An Unusual Fugitive (Reserved)

[zearea]

The tavern go inn was not the worst in the capitol, yet it was certainly far from lavish, clean or polished like the few prestiges establishments that scattered Reajh. As it stands, the majority refer to 'Leyman's Way' as simply 'nice', catering for the middle class citizens, to the not so broke that they can't pay for their next meal.

This meant the food was decent, the service adequate and the sleeping quarters would not leave their clients with hives in the morning!

Several lamps hung about the exterior which gave off plenty light to see by and as soon as you step through the door way, your senses are assaulted by a fresh citrus fragrance. The bell attached to the door you swing open jingling to announce your presence. Directly before you on the opposite side of the comely tavern is the bar, the registration book to one corner. Beside the registration corner was a swinging double door, the sound of commands being thrown about to the sizzling of food is present.

If you swivel your sight to the left and navigate around tables, there are stairs leading up to the second story. Currently a tiny figure of just barely four foot, carefully traversed those stairs to the bottom, strands of curly scarlet hair escaping the hood to spiral down her chest. Her hair was not the pale ginger of the average red head, indeed there was a fiery richness like flame that framed her pale skinned and angular features.

Not only was the figure tiny in stature, she was also slim and fragile in most every aspect, including when she lifted her chin, revealing a youthful bewilderment in her azure gaze. Those eyes, seeming entirely human at this moment, briefly glance at the new comer before settling on the bar. Hesitating a moment, the woman tugged down the hood of her outfit more firmly, before approaching the counter and ordering food from the man tending the counter. She did not seem to want for money, indeed the silken robe, simple of design was well made, not a ragged edge, or worn seam to be seen, but as she lifted to the balls of her feet to see over the counter, a pair of boots that seemed more suited for traversing the wilds peeked from underneath the robe.

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[Flint]

Leyman's way was mediocre. Too pricey for the poor, not lavish enough for the filthy rich. Flint found it to be occupied by a boring clientele for the most part. Everything about the establishment left something to be desired, even if it was the smallest of faults, it was noticeable to the thief.

Thankfully he was only here on business terms. He'd done a little job for the head chef, nothing major. He wanted the recipe for a meal made by another tavern across town. Stealing it had been child's play. He'd broken in over night, picked the locks and found the recipe on a little page next to a large bowl. Leaving the place as he'd found it, he'd returned to Leyman's way, approaching the counter with a 'special order'.

The place was quiet, only a tiny red haired girl was by his side. He meant it when he said tiny. She must have been only four feet in height, a hood pulled over her head. He was conscious of the girl seeing his scar, so he pulled his half mask over his face. As he waited for the head chef to arrive, he muttered to the girl.
"Isn't it a bit late for a child to be wandering about?"

[zearea]

After her order was complete and coin spent, the red head pulled up a stool at the counter and waited. She fidgeted, chin jerking toward the man who had addressed her but gaze not quiet meeting his as a flush warmed her cheeks. "I am eighteen." She muttered softly, managing a slight smile and a thanks when the bartender returned with tea. "Why are you out so late? Or are you just waiting for someone?" She asked with a little curiosity, lifting her hands from where they fidgeted in her lap, to rest on the counter and gingerly hold the cup.

A wink of a silver cuff peered from her right wrist. It was thick, looking as if it could with stand more misuse then the average jewelry bought on the street, and besides the foreign text of gold on the underside, the cuff was made completely of  silver. It did not however look like it could simply be slipped off in a hurry...


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[Flint]

The cook arrived, dropping a heavy sack of coin into Flint's hand, which he pocketed quickly. The girl, who turned out to be a little older than he'd thought, asked what it was he was doing. He raised an eyebrow. Though he wasn't of the belief that women were any way less capable than men, it was strange to see such an outspoken girl around these parts.

"Why does anyone do anything?", he inquired. "I'm here to collect what I'm owed."

His eyes glanced downwards casually as light reflected off a bracelet on the girl's hand. Silver. An heirloom, perhaps. He'd earned enough today, taking a young girl's trinket was something he'd decided he didn't want to stoop to. For tonight anyways.

He took a closer look at this girl at his side. The hood pulled way over her head suggested she didn't want to be noticed or recognised. He himself had covered most of his face. Judging by her size and age, he'd almost guess she was some kind of elven race, though that was unlikely in Connlaoth, let alone Reajh. If he was right, then this girl was either brave or a fool.

Either way, he had no reason to care. She was just another person. Someone he'd probably scammed, or will scam in the future. Taking his bag of gold, Flint made his way for the door, ready to make his way out of this city. Coming to the door, he made way for a couple of guards who passed him without fuss. He smirked as the guards entered the inn,  completely unaware that he'd emptied the pockets of their breeches.

Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

[zearea]

Accepting the man's answer, the part elf fell silent, noting the exchange between cook and thief with mild interest before dropping her azure gaze to the countertop. She listened when the man rose, sighing as her shoulders slumped, before drawing the rim of her cup to her lips to sip at her tea gingerly. 

At that moment two well armed guards strolled in, their voices loud, and Ash gasped, cup slipping from her suddenly ice cold fingers to tip on its side, showering the tiny woman's robe. Flustered, she pushed away from the counter and began to make for the stairs at a quick walk.

"Are you alright miss?" The bartender man who saw this called after Ashlia but was ignored, left watching as she took the stairs two at a time.

From the door one of the two guards shouted, a parchment held to the light. "Is that a child? Wait! She fits the description, stop in the name of the bishop!" Both guards oblivious of Flint's transgression sprinted for the stairs, giving chase when the girl only flew up the stairs faster, door slamming shut behind her.

A few moments later after the second guard wrenched open the door, there was the sound of another slamming close and thumping. She had locked the door!

'Crash!' The door was kicked open it sounded like, before a manly curse of frustration issued. "She jumped out the window!"

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[Flint]

He hadn't expected the girl to jump from the building.

Flint had left the inn behind him, casually waltzing downtown, on his way to the stable to collect his horse. He'd payed the hand well. The streets were deserted, and he was tossing an odd token he'd stolen from one of the men in the inn. Keeping a hand near the hilt of his blade, Flint tensed up when he heard the crashing coming from a room above him.

The girl landed beside him. People falling from the sky had strangely become a common occurrence for the thief, so he wasn't all too shocked. He was however, sincerely annoyed when the guards followed soon after, spotting the token he'd stolen.
"Rotten thief!", the more burly guard had yelled, drawing a blade. He looked big, probably easy to maneuver around with his own knife. Flint didn't feel like being a killer tonight. He cursed the girl, breaking into a sprint down the cobblestone.

He'd always been good at running.

[zearea]

Shock registered when she straightened from her crouch after falling from the window, the little elf sparing a brief moment to send him a wavering, but sheepish smile. "Ah... Hi again." She exclaimed, bell like voice almost a soprano now.

From behind them was the metallic jingle of armor! Ash's eyes  widened and she launched into a sprint down the street in the opposite direction, only to hear. "Rotten thief!" Growled in contempt from one of the guards.

Brows pulled together, the elf glancing over her shoulder with confusion on her features to witness the man from before sprinting toward her.

It all made sense all of a sudden!

Turning back, Ash pumped her legs as fast as they would go but still the thief soon passes her. "Wait! Help please, don't let them capture me." She cried out, desperately reaching out to grasp the man's arm. She hadn't stopped running, and she possessed little strength so Flint could easily shake her off if he desired. "I could pay you, just help me please."

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[Flint]

His feet thundered down the street, even as the girl behind him yelled for help. Whether the girl lived or not, Flint wouldn't lose any sleep. It was likely he'd never see her ever again, regardless of what happened. He didn't care what ended up happening to her.

That troubled the thief. Life on the streets had toughened him up, made him strong, smart, a survivor. But it also made him cold. You needed to be cold to live like he did. There was no room for kindness, for charity. He wasn't quite completely cold yet, but he would be soon.

It was due to that that he slowed down a little, just in time to hear the girl promise payment. Coin, a language he spoke fluently. Skidding to a complete halt, he felt a smirk tug at his lips as he turned heel, running straight for the guards.

He raced past the girl, the first guard raising his blade threateningly. Flint drew one of his knives and gripped it by the blade, throwing it at the bulky man. The blade pierced his left shoulder, sending him staggering over to a nearby bakers wall.

The second guard took a swing at Flint, and the thief dodged to the left, seizing the guards wrist and twisting hard. The man screamed and wrenched his arm free, grabbing Flint by the throat and slamming him against a wall. His vision blurred as the guard raised a blade towards his neck. Instinctively, Flint kneed the man in the crotch, triggering the man to squeal in pain, doubling over. Another swift kick to the jaw brought the man down, out cold.

Flint strode towards the other guard, yanking his knife out of the man's shoulder, slamming a fist into the bridge of his nose as he walked by. His blades sheathed, Flint made his way for the girl to collect his payment.

That may have been my smoothest fight ever Flint thought. Maybe I should have been a mercenary

[zearea]

Ashlia skidded to a halt with a yelp when Flint turned on his heels and sprinted in her direction, a light in his eyes. For a brief moment fear flashed across her face, and then vanished when his attention swiftly zeroed in on the two soldiers. Turning around, robe snapping about her legs, Ash's lips parted in shock at how smoothly the thief downed them, and without killing them too.

She stood frozen, still reeling and when he approached, waiting before her, her awed look turned to blankness. That blank look did not last long, the little woman jerking as if awakened and fumbling for her pouch of coins. "Oh right!" She didn't count, simply gathered a palmful of coins and dumped them in his waiting hand. "Ill give you more if you can get me out of Reajh." The elf was smiling gratefully, although it was tense with panic and worry. "That is all I want to do."

[Flint]

Snatching the currency out of the girl's hand, Flint stormed ahead of her, down one of the main streets leading out of town, assuming the girl was following him. He'd gotten in enough trouble tonight, he didn't want to add 'fugitive smuggler' to is list of felonies. Still, the girl was young, even by his standards. He wasn't going to leave her to be caught and maybe executed.

"You're lucky I'm greedy", he grumbled under his breath, taking a different route to avoid a guard outpost, using his manipulation of luck to decrease the chance of them being detected. It wouldn't be long before they reached the city's limits, where they'd enter a forest.
"Why were those men after you? What did you do?"

[zearea]

Ash stuck close to Flint, her short legs requiring double the working to keep with his faster pace. At his question, Ashlia cringed, eyes anywhere but at Flint now. "I may, or may not have been accused of being a mage.." She said vaguely, acutely aware the thief probably had reflexes superior to hers. "And you know how intolerant they are to magic, I barely got out of my home when it was raided. My mother wasn't so lucky." Her breath hitched, features twisting in pain. "I want to rescue her but look at me-." The elf thrust her arms out to her sides and coaxed her fingers toward herself, a frustrated frown on her face. "I am no match for them."

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[Flint]

Strangely, the thief sympathised with the girl. He knew what it was like to be kept away from your mother. He knew what it was like to be persecuted for what he was: a mage. "This is a cruel place", he muttered, coming to a crack in the towns wall that he'd found behind some shrubs. "You first".

"You're right. Alone, you cannot save your mother", he confirmed, sliding through the crack in the wall like an eel. The air seemed fresher already, as they stood in a wide open green area. The forest lay about twenty metres in front of them. "So don't do it alone. Connlaoth might seem close minded when it comes to magic, but there are plenty of people who believe magic should be practiced. There is a reason for the bloody Civil War". Stalking through the grass, he became conscious of how they might be visible to guard towers. It was too late at night for regular travellers to be about. They'd be sure to raise suspicion if seen. "Find a few valiant 'heroes' and find a way to rescue her".

[zearea]

Ash slipped through the hole win the wall without difficulty due to her size, her frustration diminishing sharply when the thief confirmed her fears, but her helplessness and fear did not, the emotions shaping her once rather carefree features into stressful lines.

The civil war...

With it has brought nothing but suffering, but as Elleva explained, it has to get worse before it gets better. Ashlia did not understand this utterly, suffering was suffering to her.
"What about you, are you a sympathizer toward the mages?" She turned, walking backwards into the forest so that she could peer at the man whom had aided her thus far. It hadn't occurred to her yet that he maybe a mage himself, she had not seem him use magic after-all.

Flint was right to be concerned, the moon was high and bright this night, bearing it's silvery glow across Connloath and causing their shadows to elongate behind them as wrathful beasts. The sound of nocturnal wild-life, so vibrant a moment ago, abruptly fell silent at the howling of dogs, many dogs. It was the call of the hunt, a small group of soldiers mounted on their steeds steadied their weapons and leaned low over their horses as they raced behind a pack of hunting hounds.

Ashlia froze, lips parted but no sound was released as her attention was taken by the dogs. Her complexion paled, and she bounded back to Flint's side to partially hide behind him, her long, pointed ears twitching. "Wolves? They sound really close..." She muttered in a low voice, then sucked in her bottom lip to gnaw upon. "Do you think an invisibility spell will be enough to avoid them?"