Showdown (Chyril 26th Late MT) - Open

[Grey Wolf]

A flicker after Reise report, a shadow fell over the entrance to the alcove they were in. Smataggio tensed reaching for a stiletto hidden in his sleeve, but a moment later he relaxed visibly. The man who had the crossbow pointed in Reise's face a burn ago, backed into the alcove, holding the crossbow at the ready. "The girl is right, signore Smataggio. But they are also in the alleys. Grey clothes. Professionals. Converging towards the White Plinth Square. I counted four in the alleys."

Smataggio nodded silently, chewing his lips nervously for a moment, his eyes on the small patch of light over the guards left shoulder. "Giorgio, I need you to lead us. Away from the square. Signorina Silverskye, I think it would be wise for us to leave. Something nasty is about to take place and I think neither of us is the actual target. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So, are you coming with us?" Giorgio waited a flicker after her response, both he and Smataggio slipping out of the alcove and to the left, keeping about half a dozen paces of room between them.

Paul held his bow ready, watching his target with calmness born out of experience. He had done this before, though never in the city and never outside of the battle. But, it needed to be done. The bastard tried to kill the Scoutmaster and he had killed Caesar Anochrim. Did not even have the guts to do it himself, but sent someone in his stead. He watched the other two shooters rise, drawing his bowstring back i perfect harmony with them. A deep breath. Slow exhale. He sighted down the shaft of the arrow, the bowstring nearly touching his cheek and then. "STOP!" He found he could not move a muscle, stuck in that pose for a several long flickers.

Everything happened in a flash. Literally. One moment they stood still and then both bodyguards sprang into motion. Both reached into their cloaks, though the items they produces were very different. As was the price they paid. The left one drew out a long tube and raised his arm up over his head, only to crumple to the ground like a rag doll as an arrow lodged itself in his chest, the feathers vibrating in the aftermath. He did manage to fire off a projectile of sorts into the air, the tube firing something that left a trail of black smoke as it whistled angrily up. After only several flickers it reached an apex of its flight, bursting into a billowing black cloud that would be visible from anywhere in the city. The bodyguard though would never live to see it, dying before he hit the ground.

Even as his comrade crumpled down, the other man draw a dagger out of his cloak and in the same motion sent it flying towards the scarred woman before him. His throw made him step forward, his next placing him between Silk and the spot where the arrows came, though he was to late to prevent one from striking the Secretary. With an angry hiss, he resisted the pain, the arrow passing through his calf neatly, the tip slick with his blood. Manyana whirled around, throwing off the cloak she wore, but she too got struck, the assassin's dagger lodging itself in her upper thigh, just bellow her buttock. The cloak fell, covering a few onlookers, and as she turned to face them, her form became blurry, her form wavering as seen through a summer's heat.

Seeing his leader and friend struck, made Paul snap out of his trancelike state, though the delay cost his dearly. The effort of holding the bow drawn made his arm shake from weariness, the arrow sent wide, lodging itself in the signpost just bellow a black raven that sat there. The bird flew up as the square exploded in panic, the people screaming and running around in panic. For a flicker he lost sight of both Silk and Manyana, even as he drew the second arrow and placed it upon the string. The black could loomed ominously above their heads, the wind slowly spreading it, sending black wisps towards the harbor.

[Rhoddin]

It was all happening quickly around the young bard. He saw one bodyguard go down, an arrow lodged in his chest, and the second was struck by an arrow. It seemed that the man in black, Silk seemed to be his name at least according to the woman in the square it was his name, had not been struck, but this would only be a temporary situation if he wasn't very careful.

The black cloud above him seemed to filling the air in a very unnatural, and not very pleasant manner, something about it seemed wrong, and Rhoddin wasn't convinced he wanted to be around when it settled over the markets, but still he had made his bed and now it was time lie in it. If nothing else it was about to make shooting arrows from rooftops very difficult.

Moving forward, Rhoddin sort to offer what support he could to Silk, looking to spot potential trouble before it was heaped onto the man in black as he stood in the square.

[Anora Frollie]

It happened too quickly for Anora, her natural instinct to flee when in the middle of a fight fought with her urge to stay with Silk, the man she knew as Varesh. He was the only true friend, she thought, that she had here. So, when chaos broke out, she found herself paralyzed for a moment. Until she saw him hit. "NO!," she cried out, moving towards him, trying to pull him out of danger, though it would be hard, her body so much smaller than his.

[Guest]

A hiss of pain escaped his lips as the arrow struck him.

Oh you will pay for that! You have no idea how you will pay!

Through gritted teeth he looked down and examined the wound. The arrow was stuck cleanly through his leg, he could already feel the blood pooling in his boot.

Chaos erupted around him. Screaming citizens ran in every direction.

At least the beacon is away. My brothers will be coming and the gutters will run red!

He reached down and grabbed hold of the arrowhead. The pain that lanced through his leg was nearly unbearable, and a lesser man would have fainted dead away, but the Secretary was no lesser man. With his other hand he steadied his calf with a firm hand, and with a swift, sharp motion, he broke the arrowhead off. He winced and blinked at the sharp stab of agony that went through him, and for a flicker or two, his vision swam in a red haze.

With the anger starting to rise in him he yanked the fletched end of the arrow out in a gout of blood and pain.

I'll have her ugly little head on a plate by morning...

A quick tie of his scarf over the wound tightly would help get him out and away for now. Then a sharp curved knife was in his fist for any who got too close.

"Come!" He hissed insistently at no one in particular as he limped away and towards one of his dozens of safe houses.

[Rhoddin]

Rhoddin noticed that Silk leant down and yanked something from his leg, even as the young bard realised he had been struck by an errant arrow. Damn, by the seven hells I thought they had missed him! Obviously there were several assassins and Rhoddin had only put one off.

Still, it was better that it could have been...

Even as these random thoughts cascaded through his mind Rhoddin heard Silk hiss the command to come, and he hesitated for but a flicker before following the man dressed in black as he hobbled off.

Rhoddin hung back somewhat, keeping his eyes on the rooftops, all his senses both physical and etheric were alert as he cautiously and slowly followed the rather bloody footsteps of the one called Silk.

I wonder where that Raven has gone, nice bird that one...

[Reise Silverskye]

It wasn't a very hard choice for Reise to make. She could either stay here and see what happened - and very possibly get killed, over something that she could really care less about, at least at this moment - or she could slip away with Smataggio and his companion, and stand a good chance of getting away unharmed. Now that she thought about it, that wasn't really a choice at all.

"Right behind you," she muttered as the other two men left the alcove and started down the alley.

She saw the two men spacing themselves out; she didn't feel comfortable staying that far away from Smataggio, but she still kept about half as much distance between herself and him. She presumed it was to make themselves harder targets, which was just fine with her, but she didn't want to risk getting separated from them either, at least not until it was safe to do so. She didn't know this city yet, and she knew that to get lost was very likely to stumble into trouble... possibly of the deadly sort.

No indeed, there was really no choice at all...

[Lir Calysta Markby]

Lir had no idea at this point what to do. She watched as the arrow flew and embedded itself in one of the bodyguard's chest. Another one ended up in the man named Silk's leg. The dead bodyguard had done something that made her wonder for a split second what was going to go down as she watched Silk hobble away. It was her chance to try something.

Waiting for the closest time between her and Silk, she tried her best to close up some of the difference, dodging the scared herd of people as they screamed and tried to run for some sort of cover. The healer on the other hand put on her best worried face as she heard Silk hiss out the word, "Come". Probably to the young man or the girl that he had by her side from before.

"Sir...are you all right, you really need to get looked at by a healer." She tried to approach in a wide enough berth so the official didn't attack and ask questions later. The dangerous looking knife always in view. "I can help you to where you are going and look to your wound." Making herself available to assist as a crutch or something more. It was definitely time to move forward and see where this avenue took her, if anything to get her out of this current situation.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir had spent the day trying to make his plans whole. He was making allies and making progress, but the true goal still seemed so far away. The priest had been lost in his thoughts when war seemed to break out before him. The smoke, screams, and panic reminded him of the vision he had seen about the Oneists destroying the Citadel. He knew that he was no warrior, but Pan was still with him. They still come for us, thinking our new Caesar makes us weak. Pan, hear my prayers and guide my feet, let me take the fight to them. Let me give you the Blood you have needed.

Vanir reached down into his boot, where a small knife was always hidden. He had never had to use it in such a way, yet a part of him always knew he would. The adhiel sprinted through the chaos to find the attackers, hoping to save those he couldn't before. The deaths of all his friends flooded his mind and gave him strength he never had before. However nothing could have prepared him for the actual scene.

Silk, the man he hates above all else, hobbling on an injured leg. Anora, his friend, lover, and student just an arm away from him. Others surrounding him, yet most did not seem to be bodyguards. The priest flipped the knife, holding it downwards so the blade ran even with his forearm, and let his green cloak hide it partially. He deftly approached the group and spoke in a deep, commanding voice.

"My name is Vanir Alfheim, head priest of Pan's Temple. The man you protect is a vile murderer. He tortured me in the dungeons of the palace, even though I had committed no crime, he tortured innocent women and children to get them to tell anything they might know, then he murdered some of my closest friends. He is responsible for the deaths of hundreds and has been commanded to die by the gods themselves. Release him to his justice, so their souls might find peace." The adhiel looked into Silk's eyes and spoke in a harsh voice. "By Pan's Blood, one of us will die today." Pan, give me your strength and I shall coat my knife with his blood. The murders of my brothers and sisters, your children shall be avenged this day. Give me the power to send Silk to the Nether where he belongs. Grant me this in your name.

[Anora Frollie]

Anora moved to Silk's side, ready to offer her small body as some sort of protection or strenght. The man with the loud voice (Rhoddin) was there too. Suddenly another woman showed up (Lir). It was so gods damned chaotic. How the hell was she supposed to be able to keep sight of the shooters and figure out where her mentor wanted her to go. At least the other woman was bigger, as was the man. They would make better shields than she would, and be able to help him move. In this sort of situation, size did matter.

She was looking for a break in the crowd, to help direct their little bunch towards when another voice broke from the crowd and caused her stomach to drop. Vanir. This is so many shades of fucked up, she thought as she found herself, for the first time, caught between loyalties. She had given her word to Vanir, but also to Silk. Oh, she was screwed, no matter which way you looked at it.

On one hand, Vanir had the archers and that creepy scarred woman on his side. They wanted Silk dead and were willing to try in broad daylight to bring him down. He was already wounded too. One bodyguard dead. The only thing protecting him was the other one and the people currently surrounding him. He was weakened, surrounded. On the other hand, Silk was SILK. The man was power. If she helped him, stayed in his good graces, she was set. She wouldn't have to worry about where she was going to sleep the next night. No more curling up under bridges and praying to wake up the next morning. No more petty theft. She could move on to a whole new bracket of crime. Besides, she and Vanir had sworn to keep their 'relationship' secret. If she sided with him now, it would reveal their secret and that could ruin everything (thus being the twisted logic of a thief).

With such a thought in her mind, she stayed by Silk's side. "Come on, let's get out of here. Madness seems to be the special of the day, with a side order of bloodlust. Not my cup of tea, I'm thinking," she said to those around her.

[Grey Wolf]

It was by pure luck that Vanir caught a glimpse of Silk, the dreaded Imperial Secretary weaving his way through the crowd as nimbly as possible given his injury. The removal of the arrow was a wise move, though the pain it brought along was hardly a pleasant distraction. The crowd panicked and soon the ground between Silk and Manyana was filled with people running this way and that, making it impossible for either side to quickly finish the other off. Rhoddin found himself stumbling as someone bumped into him from the side, the distraction proving to be a girl of perhaps sixteen yahren, an arrow lodged firmly in the base of her skull, her sapphire blue eyes wide open in shock, staring at him before the trampling crowd rolled her body over.

The archers up on the rooftops were no longer trying to hide, each of the trio having an arrow upon the string, though they were reluctant to fire into the crowd out of fear they might hit someone innocent. They lost sight of both Silk and Manyana, and had Lir Anora and Rhoddin been so close to the dark clad man, they too would have had little chance to follow him. It was to the right that the nearest safe house was, though how dangerous the road there would be was anybody's guess. The alley they had to reach was right across the square, and the bodyguard was already making his way there, deftly sidestepping the panicked people, as the crowd began to thin out. They had perhaps a dozen or so flickers before the archers would have a reasonably clear view of the small group, not to mention Manyana of whom there was no sight. The Scoutmaster may have been short, but she was a danger on an entirely different scale form anything else. Not many had escaped the death at the hands of Brotherhood agents as well as she had done a few months ago.

With the signal slowly dissipating in the sky, there would be no doubt that soon the streets would crawl with assassins as they came to their leader's assistance. Manyana had very little time if she was to kill Silk and vanish without trace, for if she lingered the number of dead would be staggering. Even now the bodyguard showed ruthless efficiency that made the Brotherhood so feared, clearing the path for his master and the unlikely companions that tried to attach themselves to him. Amidst the panic and chaos that reigned upon the square, a woman all but ran into him, halting a bare two feet away and screaming at the top of her lungs. She stood frozen, screaming her lungs out, right in the path that lead to the alley. He did not hesitate, a new dagger flashing in his arm, as the man launched himself forward. Ducking under her arm, he slashed at her throat, a few drops of blood that sprayed from her neck, spattering across Lir's face. The assassin did not pause to admire his handiwork, his shoulder hitting the woman's side, sending her aside, as he rushed forward towards the alley.

Vanir's voice was drowned in the screams and shouts of the crowd, but one person did hear him, and a flicker later he found a long dagger between his legs. The edge pressed upward, resting safely against his scrotum, only the thin fabric of his pants standing between him and a lovely new soprano voice. "Quit drawing attention to yourself, fool." The voice came from somewhere behind him, bearing a faint feminine edge, though a rasp made it hard to discern clearly. A curly haired head appeared by his left arm, the dagger pressing upward a bit more firmly to make sure he would not move. "You want him dead, you stay quiet and follow me." And then he was safe from the nasty would-be-castration-device, and the strange girl at his side rushed past him. Towards an alley on the other side of the square she moved, Vanir's eyes watering as Manyana's shape became blurred, shifting constantly as she weaved a way through the crowd.

Giorgio knew the streets well, his hunched frame weaving its way through the debris that littered the alleyways of Citadel. Smataggio was less certain in his steps, slipping on a piece of rotten tomato at one point, nearly collapsing into a pile of trash. Muttering a curse he leveled himself up, groaning as his hand went to the small of his back. His walk turned into a noticeable limp after a few steps the man obviously injured by his mishap. Giorgio vanished around the corner, Smataggio grunting and trying to catch up. Reise would have little trouble catching up with him, as the man kept slowing down, something terribly wrong with his leg.

[Rhoddin]

As the square exploded into more chaos, the young bard felt his arm jostled, and turned to see a young woman with amazing eyes crumple beneath the tide of humanity stampeding around the place. Even as his took in the death of such a young life, a sense of sadness swept through Rhoddin, he hadn't come to the Citadel to see young woman die, he had seen enough of that on Pan's Isle.

Even as he looked up, he saw another confront the man he now knew as silk. It seemed that even the elves had a thing against this dangerous man. Rhoddin struggled to hear what was being said, the elves voice drowned in the sounds of the square before him.

Not so sure he wanted to become part of this anymore Rhoddin didn't fight the tide of people that seemed to separate him from Silk and the others, rather he kept his eyes open, and allowed himself to be swept towards the edge of the square, seeking a quieter place to contemplate his next move. It seemed that the Citadel was as awash with intrigue and violence as Worlds Mouth had been.

By the seven hells, can't a man find in peace in this god forsaken world! Still even as his mind raged, the young man kept a sharp watch, both on the physical and etheric plane, and it was this close watch that enabled him to see an interchange between a now quite shaken elf, and the small scarred woman who had instigated the attack on Silk. Seems to have rattled that rather forthright elf she has... Rhoddin got the impression that the small woman was almost as dangerous as Silk.

finding a place with his back protected, the young bard watched, and waited...

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir had not really known what he expected after seeing Silk. The hatred that the old man caused in the priest blocked most logical thought, much like a pretty girl blocked common sense. He was not prepared for the blade placed against his most treasured gift. It would have been more relaxing placed against his throat or shoved through his back even. A small line of sweat formed on his brow as he listened to the old woman speak.

The thought of killing Silk overpowered his desire to get away from Manyana. A mere flicker of doubt and logic flooded his thoughts, before being washed away in bloodlust. The old anger of the adhiel took control of his senses as he darted off behind the ranger. He gripped his blade tightly and pictured slitting Silk's wrinkled throat with it, then wiping the blood off on the corpse's tailored clothes with a grin. This is the day we avenge your children.

[Lir Calysta Markby]

Caution, girl, caution. Choosing a side now will bring you above the radar... She watched as another died, her life essence spattered onto her face causing the healer to flinch a bit. Too close... Lir continued to follow and watching out for Silk, as Anora weaved through the dwindling crowd and Rhoddin hanging back a bit.

What have I gotten myself into? The thought flashed briefly through her mind and then she clenched her teeth into a firm expression and grinded forward. The assassin was amazing, knowing exactly where to hit his target, and to continue moving, like a well timed dance or a work of art. It was what she always wanted wasn't it? To kill, not to mend...

A violet eye continued to look around for any further attacks before they can find cover. She thought it was best not to ask if they were almost to their destination. Most people can figure that they were all running for their lives. Lir did what she could to protect the man dressed in black. Hopefully, he had tied the tourniquet tight enough and that she can quickly put some medicine on his wound to expedite the healing process. Of course, it was difficult to know if the man would even trust her long enough for any help, but a man of such import probably has a train of healers on hand.

[Reise Silverskye]

Reise winced as she watched Smataggio limping ahead of her. She could tell he was in a good deal of pain, that the seemingly inconsequential slip had probably pulled a muscle or twisted a joint. He wasn't going to be speeding up anytime soon.

Just leave him, her instincts whispered inside her head. Just leave him, he's going to slow you down. You can slip away into the streets just fine on your own now, no one will notice you... It was a very seductive temptation, and for a moment, she hesitated, torn between her options. But the more she thought about it, as much as she wanted to run, the more she realized that it would be a bad idea. Smataggio was now her handler, if not her employer. Abandoning him so quickly would not endear her to him.

She hissed unhappily, but then hurried to catch up with him. "Here," she said, taking his arm and putting it over her shoulders, trying to help him along. It wasn't much, but hopefuly, it would be better than just letting him hobble along. "Giorgio, slow down," she called ahead to the bodyguard, trying to keep her voice as low as possible.

[Guest]

Silk's blazing eyes looked down and to the side at Lir. Behind the fury, behind the unbidden promise of swift and terrible retribution was a hint of almost playfulness.

"Of course I'm well. I've endured far worse than this scratch. If you want to be useful, help make way through the crowd."

...And be sure to stand in the way of any more of that treacherous bitch's arrows...

"Towards the Ha'Penny Mermaid" The Secretary hissed.

...Just long enough for the others to arrive. Really Manyana, I would have thought you knew better than this... This was a fatal flaw in judgment, and one that will change things forever here...

He caught a flashing glimpse of the priest Vanir through the blur of the crowds.

... run away insect... just run away...

[Anora Frollie]

Death didn't disturb Anora, easily brushing past the bodies, both living and passed, moving to where Silk guided them. She had spent too much time with dead bodies to be scared by them. So long as they weren't in the dark, in a small space.

Ha'penny Mermaid? Oh, she knew the way there. Her times on the street was coming in handy. She followed the bodyguard, trying to dodge arrows as best as possible. She chuckled as he said he was fine, giving Silk a smile. "Oh yeah, fine and dandy, you are," she murmured, trying to hide her worry for the older man. She wanted to get him to the Mermaid and stitched up.

[Grey Wolf]

The dark clad man made his way to the alley, pausing at the corner, and glancing back, tensing for a flicker as Anora sped past his lithe form. Somehow he managed to slip a dagger into her hand, the handle wrapped in soft black leather, his fingers closing her hand around it. The blade was still red and wet from blood, and he pushed her past, whispering harshly. "Hurry up. I'll buy you time. Fourth house from the Mermaid away from the Gaol." It was a good ten burns on foot, and most of the way would take them through the twisting alleys and narrow passages between the houses. Still, it would not be too hard to get there, provided they did not run into trouble.

Rhoddin had a perfect view of the street, his back to the door, the entrance to the house raised a few steps, placing him nearly two feet above the ground. Silk and the others rushed to the alley, the scarred woman moving after them, flanked by the man who sought to confront Silk. They were a good twenty paces behind, a distance made much larger by the need to get past the crowd. Of the raven there was no sight, but his eyes picked out something else. Something he had seen before. An archer was on the roof opposite Rhoddin, rising up just that moment, drawing back the bowstring, having an unobstructed view of the alley. He was placed perfectly, in line with the narrow passage, able to send the arrow after the Silk and other.

It was clear why Manyana had been head of the Imperial Scouts for so long, the short woman weaving her way through the crowd, avoiding the people seemingly without effort. She slipped at one moment, twisting her body and bringing her feet down behind a body of a woman who lay face first on the ground. A pool of blood was spreading around her, and it was the bright red liquid that Manyana had slipped upon, her eyes on the mouth of the alley where the dark clad Silk's assassin barred the way for the two of them. The woman on the ground twitched, her fingers curling into a claw, but she did not try to get up.

Lir caught up with Silk, the man limping obviously, the wound he had tried to downplay so casually, obviously more serious than he was willing to show. She could see the fabric of his pants stick to his skin, the man leaving a trail of blood as he went, the red liquid dripping with each step he took. He seemed like he would be able to go for quite some time, but he would start growing tired soon, the loos of blood sure to take its toll. Unless they stopped and took a bit of time to get his wound treated a bit better he would be in trouble.

Smataggio did not even try to shake Reise off, the man leaning heaivly on the girl's shoulder with every other step he took. He whezzed with each step, inhaling sharply each time his right leg took his weight. Giorgio seemed to have rabbit's ears, pausing to let the two of them catch up, but not waiting to help Reise carry her handler. He turned right, and at that moment a figure leapt over the alley, though this time the man wore black. A dull thud followed and a body crashed down onto the cobbles before them, draped in grey. Spray of blood that fountained up from his chest as his back struck the ground covered barely missed the pair. There was fighting up on the roofs and Smataggio quickened his steps despite the pain.

[Rhoddin]

Rhoddin was in a quandary. He had heard and seen much that made little sense to him, it seemed he had thrown his lot in with a foul murderer, yet he had also seen the apparent victims of his crimes resort to public assassination, regardless of the cost to innocent bystanders. The young bard was caught between which group to help.

The sight of the archer brought his swirling mind back, although he wasn't sure he wanted part of Silks gang, he was equally sure that simply allowing him to be stuck with an arrow wasn't the right thing to do either.

Rhoddin centered himself as he had been trained, allowing his mind to be still as he viewed the flows of energy that surrounded him on the etheric plane. He quickly brought the strands of power he needed into himself fashioning what could best be described as a rope of energy, before infusing his voice with this energy. Looking directly at the archer, Rhoddin cast his command, simple by concise. "STOP!" He had found over time that simpler short statements carried power better than more complex constructions.

Now too see what would happen, the young man kept his wits about him, eyes peeled for friend and potential foe alike.

[Lir Calysta Markby]

Lir just nodded to Silk's comment of making a way through the crowd. With their backs to their would be attackers, she wanted to find some shelter from a sky full of arrows and such. She had no idea where the Ha'Penny Mermaid was but it seemed that the petite blond girl did.

Her senses sharpened for survival, she noticed the blond girl and the assassin talking before heading off down one alley. Then her gaze went to Silk not wanting to touch the man and offer him a crutch to move faster but jostling the leg didn't help him only encouraging the blood to flow more freely. Of course the faster they move the sooner they would hopefully get to a safe haven. "Sir, you may need to use a second tourniquet to stave the blood's flow or your strength with ebb away before we even get to safety." Lir said with careful concern and warning in her voice.

Ultimately, it was for Silk to decide but hopefully he would do it after the next turn off into another alley to prevent any archers from finding them. Her own eyes again looked about for any one coming at them, ready to throw them off balance and misdirect their physical energy to disarm them and keep running. If she had to, she would kill. In no way was she going to die before settling down in this place. No way she wanted to die before destroying her father's life.

[Anora Frollie]

Anora took the dagger handed her by the assassin, nodding resolutely as she listened to his directions. She knew the route well enough, her smaller frame making weaving in and out of people much easier. She grasped the bloody weapon tightly, ready to use it should she need to. She had never had to kill before, but her life might be on the line.

[Reise Silverskye]

Reise helped Smataggio as best as she could, determined to get both him and herself out of this mess in one piece. Damn my luck! she thought to herself over and over again. Damn it all to hell! No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, it seemed like everything was always going to hell around her. She wondered briefly if she'd ever get the chance to achieve her goals.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the body dropped into the street right in front of them, spraying blood. She gasped in surprise, simply staring at the unlucky person in shock for a moment before she managed to galvanize herself back into action. "Don't look, just keep going," she urged Smataggio quietly as she hurried him along after Giorgio. "Don't look up, don't look around, just mind your own business. We don't want to be a part of this, we're not witnesses, we're just common folk trying to get out of the way of something that doesn't concern us in any fashion." She wondered who she was trying to convincde more: the people that were fighting around them, Smataggio, or herself.

She kept half carrying, half dragging him along, knowing that if they slowed down or stopped out in the relative open like this, they could easily be killed just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If someone decided they didn't want witnesses to this...

"We need to find a place to get out of sight, someplace close," she whispered to him. "I don't know where Giorgio is going, but from the way you're sounding, I don't know that you're going to make it. Do you know anything around here where we can lay low for a bit? A friend's house, an inn? Hell, a stable would work. Come on, think!"

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir could not believe the ease in which the small woman moved through the crowd. He was not nearly as quick and graceful, struggling to keep up with her. The blood from the dying woman below spreading across the stone, but Vanir kept his eyes ahead. The priest was well out his element, yet his hatred kept him focused at the task at hand.

We are so close to our goal, Lord Pan. The bastard is within our reach, a mere burn from my blade twisting in throat. I want nothing more than to cut out his lying tongue and watch his eyes fade away, knowing I am the one who took his life. He is a menace, a blight on your hallowed name, and one I plan to erase forever. Guide my feet and my blade. All glory to your name, Pan.

[Grey Wolf]

OOC: My thanks go to Vanadius, who did a lovely job of posting for Silk. I'll be taking care of it from now. Thanks Dave.

"Later. We need to get away." Silk's voice showed the pressure he was under, the Imperial Secretary stifling a groan of pain as he hobbled along, following Anora trusting in the little alley rat to find the way. He knew that the Mermaid was a good ten burns away through the twisting alleys and side-streets of Citadel, but though the danger of ambush was considerable, they would be less exposed to the arches that Manyana had place don the rooftops. Besides he was hardly able to leap from rooftop to rooftop hobbling along as he did, but no other place he could think off would provide them with as much security as the old abandoned warehouse would. The place was well trapped and when they unfurled the beacon, his men would flock to it and make sure the Scouts paid dearly for their cowardly attack.

The alley stretched straight forward for only a dozen or so paces, turning a sharp right and for several long heartbeats their back were exposed to the archers upon the roofs behind them, but all three managed to make it to the somewhat more shielded alley without getting hit in the back by anything sharp. Silk did not pause there, hissing a short command for Anora. "Go. Don't stop. Daniel won't be able to hold them off for long." He paused to let Lir catch up with him and whispered before pushing off at a fast limp. "Watch your back, girl. Shout a warning and duck if you see someone. Hold up three fingers from behind the cover and if you hear a whistle it is a friend. let's go."

Anora found herself entering the veritable maze of alleys and back-streets that contained small warehouses where the small-time merchants kept their supplies and hovels where the city's poorest residents lived The passage they found themselves in was empty and a few dozen paces forward turned left again, heading in the general direction of harbor. It was up to her to pick a route there, as she had the dagger and was in the lead. A good ten burns they would need to travel and somewhere along they way they could come upon the Small Market, a tiny round square in the middle of the slums where those who could not afford a stall at the Marketplace peddled their wares.

With ample warning, Vanir easily avoided the dying woman's body, leaving her to drown in her own blood, the crimson red liquid filling her lungs and making her twitch in agony upon the cold cobbles. Then he and Manyana emerged from the crowd, finding themselves face to face with Silk's bodyguard, the man holding a pair of wickedly curved daggers in his hands, the wide brimmed hat he had worn discarded Manyana skidded to a stop, her own dagger flashing in the sunlight, grunting as she leaned on the injured leg, glancing up for a flicker and seeing only one of her men still in position and unable to assist. She made a feint at the bodyguard, but did not attack, waiting to Vanir to come closer and help him flank the tall man that barred their way.

Giorgio was never too far away, pausing every once in a while and letting the pair of them catch up, weaving his way through the alleys, going away from the sounds of battle. After less than a burn they found him crouched near a corner, motioning for them to stop, as he glanced around it, quickly pressing his back against the wall. "Simple Pleasures is just around the corner." Smataggio's whisper was almost lost in his wheezing breath, the men hopping on one foot to the wall and leaning against it. Then all of a sudden his hand lashed and gripped Reise's shirt pulling her against him, his other arm pressing her body to his, a sharp hiss passing just behind her head. There was a dull thud and a man fell down from the roof some twenty paces behind them, Giorgio's crossbow pointed at the spot where he had stood a flicker ago. "Signore. We need to go. Now." The man tossed his crossbow away and turned the corner, waiting for them and them offering his shoulder for support. They were back at the Trade Way and a tavern of sorts stood mere dozen paces across the street, a sign over the door proclaiming it to be Simple Pleasures.

Rhoddin found that his magick worked quite well that day, once more the archer freezing with a string drawn, a long flicker passing before his weary muscles released the string, the arrow missing the alley by a wide margin, slamming into the door mere inches from his right ear. To make matters worse, the archer was pulling another arrow and this time his eyes were focused on the bard, grim determination set upon the man's features as he set to aim his next arrow at Rhoddin's heart.

OOC: Reise you are no longer in an impassable thread. Feel free to move forward at your own leisure. Well done.

[Reise Silverskye]

Reise protested as she was suddenly grabbed and pulled against Smataggio, and she was in the middle of resisting violently, when she realized why. She glanced over her shoulder at the fallen would-be attacker, and then slowly stepped away from Smataggio. "My thanks," she murmured.

A few moments later, as they were regarding the tavern across the Trade Way, she sighed in relief. "Let's go there," she said. "And then, sir, if you do not mind, I think I will take my leave of you. It is one thing for me to be seen helping you - I could be passed off as just a simple passerby trying to help a hurt man away from a fight. But I'm guessing it would not be a good thing for the wrong people to think that I am actually associating with you."

Without waiting for an answer, she started to help him across the street, eager to reach the shelter of Simple Pleasures and regain her breath, before going safely on her way.

[Anora Frollie]

A pickpocket has to have almost a sixth sense to survive as Anora had, and she put that extra perception to use, her body tensed for attack, her mind focused on finding the most direct, most covered, least dangerous route to the the hideout. She didn't even speak when Silk gave his commands to her, already in defense mode.

As they reached the market, she tried to mentally pictures the best route. She wanted something easy for her mentor to maneuver through, yet with places where after he passed, the bodyguard could knock over obstacles. Once that route was in mind, she went, watching for anyone suspicious, ready to use the sharp dagger in her hand. She was in fight mode.