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Shadows of the Grave

Started by Lion, December 02, 2013, 12:33:19 AM

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Lion

He welcomed the night.  With the temperate forests that were present throughout the Sirantil Valley, they were enough for him to offer some peace and quiet amidst the tension that tugged across all corners of his mind.  Mercuxio took his horse toward the river that that ran through the small hills that rose around him.  The trees were thickened here and the soft chirp of night birds put his mind at ease.

The grass grew tall at his feet and his thick leather boots moved gracefully through the delicate tendrils, stepping softly, and his horse seeming to do the same.  All the quiet, and he listened to just that – the silence.  He wished he could trap that silence inside his mind, and contain it there at least for the night, that at least he might sleep and gain peace from the troubles that hounded him.

But no matter what he tried the voices continued to echo relentlessly in the back of his mind.  He could hear Olive's, the contempt, the anger.  His father's voice, empty in his choice of words toward his son.  Attalia, the past coming back from the grave.  He could see their faces, passing like ghosts before his eyes and he clutched his temples, feeling as if he was about to go mad.

He wanted to scream, to call it out, but his own voice was trapped inside of him, fighting against him to come out.  Mercuxio took in a deep breath and shoved it all away, swallowing it down in one quick gulp like the fire of whiskey.  He felt it simmer in his belly, burn away until it was nothing more than the smoke of ashes. 

The priest of St. Agratha turned his eyes to the evening sky, to the lidless eye that watched him from above, waxing by this time of month.  Moonlight was the only light that shone through the branches and canopy of trees.  His horse took his head up from drinking from the stream as he heard the sound of hooves fast approaching, moving with ease through the trees and up the side of the hill.  The sound too caught Merric's attention and he could not see the shape that was moving in their direction.

It was a shame his peace could not have lasted longer.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

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Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

It was a good night, a night for still air and strong moonlight, good enough to ride without torch or heavy clothing. Out here, beyond the noise and crowding of the towns the silence was near absolute, broken only by the occasional rustle or chirrup of a night-faring creature - and the hooves of Aster's mount. She had given the horse her head not long after they left town and simply let her run, touching at her flank every now and again to keep her from becoming too lathered. She'd always been a speedy thing, a lithe grey mare she rather thought had been assigned to her as a joke. Give pale Aster a pale horse to match. Clearly, mordecai weren't known for their sense of humour.

But she was a reliable animal, and it at least meant that they made good time, the forests of the Sirantil Valley rising up around them as the moon rose ever higher. What a rare and lovely night - finer conditions she could not have hoped for. She only hoped it would remain so: a sudden squall or updraft in the wind would only make tracking that much harder, and if she were very unlucky, her associate that much more ill-tempered.

Not that she knew the man was ill-tempered. Truth be told, she knew little of him at all other than his reputation, and that she took with a grain of salt. His effectiveness seemed widely known, the rest varying between expected and concerning - but that was hardly news when it came to hiring outside of the mordecai. Anyone not of the order on a hunt like this was not like to be straightforward. A sellsword or a zealot... or in this case, a priest.

She would see.

The mare's pace slowed to a canter on the incline of the final hill, shining stream and dappled moonlight flashing repeated patterns along the horses back and the cloak she'd pulled over her plate and mail. It cast heavy shadows below the canopy, and Aster was forced to stick to the stream to find her way - little wonder then, that the man and his horse loomed so suddenly out of the night.

To her credit, Aster's expression did not falter, neither did her pace. She reined up beside him smoothly, pulling down her grey hood in lieu of a greeting. Even on horseback, she appeared small, but her posture was straight-backed and proud, pale eyes sharp and searching in the gloom. There was a moments silence in which she took him in, unblinking, and then she gave a nod.

"Confessor Mercuxio."

Lion

As the sound of the hooves beating on soft ground became louder, Mercuxio snapped out of his reverie, and remembered the real reason he was standing in a copse beside a trickling stream.  It was not to lose himself – whatever little serenity that brought him – but to in fact meet with an emissary from the Mordecai.  When the voice caught his attention and he could see the face more clearly in the moonlight, he furrowed his brows.

It was a woman.

He was not displeased, for his own stony face showed no such expression, nor was he disappointed.  Merely surprised.  His eyes visibly relaxed and he nodded to her.  "You're not late.  Good," he replied and nodded to her as he pushed back his own hood that was folded evenly into the collar of his white and blue robes, embroidered with the Spear of Ansgar over both shoulders, and only spotted here and there with the dust and dirt of travel. 

He had little to go off his new partner, save from the small summary of information regarding their performance.  Dedication, discipline, and focus, wasn't much to go on.  But he wasn't about to waste precious time considering any limitations regarding her sex.  It mattered little in a situation like this.

Merric peered up through the stream and listened to the quiet wind that poured between the trees.  It was breathy and blew east this evening, taking with it the scent of water and pine.  A perfect night for a hunt.

"What do you know of the mage?" Merric was quick to the point about it, his eyes surveying his partner.  This Aster Delancy.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

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The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

"Naturally." Aster nodded placidly, allowing herself to be surveyed with no sign of protest. Indeed, she did a little examination of her own, taking in the Confessor's attire and build, his stern face, and if she found anything objectionable there, she didn't show it. She didn't show anything at all, really. "We are, after all, running on a schedule."

It wasn't a question. Both of them had been made aware of the time frame available to them, and so far both had proved reliable. Simple enough, and should they and the conditions remain favourable, then the rest of their business would surely follow. Speaking of which: her new associate was professional, getting straight to business without troubling with the niceties. Aster nodded again - this time in approval, she could never abide small talk - and brought her horse about so that they stood a little closer together, not troubling to raise her voice on such a still night.

"Little and less." She told Mercuxio, as casually as though she were speaking of the weather. "Physical descriptions were sparse: a young adult male, and little more than that. However, we do know that this mage desecrated an Ansgarian relic in a chapel two leagues south and west from here, and was almost apprehended by locals. If our questioning holds truth, the mage was wounded in several places." A corner of her mouth twitched, but whether it was with disapproval or amusement was difficult to tell. "No civilian casualties, unless you count the distress of the chapel priest."

Lion

Getting to business was certainly preferable than standing here feeling sorry for himself.  And Merric was never the kind of man that liked to linger long on his emotions.  Not when there was much work to be done.  He was glad at least that his new associate was capable enough of filling in the holes of his own information.  While the Confessors certainly had eyes and ears in most, if not many, high places of interest, it was always possible for smaller factions in lower positions to sweep underneath their scope. 

"As far as I know, the mage is working alone, and no known rogue affiliations that we currently know.  But there isn't any reason to believe he doesn't have some unknown faction that is only now emerging.  The torching in the chapel, says enough as it is."  Merric looked up and through the trees in the direction of the village she pointed at.  He smelled the eastern wind again and with it carried only the faint scent of pine and water once more, but now with something more.  Metal.  But something struck him as well, particularly at the knowledge that the man was wounded.

"Blood," he murmured, loud enough for her to hear.  "He must have come this way...it doesn't smell that old.  It might be a little far-fetched, but it's a start.  Let's follow the stream," he said, motioning her to follow.  "In what areas did they say he was wounded?  I imagine it was quite a bit of blood if I can smell it."  He did not mount his horse and walked up on the hill as the water flowed down beside them.  "Keep a look out for it."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

Straight to it then. Good. The longer they dithered about with pleasantries, the more time their quarry had to slip the net. As such, she was sure to give the Confessor her full attention, sharp and alert and listening intently. "The church may well be a warning," She nodded, expression turning mildly thoughtful. "Either that of a cornered man attempting to scare, or an organisation making themselves known. Either way, we chase a cornered man, likely to lash out."

It was her opinion, but the people they hunted tended to follow patterns and specific mindsets. The torching of the church was textbook in its symbolism, but she had learned very early on in her career that the variables were rarely so obliging. Take the Confessor, for instance. The mention of blood had her prick up her ears, and as a faint rustle of breeze stirred the trees around them, she found she could smell it too: the very faint tang of iron.

"You aren't imagining it." She whispered back, reining in her horse as it shied a little, disturbed by the smell. She slipped off her own horse with a gentle clink of mail, following point behind Mercuxio as indicated. Her eyes however, were on their surroundings, not him. "The legs and back, by all accounts, and one across the lower abdomen. Not mortal wounds if he had the sense to staunch them, but I imagine he was in too much of a hurry."

They continued in watchful silence for a while, the moon providing ample light and the stream as sound to drown out their footsteps. The smell wavered on the wind, but gradually it grew stronger until-- "There." She hissed, eyes fixed on a dark stain a few metres to Mercuxio's right. "By that tree."

Lion

Mercuxio, thankfully, was paying enough attention to sound of any kind to hear her voice.  The moonlight illuminated the bloodstain and grass blades that were stained by it and he quickly moved toward it.  "He's a lot closer than I imagined.  This blood is fresh.  He can't be far.  Perhaps it might be best if we split up, but remain within sight of each other.  We'll signal to each other if we see him, or sign of his passing," Merric remarked.

He peered up at the bloody handprint stamped on the bark of the tree, smeared as if the man were using it to help him keep his balance as he passed through the area.  Mercuxio looked at Aster and nodded her to take the right, while he took the left.  It was a lead as fresh as they would presently find, unless they found a body.

Or better yet: A living man.

Mercuxio's hand rested on the hilt of his mace and could easily slip it out and give it a swing with little effort.  He kept his eyes open and focused on the shadows, and only gave minor glances to Aster as he viewed her across from him.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

Aster hung back to begin with, keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings with a hand on her revolver, ready to draw at the slightest hint of movement. None came however, and she carefully approached the blood the Confessor was examining. Grimly, she heard his suggestion, nodding after a moments pause. "We must keep a sharp eye. If it is so fresh..." She didn't need to finish the sentence, nodding again to acknowledge his instructions before she stepped away, her hand back on her revolver.

They were fastidious in their search, working in silence with glances to their surroundings every once in a while. The quiet remained undisturbed by attack or a fleeing quarry, but the smell of blood was too strong to be complacent. Mercuxio knew his trade, and so did she - all they had to do was find the proper trail. Aster was only thankful that the moon was so bright: it would have made their hunt far harder, had it been overcast. As it was, she soon saw more, several dark red spots on an area of disturbed undergrowth, and a larger wet smear across a rock.

She held up a hand silently, waving him over to point it out. "He is weak or desperate." She surmised. "Certainly he isn't troubling to hide his tracks."

Lion

Mercuxio peered at her and strode quietly over when she motioned him to come.  His boots though of conditioned leather for extended traveling were soft enough to move quietly across the grass, weeds, twigs, and soil underfoot.  His armor was greased at the joints and padded where it could be with boiled, softened leather.  It was heavy, but for his frame, it suited him and he wore it well.  The loose and partly dirty robe of the Templar hung over the armor, concealing its metallic glare in the moonlight.

Merric moved quietly through the dark until he saw the blood stains in the grass on rock and found her words provocative.  "No, he isn't" Merric found his lips uttering in just a whisper just above his breath, that she might not even hear it.  His eyes narrowed, curious at the thought and he followed the few stains and watched something unusual in the darkness.  The wind concealed the sound for a second, allowing one to easily confuse it with the rustling of tree branches above, but Merric trained his ears to hone in on the sound of strained twine just about to break.

"Down!" was all Merric had time to shout before he threw his body at Aster and pulled her down with him, and laid his body on her just as the twine broke with a wicked snap.  Above them swung a young branch that had been pulled back enough to give a devastating blow to whatever it hit.  Not only that, but in the branch, several spikes were embedded into it, no doubt leaving gory marks.

Merric looked up, his heart beating rapidly, and stared wide-eyed at the branch before peering down at Aster.  "Or using time to devise a trap," he said and crawled off her and scampered to his feet, peering around him wildly.  "I hear him!  He can't be far!  Come on!"




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

After the second spill of blood, everything was happening too fast. Aster hadn't fully registered what was going on before the Confessor was upon her, knocking her to the ground with a yell. All the breath left her as she lay squashed by her larger comrade, but a lack of breath was hardly their problem: from her new vantage point she could see quite clearly the makeshift trap swinging above them, wicked spikes and all. She would have gasped if she had the ability to, meeting Mercuxio's eye with a wide-eyed stare of her own. This hunt had suddenly turned far more complicated.

She scrambled to her feet the moment she was able, any gratitude set by the wayside for later. Instead she drew her pistol, her own heart hammering as she turned in slow circles, eyes scanning the edges of the clearing. Though her breath was not quite returned to her, she fought to bring them to an advantage, drawing upon her nullifying powers as best she could, simultaneously hoping and dreading that the mage was close enough for it to be of use.

Evidently though, he had anticipated that: before she could draw upon her power fully, there was a low buzzing in the air and the smell of burning ozone. The horses reared, thrashing and screaming. Aster's mare plunged forward, snapping the bridle that anchored her to a tree and narrowly missing her rider in her mad dash into the woods. Attempting to stop her would have been tantamount to throwing oneself beneath her hooves, and Aster could only leap out of the way before her horse vanished in the gloom. Her concentration shattered, Aster swore in a rare moment of vehemence, casting frantically about them for the source. Their quarry had turned the tables on them in the space of a minute, and the mordecai didn't like it one bit.

"There!" She cried, the time for whispering now passed. The undergrowth shuddered, and this time she heard clear as day the sound of fleeing footsteps, hurried and clumsy. "Confessor, the mage! After him!"

Lion

Mercuxio had pressed himself against a tree trunk when Aster's horse suddenly came barreling her way.  His horse had stayed partly calm in the chaos and had ran toward his rider.  At the sound of footsteps passing haphazardly through the woods, Mercuxio immediately leapt forward when his horse was near enough and climbed in.  "Gimme your hand!" he rode beside Aster and would pull her up on the saddle behind him.

The man was  close enough to see his shape through the trees, in what moonlight pierced through them.  He ran between shade and light, weaving between the trees.  Goddamn was he ungodly nimble.  Despite being on horseback, Merric had to slow his steed enough to pass through the trees.

"He's getting away!" Merric growled and dug his heels into the stallion's sides.  The animal neighed and rode faster.  Suddenly the air began to feel oppressive, and Merric had a dripping sweat appear on his brow.  He pulled the reins on his mount as he suddenly saw a wall of fire coming directly at them, and the horse pounded the ground to fear and desperation, wanting to run.  But Merric refused and commanded the beast to go around it.  If he could evade it in time.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

Aster did not hesitate. Thanking their good fortune that both horses hadn't bolted, she sprang forward to give her hand immediately. He pulled, she heaved, swinging herself into the saddle. Before she was even properly seated, he gave the horse its head and they broke into a gallop, crashing through the undergrowth after their fleeing mage.

The forest flashed by in silver and black, Aster ducked low to see their quarry under the Confessor's arm. By rights, they should have run him down easily, but the unnatural beast had practically grown wings, leading them a merry chase that cut their mad dash down to size. She bit back a curse, fumbling with her revolver. She didn't bother to raise it: knowing full well she was more likely to hit their horse than the mage.

"I know." she ground out through clenched teeth, eyes fixed on the path ahead - but then the air became thin and dry, a crackling roar heralding the next attempt to destroy them. It was only Mercuxio's discipline over his horse that saved them, missing the burning wall by what felt like millimetres. Aster gasped, breathing in the stench of burning hair - though whether it was the horse or her, she couldn't yet tell. Her night vision was just about ruined, but they pressed on, their horse shying and neighing in fear of humans who spat fire.

"There's no way we can catch him like this!" She heard herself cry, fumbling again for her gun, for her throwing knives, for something. "We need a way to slow him down!"

Lion

"There's no way we can catch him like this!"

Mercuxio grit his teeth at her words, knowing full well they would lose him - even on horseback - if they didn't do something soon.  With the way the horse galloped, the chances of Aster getting a clear shot with her gun were slim if she didn't miss, shoot their mount, shoot him, or shoot a tree.  And the darkness wasn't helping either of them. 

"I think I know a way," the Templar barked out hoarsely.  He peered up at the sky and forced the blessing cast upon him and his rank.  Merric was not a mage, nor had the gifts of a Mordecai that allowed the negation of magic within their range.  But Confessors were not without their gifts and when Merric's hand reached for his mace at his side, he unhooked it and held it up.  The edged runes along the hilt began to shimmer as if moonlight passed over them and the sky too began to swirl in the coming storm.

Mercuxio recited his prayer, mentally and spiritually as he summoned the Wrath of God.  The sky continued to churn and soon a rumble growled from them.  Lightning danced among the clouds and struck the ground here and there.  Mercuxio pointed his mace forward in the general direction of their target and raining balls of fire came down, striking the ground fiercely.  Though they were largely far apart, one fireball struck the ground in the mage's path and the man cried out as he fell from the force of the impact.

Merric pulled the horse to a walk and calmed the skies, reciting one more prayer as the storm ceased and they were safe to approach their quarry. 




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

At first, Aster was lost as to what Mercuxio might have had in mind, too preoccupied with keeping the mage in her sights. It wasn't easy, and it occurred to her that whatever was thinking of would have to be good, otherwise they were doomed to failure - or worse, should the mage have another spell up his sleeve. Then she saw him lift his runed mace, and comprehension dawned. Her eyes widened, and automatically she braced herself for the onslaught. The mage might not have known what was coming, but she certainly did. The reputation of Confessors preceded them.

How they continued without being struck or sending their horse into panic, she would never know, but it was a sight to behold. Fire and lightning left bolts of light behind her lids when she blinked, the air suddenly thick with the smell of burnt foliage and ozone. Fire burst at intervals around and ahead, until with a final hiss of flame and a shriek, one of them found their mark, sending the mage flying backwards. Rather fitting, when one considered the fate he'd had in store for them.

She gave a curt nod of satisfaction, though he couldn't see it. "Well struck, Confessor. Very well struck." They approached as the skies cleared and the gods tamed their fury, and when they were close enough Aster slipped from the horse, performing a lightning-quick check over horse and riders. She could smell a pungent odour close to one ear where stray cinders had singed her hair, leaving a dark tuft a little shorter than the rest - but other than that and some stress on the part of the horse, they had emerged unscathed. When she was satisfied, she rounded upon their prey, the mage still moaning on the ground. When he saw her approach, he raised a hand as if to cast or curse, letting out a groan of frustration and pain when nothing happened.

"Your powers are negated." She informed him coolly, drawing her gun for the third time. This time however, her hands were perfectly steady. "You are bound by law, and we suggest you remain still." With the tell-tale click of her thumbing back the hammer, there was no need to point out the alternative.

Lion

The mage hyperventilated at the sensation of walls closing in on him so quickly and he stared wide-eyed at Aster for what seemed an eternity.  Mercuxio hung back and tended to the horse for a moment to calm its nerves and wipe sweat from it's eyes before joining Aster.  The Confessor eyed her gun and gave a sniff, but said nothing of her chosen weapon.  Pistols were not really his thing, but he didn't mind so much as long as she didn't shoot him anywhere on his person.

Though the mage said nothing as he stared down the barrel, he reared his head back and spit at the pair of them.  At that instigation, Mercuxio shot forward and grabbed the man by the shirt, lifting him clear off the ground.  His body was powerful for a priest, and he wouldn't settle into the comfortable life of a vicar or a bishop just yet.  The mage gave a momentary struggle before Merric realized the consequences of letting his rage get the better of him and he set him on the ground, releasing his hold.

"I'm sure you know the consequences of your actions and what your punishment will be.  This can be difficult, or this can be even more difficult.  The choice is yours.  Tell me your -"

The mage reared back again and spat on Merric and the priest graciously wiped it from his cheek as if it were nothing more.  Instead he gave a small smile.  "May Ansgar have mercy on you," he murmured.

"Ansgar can burn for all I care!" he cried savagely and moved to strike at Aster, or at least disarm her from her gun.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

The mage was afraid. Understandable under the circumstances, but after his behaviour that evening Aster had little sympathy. She kept her gun trained on him for several long moments, looking him dead in the eye, unblinking. She could hear her comrade quietly sooth his horse behind them, but that was the only sound as the short time stretched.

The mage was the first to break eye contact, only to rear back and spit his defiance. It was nothing new, and she would have wiped it away and quite calmly let it pass - saliva was hardly damaging, after all. Mercuxio evidently didn't see it that way. Quick as a snake he struck, hauling up the defiant fool in a sudden burst of rage. His companion blinked, silently taken aback by this sudden episode. She might have appreciated the attempt at chivalry, but clearly he had stronger feelings towards their quarry than she'd first thought.

"Confessor!" She said sharply, but he had already seen sense, lowering the man to the ground far more sedately. Aster meanwhile, breathed again, allowing Mercuxio to take the reins as she kept her aim steady, eyes narrowing again. This time when the mage tried to spit at him, it was taken as the fruitless gesture it was. His attempt to attack her however, was much less so.

Aster had a firmer grip on her gun than the mage had thought - and an even firmer one on her wits. He had barely laid hands on her when she side-stepped him, removing herself from harm as she swung with her gun arm. The butt struck him a solid blow on the side of the head, and the mage was flipped arse-over-kettle into the mud, blood bubbling up from a brand-new cut on his brow.

"Opinionated, isn't he?" Said Aster, as though shouting was the only thing he'd done. "Sir, I take no pleasure in it, but should you try that again I will not hesitate to add to that cut. Now, I believe my partner was asking you a question."

Lion

A smirk played on the side of his lips when he saw the mage go down from the pistol-whip.  He laid on the floor, prostrated, pathetic and at least he was subdued for now.  Mercuxio cut his eyes toward Aster, separating herself from her actions, and yet within them all at the same time.  The demeanor was admirable.  it meant she would stay focused, and she proved that in how she spoke to the mage and then to him.

"His opinions are of little consequence for now," Merric added with little more than a grim expression, his flicker of a smile gone.  He did not try to repeat his question but instead moved toward their quarry and grabbed him by the collar, turning him over and pulling his hands behind his back.  He held his wrists with one hand then took a leather strip from his belt and quickly knotted them together.

"We cannot question him here.  We need to take him a more secluded area," he said.  "Somewhere away from the possibility of unwanted eyes and ears."  Without much effort, he grabbed the mage, dragging him to his feet and throwing him over his shoulder then moving toward the horse and tossing him over the saddle.  "North of here is an old cabin, but it is a few miles from here.  Let us go while the night is young."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Vivi

She could feel Mercuxio's eyes on her once the mage had dropped, but for the moment did not acknowledge it. Her eyes were needed to focus on their prisoner, declawed and humbled, but by no means harmless even with her aura and her gun. She stayed focused, unaware of her partner's admiration, eyes only for the mage and the sights on her gun. Unfortunately for him, this was not counting much in his favour. Mages that tried to run away earned little by way of leniency.

It was for this reason that she didn't protest, didn't speak at all when the Confessor dragged him to his feet, binding his hands with practiced precision. If he wasn't gentle, she made no note of it, returning the mage's sullen gaze with a cold one of her own. It was only when Mercuxio had him well in hand that she lowered her weapon, holding it unholstered down by her side.

"Well thought." She agreed, nodding curtly. She followed at a distance, keeping a close eye on the mage and their surroundings. As the Confessor had said: unwanted eyes and ears were a very real risk. "I know the place: it hasn't been reported as used for an interrogation yet." Important, in that it was less easy to detect through records and dissident spying. "If we go now, we should have some hours of darkness left upon arrival." Silently irritated at the loss of her own horse, she came alongside Mercuxio and his horse, eyes still flickering around the clearing. It would make movement harder, but she was no less ready to move for it.

Lion

The darkness of night lay in their stead, enveloping them as they moved through the moonlit trees.  Mercuxio had lent her his horse, if for the moment as he had the mage strapped to the front of his saddle.  It was a great weight to bear, three people, but the beast was strong and labored onward through the night with no sigh nor neigh of complaint.  Mercuxio might have spared the effort to find her horse, but the night hours were known to quickly wane and they had little time to waste. 

Their task was set before them.  So onward they rode, Merric in the middle, the mage in front, passed out from exhaustion, and Aster behind him.  Mercuxio held one hand on the reins and the other holding Aster's hands around his waist.  He cared little for the mage, if he fell and somehow ended up trampled beneath the black horse's hooves.  Of course, that wouldn't really do since they needed him alive.  He some how lay more or less balanced with his belly on the saddle.

Not a word was said between them.  They didn't have to in that sense and when the shadow of the cabin reached their sight, Mercuxio slowed the horse to a walk and peered about them.  "Look around.  See that there aren't any strange eyes that shouldn't be here," he breathed.  Admittedly, he couldn't see much in the dark, but obvious signs of trespassing or visitors would be hard to miss if you knew what to look for.  No stray footprints, no splashed mud on the cabin walls.

As far as he knew, they were otherwise alone.

Mercuxio, took the mage by the collar and dismounted, tying the horse to a nearby tree as he threw the body over his shoulder.  He glanced at Aster.  "After you," he said, bowing his head.




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"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

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