Two men— tall, unshaven, and wholly unkempt —stopped to catch their breath.
This forest, nestled closed to the province of Featherfall, served as their temporary sanctuary, for the time being. His face was beaded with sweat, breaths labored, body slumped, as if he had just completed a cross country marathon. Both of the men were dressed in black, tattered rags, each with a tattoo of an X marked across their right cheeks.
One of the men, who sported wild, unruly red hair, leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think we lost 'em, for now."
The other man reached into his coat pocket, and took out a package wrapped in fine, white cloth. His hands, coated with grime and sweat, dirtied the linen as he undid the rope that held the cloth together, taking out a silver brooch from the wrappings. He held it up to the light, which caused the brooch to gleam in the sun, leaking a strange magical energy as it absorbed the sunlight. It seemed to illuminate the whole forest as it did so, giving off a divine light.
"Oi, put it away!" the redheaded man hissed. "Why not just alert the whole bloody forest that we're here, huh?"
"I'm just checkin' to make sure it works!" the man holding the brooch shot back. Begrudgingly, he tucked the brooch back in its wrappings, placing it back in his coat pocket. "It's been through hell the last few days, and we've only got enough energy to teleport one more time. If he finds us..."
"He won't! As long as you don't go showin' off the damned thing, we'll be fine." The redhead man groaned, rubbing his temples. "Just remember the plan. We'll teleport to Jadenshine if he finds us again. Got it? Northen Jadenshine. Don't go forgetting again."
The man in charge of the brooch sighed in exasperation. "I got it, I got it! No need to tell me twice..."
Both men sighed, still keeping along the forest path. They grew a little less wary as they made their way through the trees, still catching their breath.
It would seem, for a time, that they were off the hook, when suddenly, a dagger flew from behind them, nicking one of the men's ears, nearly cutting it off. The man jumped in surprise, holding a hand to his ear and spun around, spying the mercenary who had been hunting them all this time. In almost no time at all, the mercenary had been quietly closing in on them, and now he was drawing his blade, meaning to stop them with lethal force, if necessary.
The merc's blade was parried by the redhead's sword, while the other man seemed bit his lip, backing up, a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Aden, now!" the redhead shouted, and in a flash, the two had disappeared. The merc's blade cut through air— they had escaped his grasp, once again.
Reks stood up, narrowing his dim grey eyes. He swore under his breath, adjusting his hood back up and over his cat ears, staring off into the distance. The merc crossed his arms over his chest, almost at a loss for what to do. They had escaped him again— after weeks of tracking them down — and sooner or later, they'd meet with their master, to give them the brooch. If he didn't get it back before then, gods, he'd never hear the end of it...
"Damnit," he cursed, casting his eyes up toward the sky. It was back to the drawing board, and he had absolutely no idea where they could've gone. And, to make matters worse, he could hear a shuffling in the trees, as if someone was hiding, spying on his failure.
"Who's there?" he called, one hand on the hilt of his blade, grey eyes searching the treetops. At a measly height of five feet, five inches, Reks didn't look like much— but he was pissed off and not likely to be in a very good mood at the moment.
