, breaking the seal over it and began reading, there appeared to be mild caution in his face, as Emmaryys watched, while a different servant brought tea to the two nobles, a quiet thank you was given, as she looked to the servant, who nodded appreciatively. After they left, it was silence again, as Emmaryys waited for some sort of response.

"If I am reading this right, House Littlefield's trade would be the meats and alike from their southern pastures, in exchange for my house becoming a trade route to your march?"

"Yes, and you would also get a share of the profits our trade would make. I suppose a thirty-five percent cut would be fair, as we also would be trading you the quarries of our southern pastures and hunting grounds, granting you far greater profits within Triveila."

Lord Tsuyoshi's brow furrowed for a moment, as his voice raised in protest, "Only thirty-five percent? Are you trying to--"

"Lord Tsuyoshi, Triveila trades in meat from other countries, increasing the prices. For allowing us to trade through your territory without tariff or tax, you would receive the thirty-five percent of the profit we make, along with varying meats at no cost. Which you could sell to the market at a drastically lower price, undercutting the price and selling faster and better than any butcher could dream of, and keep all of the profit from that. I would say, House Tsuyoshi benefits far more than House Littlefield in this matter. I think that should suffice for Lady Nakao's and Alfric's grief."

"I suppose you do make a point, Lady Emmaryys...."

"The document does not state this, but, House Littlefield will keep Lady Nakao's marriage with Alfric under the rose, as to protect her from the curse of a failed marriage. 'Tis only fair to do so if I say so myself."

"And what of your nosy neighbours in house Rainford?"

"They will stay silent of the matter as well. They know not to cross house Littlefield. Provided they know of the matter, if they were to spread the story, they would face quite the strife economically speaking, let alone Lord Rainford is no more than a simple Baron, Marquis Wallace Littlefield will not be too keen to his actions."

"Well then...." Lord Tsuyoshi remarked, while leaning back, lowering the paper to his lap, snickering with the pipe in mouth, "You Littlefields think of everything, don't you?" His comment was left unanswered, as the answer was clear with the exchange. With silence lasting for but a brief moment, before the light clinking sounds of the teacup being placed back onto it's saucer, and then to the hardwood of the table, the Lord watched as Emmaryys' eyes opened once again from the tea, her emerald hues dead locked onto his eyes, he could feel the power that she emanated, yet, the kindness that she held underneath ebbed it's way up, seemingly usurping the power that she held and presented. The silence lingered for a few more moments, with both nobles in thought on what to say or do next. Leaning forward, Lord Tsuyoshi spoke again, "You swear that this will not be spoken of?"

"The matter will follow us to our graves." Emmaryys replied, extending her left hand, revealing the deep colour over her skin, a detailed rose within three circles, one being a solid line, one written in Gwenuryian, and the third one being made of vines leading to a crown at the top, continuing down many lines danced along her skin as embroidered lines over fabric crossing and dancing to the bulbs of roses at the bottom and sides. These lines crossed paths with chains, extending from the crown down over the rose, and over the center of the emblem, an intricate and painful decree of pedigree, "We swear by the Rose de Mai, that this matter shalt not leave this room."

"Good. Then, Lady Emmaryys, we have an understanding and deal." With those words hanging in the air, Lord Tsuyoshi grabbed a wooden block, rectangular in shape and carved on only one side, which was soon dipped in the pool of ink that sat next to it within a small saucer, and with a hard press, left an insignia on the paper, where a simple stamp of the Rose de Mai sat. The agreement was settled, and with the ink dried, the paper rolled back. After being handed back to Emmaryys, it was soon placed within a small metal tube, latching shut at the center.

"I am glad we could come to an agreement, Lord Tsuyoshi." After those words, Emmaryys stood, taking up her musket to her shoulder, before walking out, with the oft usual hard footsteps that she was used to. Walking back to the street once more, after being escorted by the same maid, Emmaryys stretched, her back finally felt sore from her horrible sleeping posture last night, great. But that would have to wait, as she walked with the metal clacking sound, the sun was still high in the air, though close to the zenith of it's reign over the skies. Paired with the soreness of her back, came a second feeling, a deep rumble below her ribs, Emmaryys was now regretting skipping out on breakfast. Reaching for a bronze chain, a small disc was connected to the other side, which flipped open at the press of a button. Within host twelve numbers on a dial, and two bars reaching from the center, pointing at the numbers, a pocket clock as the noble called it. Looking at the hands of the pocket clock, it reaffirmed what she thought, they read with the short hand at eleven, another at three, it was truly late morning. Knowing the time, Emmaryys felt it safe to presume some food stands should be opening if they haven't already, with that in mind, the noblewoman set off towards the market district of the giant city. In that time, she thought to get some sort of trinket for her mother, as Emmaryys made the venture in her mother's place, as such, a small trinket wouldn't hurt. But first, she knew what to get, food.

--

Hours later, the familair sound of metal plates hitting wood once more, as the evening rush came in for supper, Emmaryys was just trying to go back to her room. It was busy, with many around the common room of the large tavern, which frustrated the noblewoman, as all she wanted to do was get upstairs to take off her boots and relax before having to set off to return to her home. But first, she had to push through an inebriated crowd of mostly travelers with several locals intermixed within, all loudly talking over one another carelessly. All the while, Emmaryys evaded and pushed her way through, ending by the stairs that led to the rooms upstairs, finally, some freedom. Climbing the stairs, the sounds of the tavern's common room echoed and felt even louder before dulling down to a murmur as it felt, the hallway was mostly quiet, apart from the sparse movement of the other guests.

With the sound of the latch of the door opening, Emmaryys felt a sense of relief, not from being in her room, but that of the talks with Lord Tsuyoshi having gone so well, and the alliance between the two houses remained stable. T'was a fair trade, all things considered, though left unsaid, there was rumor that Nakao was attempting to control Alfric, and attempted to force changes onto House Littlefield without consent of the family's Patriarch, while Emmaryys began to unstrap and remove her boots, she couldn't help but think of the glare she was given, did Nakao really hate her? Or was it because of Alfric being... As abrasive as his younger sister knew he was? Or could she have known the plan to remove her from the family? Those thoughts rushed through her mind, there was an unsettled feeling in her, as a small spiraling came, she felt endangered, but also knew that with how much firepower she had on her, it wouldn't be much of a problem... Unless there were two assassins. Shaking that thought from her head, Emmaryys leaned the rifle she carried onto the night table that sat next to the bed, and began to at least take off the leather corset and collar, as long as it took to put on, it felt even harder to remove all the gear she carried. As the corset came off, the pain in her back flared even worse for a few moments, while not deep enough to be anything major, it still took the breath from Emmaryys. Disrobing further, she stood, looking at herself in with the steel mirror again, in just a cream gown now, all of the frill, bronze, and leather now were cast to the floor, after being properly folded, of course.

Having felt no need to retire to bed yet, Emmaryys took out both the flintlock pistols from their hidden holsters, a routine check came with them, as the woman took aim, ensuring the hammer stall was in, she held aim, and pulled the trigger. Ka-click. The hammer fell, though struck the hammer stall, which kept the flint from striking any sparks into the gunpowder, as that'd end in a long explanation as to why she decided to open fire within the Inn room. Changing pistols, she repeated the action, with a simple ka-click, everything was in working order, minus the bullet actually firing, which was intentional. After those checks were done, Emmaryys would sit down on her bed, taking up one of the many books she oft packed on long journeys, and began to read for hours, until she would eventually fall asleep.

--

After what felt like mere minutes of sleep, Emmaryys woke to the sounds of heavy thumping, followed by even harder thuds, quite possibly of one hitting the ground were heard through the wall. This woke Emmaryys into a panic, as she scrambled to find one of the flintlock pistols, and began to aim at the door, hearing more footfalls from the hall. Could someone be attacking her? Where were her retainers? Weren't they in the room next door? If they're dead, it means that Emmaryys was right, the Tsuyoshi clan was coming to kill her at Nakao's request. With those thoughts, she heard the footfalls pass her door, and presumably down the stairs. It took her a moment to realize it, that she wasn't in a deadly situation, though the sounds of a fight seem to have continued now sounding like more people were involved, what would she be if she didn't protect her retainers? Mustering up what courage she could, Emmaryys grabbed a small satchel of ammunition for her pistol, and soon left her room, moving over to the other doorway, as the door was ajar, looking through, there were people on the ground, with a shattered window, and from how the furniture were, there was an apparent fight.

Moving past the possibly dead bodies, Emmaryys rushed to the window, looking for anyone running along the moonlit streets... Nothing. Next came the bodies, that were breathing, it was faint, but Emmaryys could hear it, a quick check at the two women's necks showed a pulse, they're alive. Now what? That question echoed through her mind as she began to gently shake one of the women, in an attempt to wake them up from whatever state of unconsciousness they had, as the panic set in the back of Emmaryys' mind, these weren't her retainers, but what had she gotten herself involved with? What explanation would she give to a guard not only for her weapon, but why these two women are unconscious on the ground.

But she had to do something....
 
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Darkness. Pure darkness and silence were all that was felt as Aetrius laid unconscious on the ground. The last thing she remembered was the back of her head being forcibly picked up from a strong and massive hand that almost fully enveloped her head, slamming her face into the hardwooden floor beneath her, rendering her unconscious. The last thing she remembered was fighting for her life as she tried to stop Niils from being captured. The man that had caused so much trouble and chaos for them. The man that had the former Queen of Treveilia murdered in cold blood so he could take control of the throne and rule with a twisted and darkened heart. The man, that if he escaped, and got away with it all, he'd have them all killed and rule this country into the ground.

Niils couldn't get away, they needed him alive and safe as long until Kyero and Lonan returned with Josephine. They couldn't afford to let him escape, they couldn't...Suddenly her mind rewired itself, a small spark finding itself being reignited as her eyes suddenly flickered open, two golden orbs snapping open as her consciousness finally returned to her. A sharp and small inhale escaped her lips as the air finally filled her lungs, finding herself being able to breathe again as she slowly regained her thoughts, recollecting what happened. It took a few minutes for her to remember, but once it hit her, it hit her hard. As if the old, ancient stone blocks of the houses back in Shaharan came crashing down on her instantly. The reality of the situation finally hit her. They had been attacked while she was interrogating Niils, the assassin easily outfought them, rendering both her and Kieran helpless and beaten to a pulp. Two Shaharan warriors that were raised at birth to fight. They were both highly skilled fighters, Aetrius being the natural-born fighter out of the two. But it still didn't change anything. This assassin, he was too strong and quick, abnormally so, and he easily beat them. And that fact didn't mix well with her fear and anxiety she had already been feeling.

Finally Aetrius remembered that Kieran was with her, snapping her attention to the other woman that laid across the floor in a crumpled mess on the floor, a small puddle of blood was under her head. Panic struck her as she saw the wound on Kieran's head, the amount of blood alone caused immense panic and fear to fill her. She quickly tied a part of cloth around her head to help stop the bleeding as she tried to think of what to do, "Kie, you gotta stay with me, okay? Y-you'll be okay, I promise." she spoke softly as she gently kissed her sister's forehead, gently propping her up against the wall. As Aetrius stayed crouched with her back against the side of the room with the door, it finally hit her. The presence of eyes looking at her. It was an all too familiar feeling, whoever was with them, their gaze was boring holes into the back of her skull, a paing of anxiety filled her for a moment, until she slowly turned around to see who was with them.

The figure stood across the room from her. She was young, long brown hair that cascaded down from her shoulders, a rather innocent-looking face, pale skin, and dark emerald eyes stared her down. Aetrius' initial reaction was to reach for her weapon that was usually by her side at her hip, but her hand fell flat as there was nothing there. In the fight she had lost the hold of her weapon, seeing it by the door across the room, behind the stranger. Aetrius would normally engage in a fight, but something felt off about this person, she didn't have the feeling of malice or possessing the intent of fighting her. What she did notice was the firearm by her side, something she had seen a million times in her travels, as well as having her own flintlock pistols. Aetrius silently examined the stranger, before she decided to speak in a low and soft town, her voice holding obvious pain as the reality of how badly her body was hurting her finally hit her. "This isn't what it looks like, I swear to you.." she croaked, grasping her stomach as the pain of the wound on her midsection hit her the most, she'd need to tend to that, eventually.

Her golden eyes quickly went from looking back to Kieran, to the other woman as she spoke again, "M-my sister, the one over there against the wall needs tending to. She has a bad head injury, and...I don't know if she'll make it...Can you please get some help? I promise all will be explained after this, I just...I can't lose her, you understand?" she insisted, her Shaharan accent making itself known as she spoke. Quickly her mind went to worrying about Linde, if she was okay and if the assassin went after her. Aetrius needed to find out, and she had to check on her, even though she knew she should stay with Kieran, she needed to check on Linde. Aetrius walked passed the stranger as well as she could, making her way down the hallway into the bedroom where Linde was, ignoring all the soreness and pain her body was experiencing, she needed to know if Linde was alright, she had to have some peace of mind at least, even if she and Kieran were in far worse of shape than Linde was...
 
ZAGAROTH DANYELL ​

With the new information in hand, Zagaroth headed towards the castle, avoiding main roads and staying in the shadows of small paths between houses as much as he could. His hand reached the scarf in his neck to pull it up better to cover his face with a hood if his cloak. The city was far from what he was used to back home. His eyes scanned the city, learning it's paths and layout. He kept his eyes open for quick escape routes and beggars. With few coins to give them, they could be valuable information sources.

As the man kept going on his morning stroll he happened to come across a market place. Quickly sliding into another cover, he took in the scene: vendors and merchants setting up their stalls for the day as people would be soon waking up and come buy their wares: clothing, fishing supplies, jewelry made from coral - nothing that interested him. A large water fountain with what he could only assume was statue of one of the goddesses of Triveila and a shrine for her. The smell of fish and seafood lingered in the air. Zagaroth reminded himself to come back later and steal some food, his supply was nearly empty after the long travel. He knew he couldn't stop for long, but his eyes searched any familiar faces from the night before. It was a good possibility that the ones being actual merchants would be here this morning. There wasn't many carts from other countries and indeed he spotted the weapon seller yawning as this opened his chests to display his wares.

With nothing suspicious drawing his attention, Zagaroth continued on his way to the castle. He would have to find a good hiding spot to observe things from. Preferably somewhere high as people didn't tend to look above their heads. But not too high as he would still have to hear the people talking - the Veilbrandian accent was still his best bet. Following the guards advice it didn't take long until he was at his destination. He leaned against a wall, gazing the area. The gates were guarded as he had expected and couple guards were strolling nearby. Zagaroth rose his eyes up to the roofs. He didn't see any movement, so he would be able to climb up and hopefully not be noticed. But behind the roofs he spotted something else - a water tower. It'd be higher and offer larger cover from sides. Zag evaluated the best strategy and after a while made his way closer to the tower. Only a few people were in the area, he would be able to wait for empty moment and climb up. And it wasn't too high to prevent him from listening as long as the messenger wouldn't appear in the middle of the busiest hours with a lot of noise.

As he got up, he made sure to stay in a spot where he was hidden from guards. It'd be a waiting game now.
 
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With a flurry of action, suddenly the red-haired woman shot up from a deep unconsciousness, and jarring the noble attending her back, scrambling to her feet, her emerald hues stay placed on the woman, firearm still in hand as she watched her tend to the other woman named "Kie" for a moment, mumbling something to her. Then slowly turning to the noblewoman, who felt the shiver of eyes gazing at what felt like every inch of the young noble, before reaching for the sheath at her hip, in response a show of arms was given, as the firearm was raised, taking a fearfully shaking aim at the woman, before words were given, "This isn't what it looks like, I swear to you.." Her accent felt familiar, despite her appearance suggesting she was from Sharahan, it was a branch from how Emmaryys spoke, though much more rough around the edges phonetically, in comparison to the lighter sounds of her own voice. But that was moved aside when the woman moved before the stunned noblewoman could even come with any response. The red-haired woman glanced from the similar looking woman, who was now propped against the wall then to Emmaryys, "M-my sister, the one over there against the wall needs tending to. She has a bad head injury, and...I don't know if she'll make it...Can you please get some help? I promise all will be explained after this, I just...I can't lose her, you understand?" And before even a nod was given, she hurried along into the hall, presumably to check on her other friends, leaving Emmaryys with someone who very well could have the cranial function of a potted plant for all she knew. A few things were certain, there was a lot of blood on the floor, there was a fight where these two were on the losing end of things, and Emmaryys was unsure of what she could even do. In her own thoughts, the silence felt suffocating, with each passing second feeling to be an eternity. It took what she could guess was about fifteen seconds to do something, something more than standing there, loaded gun in hand, and look like a buffoon.

That was when she ran to the hall, her retainers' room were not next to hers, but across the hall, aligning the door with her room's door. Reaching the door, at first she attempted to knock, but momentum had other plans. Stumbling over her own panicked feet, she hit the heavy door with a loud THUD, almost to the sound of a sack of potatoes being dropped onto the floor, it stunned her for a moment, as she slumped to the ground slightly, leaning on the door frame until just before the door was opened, as an exhausted sounding woman opened the door, pinching the bridge of her nose, wiping away the sleep from her eyes, which when opened were the same colour as the blue sky, hanging loosely around her face and over her shoulders was long, platinum blonde hair, which curved and waved much to the liking of Emmaryys, before resting where her hips began, adorning her frail body was a simple nightgown, much to the tone of what Emmaryys wore, instead, it was plain white, she addressed the woman who so rudely woke her quickly, though with the respect one would see from a servant of sorts, "Is.. Something the matter, Lady Emmaryys? At least enough to wake the inn at this hour...?" Her words were strained, almost as if she had to force them out from the exhaustion. Yet, the frantic Emmaryys simply just took the woman's wrist and began pulling her over to the other room, much to the protest of the other woman, "H-hey! What are you doing?!" Despite her small protest, the blonde woman was pulled along into the room. There was a response finally from the noblewoman,

"This woman here is hurt, she needs help. Mila, I ask, please do what you can--"

"What on earth happened in here--"

"I'll explain later, when I've a full explanation, but please--"

"Oh-ho no. You can explain this, as I was told that--"

"Mila, I am aware what my father has said."

"Then you should--"

"Father is not here. And if I must, I will make my request an order from the Marchioness, help this woman, Mila, as soon as I've the full story, I will fill you in." As those words lingered in the air, a small grumble came over the woman named Mila, who soon lit a candle, and spoke once again,

"Lady Emmaryys, help me move her to the bed, I'll take a look there." Having felt like she won, Emmaryys helped lift the dead weight of the unconscious woman, before Mila left for a brief moment, before returning to the room with a large bag, setting it on the table next to the bed, the loud thump sounded as if Emmaryys had set one of her guns onto the desk, in the meantime, the noblewoman closed what remained of the curtains and window, less eyes in, the better. Next was helping Mila with the care, which Emmaryys was abhorrent at doing, mostly what she would do was hand things to the much more experienced in this matter. Though Mila spoke of the injuries, "It looks like her skull is relatively unharmed, though she's a nasty wound there. Most we can do is clean it and keep it covered. Though she may be disoriented greatly upon awakening... As such, Lady Emmaryys, you're to not allow her to get up under any circumstances." With those words spoken, Mila took up a cloth, and began cleaning the blood from the back of the red-haired woman, making sure the wound was cleaned of any dirt and debris before beginning with the bandaging. Taking out a salve, she began to touch the edges of the injury, in an attempt to clean before bandaging the woman's head, wrapping the white cloth a dozen times at least to cover the wound, before cleaning her hands on the alcohol she carried with, "That's the most I'll be able to do without knowing more, let the woman rest, and in turn. Please let me rest, Lady Emmaryys, you know Kathrine is more of a headache than Lord Alfric..." With those words, Mila took her bag and left once more, with the sound of the latch heard to the other room.

This left Emmaryys and an unknown unconscious woman alone, in silence... Emmaryys wasn't having it. Soon she returned to her room, gathering her clothes, and doing a quick change before returning, fully armed and ready for if the fight has a second round, all the while waiting for the crimson-haired woman to return....

All she could do, was wait....
 
Traveling the long and lonely roads was bad enough. Doing so while recovering from serious injuries and carrying an extra passenger was even worse. To compound matters further, even with his ability to utilize his black aura to expedite his own speed to keep up with Hawk, his injuries forced him to stop more frequently than he would have liked. And even more so to the chagrin of Lonan and Hawk.

It was night. Come tomorrow, they would see the city on the horizon. Almost there. But first, time to rest.

Kyero sat with his shirt off and back to the warmth of the fire they started to let the heat ease the tension in the muscles in his back. The crossbow bolt wounds were still not healing well, and all the traveling and keeping up with Hawk wasn’t helping the matter. Anything he could do to loosen them up was a help.

Lonán rode, keeping sure Kyero wasn’t far behind, and Josephine held on as Hawk trotted down the road, not breaking to a full gallop when the Stallion noticed Kyero wasn’t catching up the way the horse, or it’s master preferred. Lonán shrugged, assuming Kyero was sore and just resting himself for a moment or two. But they had a deadline to meet.

The Deadline was closing in fast. Lonán hoped they’d find a way to heal Josephine before it came to pass. All he could do was pay attention to the road. But decided it’d be best to stop for the night so that Hawk would rest and try to get Josephine to get some rest. He would dismount and help Josephine to do so. “Come Miss Dezantro, we need to rest for the night.” He said, as he began to check his own injuries, his leg and shoulders began to feel sore, and the cuts of his face was itching.

”Damn it all...such a Pain” he thought.

Kyero sat quietly, eyes closed, as Lonan went about helping Josephine off of Hawk. Most of the time, all she did during the journey was stare straight ahead with the dead man’s gaze. Neither confirming nor denying the presence of anything in front of her. When Lonan helped her down, she had to be lifted off because she wouldn’t move on her own.

Kyero glanced over his shoulder as Lonan carefully brought her down and helped her sit down. He glanced at her face and her eyes, taking in the look she was giving, and closed his eyes again and turned away. Meanwhile, as Josephine sat down and stared at the fire, she slowly looked away from it to the darkness of the woods nearby.

Lonán observed her behavior, and mentally sighed. No luck in getting to her to talk again, which caused the Saharan some dismay, yet he did not show it. He began to check his equipment and looked at the state of his sword. He frowned visibly at the chipped edges, and the broken point. He could swear that the scuffle probably caused several cracks that might lead to more chipping, or worse, breaking. The proverbial wheels were turning in his forge trained head.

”My blade needs repairs, or a replacing. I’ll worry about it when all this is over. If anything, I’ll find a weapon seller at Her’Thall, or even in Cre’est if need be if the wait must be that long.” he thought. He then observed Josephine for a Time, watching her gaze turn from the fire and into the woods nearby. He blinked a few times, wondering what would draw her gaze to the darkness of the forest.

He did not know for sure. But if any wild animals came suspiciously near with ill intent, he was sure to give them just as much a fair warning shot as the rest of any possible threat. For now, he had to think of a way to make her get some sleep. He put a hand on his chin, in deep thought at that.

The three of them sat in silence for a long time. Kyero had since begun meditating while Lonan thought about whatever he was thinking about, and Josephine continued gazing into the woods. A tiny flash of light caught her eye, but vanished in an instant. In her current state, nothing was registering. She saw it happen, but didn’t really process it or react accordingly. Her fight or flight reactions had shut down.

Kyero, however, had heard a noise in the same direction and opened his eyes. The red glow shone brightly as he glared into the darkness. Everything within that was invisible to Lonan was near perfectly visible to his eyes, and as he continued glaring, he finally caught sight of what she had seen and his body instantly tensed.

”Lonan… Get your crossbow.” He whispered.

Lonán, at hearing Kyero’s warning, pulled out his crossbow and loaded a bolt. He moved protectively to shield Josephine as he began looking around. He didn’t know what it was both She and Kyero were eying but it was certainly nothing good. Did more trouble follow them? Was it Moraello’s surviving Soldiers gaining courage enough to pursue and attack them?

“Kyero, what the hell am I looking for?” He asked, hesitatingly, unsure of what he was doing. “Give me a signal, or a direction to shoot, anything.”

Kyero slowly stood up, keeping his eyes on the woods ahead.

”Just keep it up and pointed where I’m looking. Keep your voice low, and don’t make any sudden movements.” He whispered, beckoning Lonan closer to him.

”It’s a Yoran Leopard. About half the size of Hawk, with claws as long as your hand.” He whispered.

”Just keep still and stand as tall as you can.” He said, forcing himself to rise to his full height.

Lonán did as instructed and slowly made his way to Kyero. When he heard what it was Lonán felt scared for Hawk for a moment, however he kept his Crossbow pointed towards where Kyero’s gaze was. He knew there was predators, but why did this one decide to try and make one of them their next meal? Always a question he asked himself if a Predator seemed to stalk him and his Uncle one their hunting trips.

“So, what’s the plan the. Kyero?” He whispered towards him, keeping his aim concentrated and standing as tall as possible. Would they be able to scare it off? That’d be the best case scenario. His injuries weren’t like Kyero’s but he was in no mood to try and make a trophy out of a Yoran Leapord. Kyero mentioned there claws being the size of his hands, which meant this thing would potentially cut them to ribbons if they weren’t careful.

So he hoped they were careful.

”It’s sizing us up.” Kyero replied quietly.

”Just keep still and stand tall. If it doesn’t move along on its own, then let it come close enough for the light of the fire to reflect off its eyes. Once you can see them, it will be too close to avoid a bolt. Your target is between the eyes. Understood?“

Lonán nodded once, acknowledging Kyero’s instructions, slowly beginning to let his courage keep himself standing tall and still, crossbow aiming in the direction and waiting patiently for the moment of truth. If it left, all the better. If it did not, well, Lonán only had one shot, and prayed to Heresta he wouldn’t miss. Lonán began to slow his breathing down, to keep himself calm and steady his grip on his crossbow, much like his Uncle taught him when hunting.

”Aim small, Miss Small.” he thought calmly, ”Heresta let me hit the mark.”

Growling slowly began to fill the night air as the Leopard inched closer and closer to camp. It could smell the blood seeping from their wounds and staining their clothing. And a wounded animal is always fair game in the wilds.

However, the leopard slowly began to back down. And in the night Kyero could see it backing away in a manner which had him greatly concerned.

”Lonan… Don’t move.” He whispered.

Kyero slowly turned his head and torso, grimacing against the pain in his back as he turned far enough to see behind them. And in the darkness of the woods on the opposite side of the clearing, Kyero saw another massive predator lurking in the brush.

”Turn around very, very slowly… And aim higher.” He whispered.

Kyero turned around all the way to face the new presence in the dark and slowly leaned down to pick up his daggers. And as he came back to full height, he forced his eyes to glow more brightly and his black aura began to form around his feet.

Lonán was prepared to fire at the leopard when it inched closed but then began to back away. At first Lonán thought he intimidated it, but Kyero’s warning told him otherwise. Lonán slowly turned around, shifting his aim higher as he went. He remembered another saying from his uncle when hunting, or in this case, fishing. He didn’t think it’d apply to the wild’s but the more you know.

”There’s always a bigger fish.” Lonán thought, trying to keep his breathing calm and slow as his aim moved higher to aim at whatever was lurking in the woods. Worrisome yes, but he had no choice but to do so or they would all become this new arrival’s dinner. He had to help Protect Josephine, as well as Hawk!

Kyero’s aura slither up to knee level, and his eyes were now as bright as they possibly could be and lighting the area in front of him like two luminous lanterns. The red light reflected off the black fur of the creature hidden in the darkness, revealing a behemoth of a beast the likes of which Lonan had likely never seen before… The dreaded Gil Bear.

Even standing on all fours, the creature stood at least nine feet tall with jaws large enough to engulf Hawk’s entire head and maybe even half his neck along with it. The body was close to three tons of solid muscle, and its eyes shone like those of a feline against the light of Kyero’s eyes.

”Lonan… Take aim at one of its eyes, but don’t fire. Finger off the trigger unless I say so, got it?” Kyero whispered.

The Gil Bear let out a huff and took a step forward. And despite its size its steps were soft which explained why it was able to sneak up on them. The tip of its snout broke the tree line, and its face partially emerged from the darkness. It was calm at the moment. Taking in the sights and smells of the clearing and the creatures it had found within.

A single soft growl emerged, but didn’t indicate any kind of attack or aggression… Yet.

Lonán felt afraid for a minute when he began to register the Ursine’s size. He kept his crossbow trained on the spot Kyero said to aim, and kept the finger off the trigger. It seemed to not want to attack them yet, but Lonán took slow deep breaths, his mind In hunter mode as he marveled at the animal carefully.

This creature would indeed cause serious harm if he attacked. Especially since Kyero told him to hold his fire, he hoped he didn’t have to shoot this amazing, yet terrifying bear in the eye. He hoped the bear would understand that they were not food to mess with if he wanted to remain unscathed. But worst case scenario, if he was forced to fire, he would fire.

He had people to protect after all.

The bear inched closer, its head breaking the tree line. A few sniffs, and its lower lip dropped in the classic droop most bear species were infamous for. Drool dripped from the tip of its lip to the grass below as it swayed its head side to side, sniffing the air.

Another growl. Another step into the clearing.

Kyero's aura slowly crept higher, up to waist-level now as he continued to hold a hard gaze at the bear. Normally, he wouldn't make eye contact. But in this case, he had to. Gil Bears were infamous as a rare case among ursine species in that they saw no threat in a stare down. In fact, it was broken eye contact that seemed to trigger them into hunting mode more often than not. Many stories about hunters or travelers staring the Gil Bear down until it walked away seemed to paint the picture that the greater the eye contact, the less interested in you it was.

Kyero's eyes remained fixed, hard, on the bear's own every time it looked his way. And as it stepped out fully into the clearing it stood up on its hind legs... And Kyero's head tilted straight back as he beheld the full height of the beast at just shy of sixteen feet. It came back down, and the thud that resulted sent a tiny tremor through the ground.

Kyero's aura crept higher, chest-level, and he held his gaze unflinchingly as the bear continued to look between the two men and Josephine who was now staring in the bear's direction as well, still with a dead man's gaze neither registering nor ignoring what she was facing.

Lonán kept his eyes firmly at the bear, crossbow at the ready as he kept his courage. This was indeed a large and imposing creature. Surely this Bear must be the Apex Predator, for it’s size definitely spooked the Leopard. Lonán could only stare with not just a hard stare, but one of respect as it stood up then came back down with a small thud that caused a small tremor.

Yes, he had to respect, fear, and commend such a creature. But It took all Lonán had to not avert his gaze from the bear. He almost thought the bear had an intelligence in it’s examination of the group. Lonán still kept his crossbow ready to fire if it started to turn aggressive. All Lonán had to do, was hope the Bear lost interest in them.

”I must not fear.. By Heresta’s grace I must not fear.” he thought quietly.

The bear continued to glance back and forth between the three faces before resting its gaze on Lonan. And as it gazed at him, it took another step forward. A few huffs and a grunt and a growl, and it was a mere five meters away. One good leap and it would be on top of Lonan before he could do anything about it.

Kyero's aura now engulfed his entire body, the red shine of his eyes the only thing visible within as the bear looked at him. The tiniest lowering of its head and shoulders could be seen as it took a step backwards. But then, as if by magic, the bear suddenly jerked its head upwards with a slight tilt. Its eyes half-rolled into the back of their sockets, and its head began twitching continuously along with numerous grunts cut short with each twitch. The bear then stopped twitching, and became unsteady on its feet.

However... Despite its unsteadiness and the fact its head was lazily rolling this way and that, no matter how far its head rolled or turned, its pupils remained squarely locked on Lonan. And with the more extreme head turns, the whites of its eyes could be seen rolling over the edges before disappearing as its head straightened out.

The bear then charged forward at Lonan, stopping just shy of him and opening its mouth unleashing a loud roar which pushed enough air out of its mouth to throw Lonan's hair back. The bear's mouth closed, and its head continued lazily rolling this way and that as it backed away a few steps to its original position.

And then, it stopped. Shaking its head, the bear looked around before eyeing the three faces again. It blinked a few times, shaking its head once more for good measure, and turned around, disappearing into the trees.

Kyero's aura vanished and the glow in his eyes receded to normal levels.

"... What was that?" He whispered, more to himself than anyone else as his body began trembling.

Lonán stood very still, dumbfounded by the exact same thing that happened. Did the Bear have some sort of dazed fit? Why did the bear roar straight in his face? “Honestly Kyero,” he whispered back with a slight hint of fear mixed in relief he wasn’t bitten clean in half, “I have no idea. Best thing? It decided we weren’t a threat.” He then walked back and sat near Josephine, his right hand quaking from anxiety as he rubbed it quietly.

“That was the single most closest and scariest moment of my life.” he declared mentally. The Bear was extremely close, maybe to judge him a lot close and personal, before potentially having him as a meal. He didn’t want to think any further on it. He had to calm down and then try to make Josephine get some sleep. Then he too would try and rest himself and try to heal from his wounds as best he can before Linde can take a look at him.

He hoped they were doing okay at least.

Kyero stood still as his brain tried to pricess what had just happened. Because when the bear began freaking out, it felt like...

"... Get some rest, Lonan." he muttered quietly.

As he sat down near the fireplace, Kyero looked at his hands gripping his daggers and... Trembling. He closed his eyes and forced himself to rationalize the trembling. It's cold out and he had no shirt. They just had a close encounter with death, again. Or maybe he just hadn't eaten enough lately and his body was shaking feom lack of nutrients. One of those things. It had to be.

Kyero took a deep breath and exhaled on a sigh as he remained on watch for the night...
 
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