Blood Red Sunrise: TPO IC (PG-13)

[Stryker]

As he weaved through the people, some stopping to talk with others while some walked at a faster pace than he, bumping into the slower patrons of the market without a word of apology. Many things end up getting lost in a place of this size; pleasantries, money, people… and lives. The latter being the reason Weston found himself in the district.

He was contracted to hunt down a man who was wanted dead for pick-pocketing the village elder in the small village he lived in.

There weren’t many laws in the smaller village, but one of the major ones was no stealing of any kind and when a law was broken, action was taken to make an example out of the person in question. It turned out that this was this person’s third time that he had stolen from the elder and for that, he was to be hunted down and killed, what happened afterwards didn’t affect or matter to anyone. They knew the laws and what could happen if things such as these persisted.

By now though, the man had been slain and left to bleed out in a back alley, hidden by the shadows.

“Royce will be happy to know that I’ve dealt with the thief…” Weston thought to himself while wiping his hands on his pants upon exiting the alley.

“The carriage! The royal carriage is back!” he heard someone yell out which was followed by frantic clamoring as well as hectic movement from all involved. They almost seemed to push each other out of the way just to be as close as they could to the carriage carrying their royal family.

“The prince rides with the driver?” he noticed, sticking to his position instead of rushing like a lemming just for a glimpse of the occupants.

As it rolled by, a few of the younger peasants ran after it childishly, squealing out in happiness as if it were some sort of game.

“Being awestruck over the royal family is something I don’t partake in… I feel already too close to their air of superiority…” he spoke aloud to himself while beginning to walk off.

On the way out of the market, he noticed a paper lightly blowing in the window as it was tacked onto a post. It looked like a bounty of some sort and that was enough to garner his attention. He also noticed that someone else had already taken note and was signing the sheet. It looked to be a dark elf, he didn’t expect to see an elf signing a bounty signup sheet.

As he reached the sheet, he nodded to the elf without a word before signing his own name just below the elf’s name.

“Joshua Hawke…” he thought after signing his name, obviously that was the elf’s name.

He’d have to remember that…

[Koti~]

“… is that, a tail?” The man stated, making her jump. She blushed deep red, and took a few seconds to notice that the near fall had made her tail slip out of its usual hold, and swing free happily. She didn’t know what to say, so she just stood there and blushed.

“I’ve never seen a … person with a tail” The man responded, which seemed to snap her out of her reverie. She quickly grabbed her tail and tied it back around, hoping that no one else had seen it.

“It’s a … spell gone wrong?” Tiffany said, pulling down her hood some. Her short hair spiked hair allowed her ears to point out a bit, her blue eyes catching some of the midday sun. She sighed and shook her head, trying to relax herself a bit. Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she her normal smile spread, ears perking up a bit.

“Either way, it seems we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Trixie, the pixie” She said, smiling wide and bowing lightly with a bit of a flourish. She was hoping to distract the man long enough that he would forget about the tell, or by the lie of a spell gone wrong.

“May I ask of the name of my fair rescuer?” She chided, sounding sincere and playful at the same time, the nervous point behind her as she slipped into a more natural role. She hadn’t planned to bump into someone of his stature, but everyday brought about a new chance to enjoy something new.

[Car'mael]

"Oh Creator.... Please, ma'am, if you could catch her reins? I promise, I'll pay for another apple--just don't let her have more!" Faran asked desperately of the fight-scarred woman with the long dark braids (Basil). "Just give me a moment to get down, that's all I ask!"

Yet even as he asked that, the lithe young Bardling was struggling to climb down the mule's side, hoping against hope that the mule would stay focused on that one apple long enough for him to grab her reins or bridle and gain control of her. Clearly, he wasn't very good at riding--one slender ankle-boot caught a bit in the stirrup and he had to hop on one foot a moment to get free without twisting it, his blonde ponytail swinging wildly and cloak fluttering like a living thing with the movement. Finally, both feet on solid ground, Faran grabbed Bess's bridle at the cheek, and looked up at Basil with honest and concerned golden-brown eyes.

"I am terribly sorry! She was startled, and I lost control... I do owe you, however. I apologize--my name is Faran, Faran Fallenleaves. I'll get you another, if you like?" he offered, his light and musical slightly-male voice a bit at odds with the delicate and almost feminine features he bore.

Mentally, he winced at the thought of losing what few coins remained. He would have to sing on the street in a day or two if this kept up. After all, he had to stable this creature, feed it, and maybe do the same for himself... and hopefully find a patron or an inn or somesuch who would help him get started. With luck, he might get a true patron for the winter. Without... well... Bess might have to go, and he would be lucky to not starve before spring. The city did have competition, he knew...

Yet right then he heard the Crier's call, and his ears perked, head turning to glance that way in relief. Ah, at least there was a Creator-given opportunity! If nothing else, he might gain a bit of coin by helping and even make a song to commemorate the hunt--something to get his name out and advertise his skills. With luck, perhaps he might make some friends along the way!

Unfortunately, Bess had other concerns. She sidled again, yanking the Bardling almost off his feet, as she eyed a broom (Rhys) nearby with suspicion. Gold-brown eyes looked at the owner in dismay and confusion, for he could see no reason the pretty woman (Agatha) with the green eyes and pointy hat should startle a mule, of all creatures, especially with such a mundane object.

[Jacogos]

There was not a single person that day within the city who could have the name "Antivani Narvez" spoken to them and have even the slightest hint of recognition light their face. It simply just wasn't a name anyone knew. Well, no one LIVING, in any case. They were all blissfully unaware of the presence of the 2nd Talon of the Blackhawkes in their city, staying quietly in the shadows as he awaited his prey.

All of this was simply because Antivani, better known (though not by much) as Drix, was a master of staying hidden. It was a little known fact that at any given second, you could be looking right at Drix and never see him. Of course, owning a rune that bent light rays coming at you didn't really make this talent THAT special. Even more so when such runes were given to all the Talons of the Blackhawkes. Though, that still was only a select few.

Technicalities aside, Drix was still a shadow when compared to the rest of the population of Ugilon. At that given moment, he was perched atop a rather tall building near where a commotion was being made about a 'hunt' of some sort. His tapered ears perked, Drix listened for a moment before deciding that this might be something to look into. Work as of late was being scarce, even for someone of his stature within the guild. Of course, if he REALLY wanted to, he could take an easy job, but he was being generous and allowed the lesser assassins have a chance at promotion. Or, more feasibly, gold.

After he was certain that the crier had said all he was going to say on the subject, Drix hopped down the building and into the alleyway it created with a neighboring one. No one saw him, of course. Few ever did. Fewer lived to speak of it. For now, he would sign his name on the roster, cloaked and hidden from the prying eyes of the local gossips. No one would be the wiser.

There were two names already on the sheet. One elfish. One human. He didn't stand out that much, then. He went by the alias "Huron Thane". A good assassin never gave his true name on a public parchment.

That was just good business.

[The Imposter]

Agatha's glare quickly met with the mule's as it she moved Rhys behind her slightly. How naive she had been, to walk into the mule's line of sight. Instantly the stories flooded her mind of the astute tuning into the realm of spirit that mules had. Stories of them saving the lives of their riders as angelic beings stood before them. So of course this one had eyed Rhys' spirit within the broom. Agatha wondered for a moment what his soul had looked like but quickly dismissed the thought as she covered her face with the cloth wraps.

She pulled out a few gold coins and dropped them by the vendor as she picked up an apple, tipping her hat in gratitude she turned her back to the mule once again reveling Rhys to it. She thought of trying to make her way through the crowd and escape but fell short and turned back to the mule and its rider. She made her way towards them and gave the apple to the lady who had lost hers.

'I didn't purposely mean to eavesdrop but I was so close, you can have this one.'

Agatha's gaze hadn't left that of the mule's and she leaned in towards it petting it softly. She turned to its owner and spoke quietly trying her best to not let her usual seductive tone ooze out with her words.

'Quite the companion you have there mister. What's its name?'

[Wattz]

“My Lord, we’d do well to leave the poor girl alone,” Quent said, suppressing the haste in his tone. He wanted this stroll to be as brief as possible, and of course Kaleo would be the one to run into someone to talk to… with a tail. Quent raised a subtle eyebrow at the slight girl named Trixie, though he lowered it to give her a small, polite smile.

“My apologies miss, but we really must get going.

Just then the sound of the Crier rang through the crowd. Quent knew about the King’s orders to have volunteers go on a beast hunt. He just didn’t know it was planned for today. “Come along, My Lord. Let’s make this stroll a short trip.”

---

“It’s fine,” Basil said as she took a hold of the reigns. “There’s plenty of others to choose from. ‘Sides, you should probably be apologizing to the stand owner.” Basil pointed towards the grumpy looking woman before them, the scowl on her face ready to turn the moment into a full-blown yelling match.

Sighing, Basil tied the mule’s reigns to a nearby pole, a temporary fix. Just as she was about to begin picking a new one, a woman came by and offered her another.

”I didn’t purposefully mean to eavesdrop but I was so close, you can have this one.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but it’s not necessary,” Basil said with a smile. She took the apple and placed it in her satchel. She picked out a few more apples, taking care to be deliberate in her movements. Basil handed the stand owner a few gold coins: enough for both the eaten one and her own bushel.

“There you are! No harm done,” Basil said with a customary signal of religious devotion. She turned to the reigns and untied them, offering them back to the young man. “May The Creator’s grace be with you... Fall…Fallalen, was it? And… I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name but…”

Just then her head perked up in the direction of the Crier’s calls. Basil had been waiting all day for the Crier to make the announcement, stumbling around in the marketplace practicing patience. Her trainer had insisted that she take the opportunity to spread the word of The Creator to distant lands, just as many others of her rank were going in their own directions.

“Sorry, but I gotta go…. Here you are,” she said as she turned to untie the reigns and handed them back to ‘Fallalen.’ “The notice board awaits! Can’t leave the King waiting.” Basil was beginning to feel restless. She turned around with her satchel full of apples and ran off towards the town square.

There were already a few people who’d signed their names, one of which had just finished signing his own. Basil duly noted them, a dark elf, a blonde elf, and a roguish-looking man. When she looked to the notice board, their names didn’t stick for long. She approached and signed her own name, ‘Basil Wallace.’

[Cthulhu]

A spell gone wrong? Kaleo hadn't begun his studies in how to defend against magic or fight a rogue mage, he didn't know someone could "modify" themselves with magic. This was surely a question to propose to Master Shandal, he'd have the answers for it. Still the sight was fascinating, to the point he actually almost tried to get one last look before she hid it away, to passerbys it probably looked like he was just trying to be an obvious and blatant look at her backside.

He quirked a curious brow when she asked him his name. Obviously she was a stranger to these parts. "You're not from around here are you?" he asked for a moment in return. "Ah but I forget my place. My name is Kaleo Selbrech, son to Delus Selbrech." Kaleo fancied himself a ladies man, whether this was true or not had truly yet to be seen as half the time he was dragged away by Master Shandal or a guard while the girls were left giggling at the sight. "I'd be more than happy to show you around the city if you're not familiar with it yet."

“My Lord, we’d do well to leave the poor girl alone. My apologies miss, but we really must get going."

"Nonsense Sir Quent, if you want to make this a short trip then that's just what we'll do." Kaleo had very clearly heard the Crier as well. He had to move now or this pesky knight was going to keep him distracted or pull him back to the castle before he could even get within eyeshot of the city square. "Let's begin!" He grabbed hold of Trixie's hand quickly and pulled her behind him as he bolted in the direction of the town circle. He made his way past several people as undoubtedly Sir Quent caught onto the idea by now and was surely giving chase. He bumped and accidentally knocked a few people over, and nearly missed shoulder checking a mule, that was standing at an apple vendor, in the back side.
~~~~

When he finally got to the town square he stood in front of the table with the sign sheet for the hunt, a few others had signed up already. Perfect he'd be with a group, hopefully they were all capable hands. He grabbed the pen from the table and went to scratch his name down just as the Crier protested.

"My Lord! You surely can not sign up for this venture! You're father will be furious!"

"Nonsense, I can write, therefore I can sign my name can I not! Let my father be angry, he doubts I'm capable yet!" hot headed and working off of sheer impulse. He thought he was ready, was sure he was ready. He knew the fundamentals, it was a beast they were going after, not a cold hearted trained killer!

He scratched his name down, he'd have to allowed to attend, modification of names to the document was punished by imprisonment. He'd just have to hope his Master had taught him enough with his words to be able to convince his father to let him go.

[Car'mael]

"Thank you, ma'am! Creator's blessings to you, too! And it's Faran!" he called after Basil brightly, even as he twined Bess's reins around his hand tightly to keep her from further mischief, cheered by his good fortune at Basil's rescue from further equine calamity and generosity in paying for the eaten apple.

Blushing faintly, he added quiet apologies to the stall-owner, and assurances that he would have paid regardless for the mule's destruction.

'Quite the companion you have there mister. What's its name?'

Finally, the young Bardling turned his attention fully back to Agatha, having not missed her generous offering to Basil on his own behalf. Admittedly, he dealt with the other two first, but that was because she somehow tended to tie his tongue up. Though now she had wrapped her face up, but he still could tell from having had that quick glimpse that she was... beautiful, for lack of a better word. And talking to him. And... waiting? Oops.

When Faran could get his jaw working, he finally offered, "Ah... she's... she's Bess, ma'am... She... er... startles easy... kind of like me, I guess... Thank you for so generously offering your own apple--this mess is all my fault, for being such a novice at handling Bess here. I haven't traveled much, really, but then, neither has she. I'm Faran, from the village of Fallenleaves..." He stopped to swallow a suddenly-dry throat, in hopes of not squeaking if he continued. "Um... are you going to sign up for the hunt, too?"

So much for having a legenary bardic skill of a silver tongue. Silver or no, it was useless when tongue-tied.

He glanced after Basil, wanting to hurry after and add his own name to the list, especially as he heard new commotion there between the Crier and someone younger, but his eyes slipped back to the lovely lady holding the broom, unable to take his attention away from her yet. She was utterly captivating, somehow. He could drool at her all day... Er, no, that was probably rude. Well, stare, then. Mmm, no that would likely also be rude. Follow? Well, then he'd be a stalker, right? For the life of him, the young Bardling couldn't figure out what to do about such a lovely lady. No doubt she was out of his league, but he hoped he could indulge in her presence a bit more, at least... somehow.

[Koti~]

“It’s nice to meet you Kaleo Selbrech.” She said and turned her gaze to the guard nearby. Trixie couldn’t tell why, but it seemed that the man was annoyed at her. She gave them, both a charming smile, flashing her pointed teeth a bit before she was yanked out of her smile and off her feet, Kaleo having grabbed her hand. She somehow managed to stay standing as the man wound his way through the crowd, passing by an apple stall and some odd travelers. Trixie’s attention was drawn for an instance to the woman with a broom on her back, more to the broom than anything. She blamed it on her training and the rush, but she could feel a small hum of life coming from the broom.

That would just be silly for a broom to have a soul… but again, this is a strange town Trixie thought, before begin forcibly reminded that she was being tugged in another direction. She continued with the man, weaving their way through the crowd, before stopping in front of a signup sheet. She glanced down and saw a few names before Kaleo, who added his own name in a scrawl, the quill scratching against the pavement.

“Phew, none of the fathers have joined” Trixie said, before covering her mouth with a gasp, a bit worried. She glanced around and looked back at the sheet, before picking up the quill and signing her name. It seemed like a good chance to earn a bit of gold, and would help pay. As well, she could afford staying another day.

“So… I think someone offered me a date around town” She said charmingly, pulling herself close to Kaleo. Trixie thought it would be an interesting day, to be escorted around town with such an energetic man, and would annoy the guard some more, her energetic nature bubbling to the surface.

[Fairby]

There were some unsettling presences in this crowd, making the small hairs on the back of her neck prick. Her hand longed for her orb, but her arms remained neatly folded beneath her cloak, which could have very well been stone. She did not move, but watched, listened, trying to piece each sight together while making future plans. Her current one was becoming more and more complicated, particularly now that the young woman had glued herself to the target. What was further frustrating was that silly list and its purpose, which the boy had happily given himself to. Surrounded by a party of odd strangers… in what possible way could it further her goal?

Lavendiel had come to learn, yes, but there was particular intrigue in the rumors she had caught of The Order of Magi. The members of the caravan had not known much of it, but even the general statements were alarming. It seemed a group of mortals was monopolizing knowledge of magic among their people, a rather strange and selfish action in so delicate a kingdom. The high elves had always been generous in the sharing of knowledge among their people—balance and control was key in so chaotic a realm. She could not believe that such isolation the order made for itself could further its knowledge of magic, but it did give them incredible power over both the magical and plain members of their society.

Yet there had been no visible turmoil since Lavendiel had entered the town. She had thought she might find members of the order by their strong magical auras, but there was promising power everywhere. Even in the annoying crowd, there was distinct energy present. How common were these members of the order, and what was their need for exerting so much control? If they had anything to do with the government of this land… how far would their need for regulation reach? It was a distant, yet potential threat the mage had known nothing of before she had left her home.

Was it best to learn from watching or by direct inquiry? Lavendiel was not keen on exposing herself, but… well, the fellow was young and perhaps a bit overly eager. He had been interested in the slightest manifestation of magic, and seemed easy enough to manipulate. If he was as important as she believed, he could at least acknowledge or relieve her worries about such a strong mortal kingdom attempting to control the magic of other realms. His youth and position would offer truth she was sure would be legitimate. After that, she could turn her focus to learning more of the potential this order had.

But such was easier said than done. The boy still had his guard and now the odd girl, and an entire square of bustling people between them. Her hearing could only reach so far with all the noise, and her scrying presence would not likely go unnoticed for long.

Slowly, the high elf’s eyes went to the tacked paper, glaring at it as if it were an offensive insect. It could very well be the most discreet way of moving closer to the royal young man, and the crier had encouraged members of the order to come. As much as she wished to remain distant from all the potential of rabble and danger, it seemed the trite journey would be her best chance to obtain information.

The shadow moved. Dark, watery blue flowed back into the street, tall and silent among the crowd of customers and merchants. Lavendiel moved directly for the paper, saying nothing as her delicate hand took the quill and inked her name beneath the others. Only her first name was present, and she moved quickly away to avoid any possible attention. Of course, binding herself to these others that seemed to attain attention rather quickly would make further attempts at such considerably more difficult, but she hoped it would be worthwhile.