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Thread: [M] Sanctuary: ADD - The First Eclipse (IC)

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    Default [M] Sanctuary: ADD - The First Eclipse (IC)

    This is rated M for blood and gore, heavy violence, language, nudity, sexual content, dark sexual themes, and contradiction of religious beliefs that may be considered blasphemy outside of creative context.





    Interlude: The King of Destruction




    3 years ago...


    "Stop him! Protect the Inquisitor!!"

    A young man's voice shouted before the sound of splattering blood echoed in that tragic night.

    The encampment was besieged by a large force of Lycans and the sounds of combat ricocheted across the area. The templar squadron was ambushed in the middle of the night by the Lycan pack of nearly forty Beasts, which was lead by a mysterious yet deadly stranger.

    He strolled down the encampment and carried two items. In his right hand, he held a large two-handed claymore with ease. The weapon was stained with the blood of fallen templars.

    In the other hand, he casually carried the decapitated head of a young man. Blood still profusely dripped from the stump of the neck and the man's facial expression was forever frozen in terror. Lifeless green eyes stared out from the corpse's head, his skin completely pale and his jaw was dropped from disbelief. This was the head of the squadron's Senior Templar.

    The stranger... the monstrosity known as Argon... casually glanced around the raging battlefield. The few surviving templars were doing their best to fight off the Lycan beasts. Argon saw one of his children murdered from a stab wound through the heart, but quickly his slayer's throat was torn off by another Beast.

    Argon turned his head forward and nodded with satisfaction. The air smelled quite delicious from the scent of fresh, spilled blood. Now, he just needs to hunt down the Inquisitor. The two of them already earlier fought each other, and Argon easily achieved victory by stabbing the Inquisitor in the stomach and mortally wounding him.

    The Inquisitor was forced to retreat and a raven-black haired woman quickly came to his aid. Another couple of templars threw themselves in between Argon and the retreating Inquisitor, sacrificing themselves to his onslaught - in hopes they can save their beloved leader.

    Foolish templars... Argon's golden eyes gleamed with malice. They shall all fall. They shall all gaze into the eyes of Death himself.



    "Damn it... I'm not going to make it, Elena..."

    "Sir, with all due respect, you need to shut up," the younger Templar growled in frustration. She was holding up the severely injured Inquisitor, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as the two managed to retreat from the onslaught which took many lives of their squadron members.

    The Inquisitor's other hand was pressed tightly against his abdomen wound which bled profusely, he was losing too much blood. Elena herself had three deep claw marks across her left cheek, her shoulder bled from a Lycan bite, but she was also covered with the blood of slain Scourge Beasts.

    "Elena... you need... to get out of here," the Inquisitor managed to breathe out, struggling to get the words out. "You need... to warn... Sanctuary. You need... to get back... to your family."

    Elena remained silent, ignoring her superior's orders. As far as she knew, the two of them were the only remaining survivors. A large Lycan force, about forty of them, suddenly ambushed the squadron at their overnight encampment. However, the worst part was the person... the creature... that lead the Lycan forces. The stranger severely injured the Inquisitor with ease in combat. He was no human or even a Scourge Beast... he had to be a Daemon.

    "Shit," Elena cursed under her breath, now wishing she had the sight of a Knight-class templar in this dark night. Otherwise, she would have noticed long ago that they were approaching a damn cliff. The cliff overlooked a rushing river in the Borderfields, it was about a 50-feet drop.

    "Elena... put me down," the Inquisitor sighed heavily, before closing his eyes. "Sanctuary needs you... Isaac and... Kaitlyn... they need you..." he whispered quietly and Elena's heart sank. She was fighting back the tears because she knew these were her commander's last words.

    "Sir..." Elena responded quietly, before obeying his last command and gently laid him down against the ground. The life of a templar was never easy... she just could never imagine witnessing the deaths of several comrades and even her commanders within a single night. "May God rest your soul, now, sir," she bowed her head respectfully, pausing for a few seconds to collect herself.

    He was right, though. She needed to return to the city and warn everybody of the Lycan threat and the Hybrid... or Daemon... that lead it.

    "Now that's a pity," a man's deep voice suddenly interrupted the quietness, and Elena's body stiffened and her blood ran cold. She didn't even smell the scent of a Scourge Beast... it was too human. The templar woman stood up and faced the speaker... Argon.

    "I was personally hoping to finish him off rather than let the night quietly take him," the man smiled deviously, revealing his sharp canines. "I suppose you will have to do." He took a menacing step forward, carrying both the blade in his right hand and the... Elena's stomach nearly rose to her throat, she could practically taste the nausea. He held the decapitated head of the Senior Templar, blood still dripping from the stump.

    "Monster," Elena breathed out, before her widened eyes returned to the stranger's golden gaze. Her heart beat frantically as she weighed her options. She had little chance to beat this man in combat, he was in a completely different league than the templars or even the Inquisitors. She could try and retreat, but had a gut feeling that she would not escape alive.

    Damn it.... damn it all!

    There was a thud as the head dropped to the ground, rolling slightly and leaving behind a faint trail of blood in the dark. Elena's body shook with a foreign feeling... fear. She rarely experiences this - Elena has been known to be one of the bravest templars in the Order and never cowers before a fight... she never cowers from any man of the dirty political hierarchy either. She speaks her mind and never shies away from any situation.

    Yet, tonight... she knew it would be her last night.

    Her eyes filled with anger. If this is the end, she had to fight with everything in her power. She pulled out her blade from its scabbard, pointing it towards the man. Determination flared - even if she was going down, she will show this monster the fury of her entire squadron.

    "Ah, there's some fight in you after all, I like it," the golden-eyed stranger chuckled.

    Lord... this is my final prayer to you, Elena scowled at her opponent's words. Please watch over Isaac and Kaitlyn. Isaac, bless his heart for dealing with me for the past few years... she managed to make a small smile even under the dire circumstances. But let him know that I truly love him and I am grateful for the years I've been with him. Please give him Your strength, he will need it in the upcoming days.

    "I hope you will at least be a better challenge than your weak Senior Templar, he was a bit of a disappointment," the Hybrid commented, taking another step forward and raising up his own blade.

    Kaitlyn... you have the heart of your father and the spirit of your mother. I'm sorry I won't be around for much longer, but I know you will grow up to be a strong and beautiful woman. Become a better person than I ever was. Lord... I pray that You guide my daughter in Your everlasting light.

    Forgive me, Isaac. Forgive me, Kaitlyn. I love the both of you. Stay strong for me...
    Elena had to blink back the tears, feeling the emotions beginning to overwhelm her.

    "Now, templar, shall we dance?" the abomination challenged, and then he rushed forward.

    "Yes... prepare yourself!" Elena shouted before rushing towards the monster. Both of their blades swung, and quickly the onslaught of the night ended...




    Present Time

    Argon put down the helmet of the Masked Inquisitor down on a wooden desk. He was still wearing Masked Inquisitor's suit of armor after a brief meeting with the Divine King, before he soon returned to his own quarters.

    "What a long day," Argon muttered to himself before turning around and walking across his living room. He had his own private area within the high castle of Sanctuary - where nobody intrudes his space... usually.

    Argon suddenly paused before turning around to face a painting hung on a wall. He approached the painting, briefly admiring it. It portrayed the days of the Ancient Era - where the landscape was vast and beautiful and full of life. Nothing like the barren wasteland like it was now with the Borderfields and the Plaguelands.

    "When will you Assassins ever learn?" Argon suddenly questioned aloud. Then suddenly, like a viper, his hand raised up and grabbed the thin air next to him. Except it wasn't thin air.

    The air shimmered briefly before an Assassin was revealed - who was using the Chevalier-class ability of camouflage. The assassin made choking sounds as Argon easily lifted him up from the ground with his one hand. The assassin attempted to kick the Hybrid, but to no avail

    Argon's face turned to the Assassin - who caught his golden gaze. The young Assassin was filled with terror - he could swear he was looking into the eyes of a Daemon Lord itself.

    "You smell too much like a damn Scourge Beast," Argon simply commented, before there was a sickening snapping snap and a loud thud. The lifeless body of the assassin laid on the ground - yet another victim that needed to disappear.

    Argon sighed before glancing back at the painting, gazing at the magnificent sun at the corner of the portrait.

    Another eclipse is coming... I can feel it in my bones... Argon sternly stared at the sun, already imagining it to be a black hole instead. We best hurry and make progress.

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    Chapter 2



    Yet again, it was another rainy day.

    A hooded young woman approached the gates of Sanctuary, leading a small caravan towards the entrance. She paused in her steps briefly before gazing up at the cloudy sky, her dark eyes slightly gleaming with mischief.

    She resumed her approach before being quickly halted by the militants guarding the gates. "Halt! Identify yourself," one of the guards called out in a firm voice, tightening the hold of his spear just in case of any trouble. He didn't like the looks of the caravan.

    The woman's crimson-red lips formed a small smirk and black locks spilled from the insides of her hood. Finally, she lowered her cover before revealing herself.

    "Inquisitor Cox?!" the two guards jolted upright and quickly saluted the woman, respecting the customs and courtesies of their military order. "My apologies, ma'am, I didn't realize you would be back so soon from your trip," the guard quickly stammered out.

    The Inquisitor only let out a mischievous giggle and a slight shake of her head. "No worries, militants, always better to be vigilant than have a knife in your back, right?" she questioned aloud. "Now, mind letting me through?" she raised up an eyebrow.

    "Umm..." the only guard looked at the caravan and a couple other hooded people leading it. He could only assume that they were templars working for Inquisitor Cox, but he had an iffy feeling about the contents of the caravan. "We have a strict protocol to examine all caravans that enter the city, ma'am. My apologies, but you know how Inquisitor Darkwood can be strict?"

    "It's classified material," Inquisitor Cox quickly stated firmly. "Now, again, mind letting me through?"

    Both of the guards looked at each other, unsure on what to do and extremely uncomfortable with the situation. "Uh... Inquisitor... we really should-" one of the guards began, before he was quickly cut off.

    "I said... its classified contents, militants," Inquisitor Cox stated with a bit more fire this time. Her dark eyes briefly flared up, apparently losing her patience with the guards. "Now, for the final time, are you going to let me through?"

    Shit.... Both of the guards thought to themselves in sync, their hearts dropping as they realized they will soon receive the ire of the Inquisitor if they don't comply with her. "Y-yes, m-ma'am, of c-c-course!" One of them quickly stuttered, and both of them stepped out of the Inquisitor's way.

    "Thank you," Inquisitor Cox's demeanor quickly changed back to her mischievous expression. She began to walk by them, "I am most gracious," she gave them both a wink before walking through with her caravan quickly following behind.



    "Well, everyone, here's your new home!" Inquisitor Cox gleefully stated as she opened up the caravan and allowed its occupants to walk out. Trest Valencia, Myka Rosen, Sophia Adams, Anna Catriona, Matthew Tannhauser, and Orfiel were several of the occupants from within the caravan. Their transport stopped right behind an abandoned inn, which was a recently bought property of the Guild.

    The abandoned inn was located near the edge of the slums district, where hardly anyone would recognize the former templars. The Guild waited for almost a month before the Wanted posters were pulled down and replaced with other criminals instead. It would still not be wise to stray too far from the district. Who knows if a passerby could find one of the former templars familiar...

    "Go on and make yourselves at home in here," Esther Cox pointed towards the back door, where the people can walk into. The inn would be their base of operations for the time being. The next couple of weeks will be particularly busy, especially with the upcoming Pilgrimage.

    "While you all are settling in here, try to... fix up your appearances a bit," Inquisitor Cox stated. "Like dear ole' Tannhauser over here, he hardly looks recognizable with that silly goatee of his," Esther pointed towards the older templar, who simply scowled in response.

    "Dalton, mind being a dear and supervising these kids for today?" the Inquisitor glanced back at another hooded figure, who simply responded back by pulling down his own cover and nodding his head.

    "I'll do what I can to make sure they don't cause too much trouble, Inquisitor," Gregory stated, before his eyes fell to the former templars. He turned to the other hooded assassin, Quentyn Aybara, and beckoned him to follow and assist.




    "Everyone is performing the required standard," Templar Marcella Hoefler reported to Archon Denaris. The two of them sat in her office, and Marcella debriefed on the completion of everyone's progress.

    "Templars Ezra and Swift especially are performing an outstanding job. The Divine Lady herself personally complimented their effectiveness with cleaning up the streets from the criminals and sending them to Inquisitor Darkwood's dungeons.

    "Templars Letum, Kiera, and Athame have returned from their latest efforts from the Borderfields. They were merely sent to check up the town of Levi and ensured they still have plenty of protection for the town. They've also returned with the latest herbs grown by the town, which should help out our alchemists."

    "Finally, Templars Volkov and myself are still waiting on orders from the Divine King. We haven't received our first assignment yet, so it's been a quiet month for us. However, we have been proactive, Selenada especially have been training in combat to improve her skills. We are getting a little 'antsy' over the Divine King's quietness, though," Marcella finished her report.

    It is still rather surreal that she is the appointed leader for their small group - the designated Senior Templar. Still, she only had a small understanding on the amount of tasks both her former Senior Templar and Inquisitor had to accomplish on a daily basis. Fortunately, Archon Denaris has been more than a helping hand so far. Still, Marcella can only appreciate her former commanders, especially Isaac, with balancing the duties of a superior, a templar, and personal life.

    "Well, all of these accomplishments are always good to hear," Amelia nodded while continuing to write down the notes of their meeting. "I'll make of note for the Divine King, but from my understanding, he should have a task for you within the next couple of days. Along with the Most Noble and the Divine Lady."

    The Archon finished up with her scribbled before dropping her pen and glancing up at Marcella, "They should take advantage of the break they have now," the Archon advised. "From my understanding, the next couple of weeks will be rather busy. There are rumors of a planned uprising for the next Pilgrimage. We don't have any further details, but best prepare yourselves for the unexpected," she recommended.

    At this point and time - after everything Marcella and the rest of her squadron members have been through - they no longer need the last part of Amelia's advice.

    Templar Hoefler strained a smile at her, "Yes, m'lady."
    Last edited by RedKayne; 06-17-2017 at 05:40 PM.

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    "Are you this is where we are to do it, Iago? Right in the district square?"

    Ten men clothed in rags huddled under roof of a stable, hiding among the wagon horses and cattle. This small city square stood at the junction where the slums and Sanctuary's trendy metropolitan streets met. Slum lords and the rich would mingle among the busy market stalls, beggars pleaded for coin under the shade of a statue of some bygone king, and common man drove wagons to and fro. But with the rains trundling in from the horizon, not a soul traveled through. Not even the merchants would open in the down pour.

    "Trust in Iago, brother. This is where we must do it, for all great things start small," Iago said in hushed whispers. He crouched behind the stable walls, one eye peering through a spacing in the wooden planks and a hand petting the pony next to him, to comfort it as to not cause a stir. He knew his men were getting anxious, stuck in a damp stable with the animals and their shit, but he applauded their patience. They would not have to wait any longer, because their quarry came into Iago's view.

    "Our prey approaches..."

    Rancorous laughter mingled with the patter of rainfall, soon followed by puddles splashing and the clamor of chain mail. Seven templars bearing the mark of Inquisitor Darkwood marched through the square, as Iago expected they would. Normally militants would patrol the streets, but every so often a squad from Darkwood's unit took to the streets. To blow some steam as they called it. Iago raised a hand, fingers curling into fist with the index extended.

    The nine other men nodded, grip on their cudgels and pick handles tightening. They knew that hand signal well, a common gesture among cartel soldiers that a hit was about to go down. Iago pulled something from under a haypile, his arquebus. The spy poked the barrel through the spacing and cocked back its hammer.

    "NOW!"

    Iago fired his gun, hitting a templar in the leg as his men spooked the beasts in the stable. Horses and cattle stampeded through the square, right into the path of the templars. Templars leaped out of the way of the stampede save for the one Iago injured, who died screaming, trampled by a tide of hooves.

    "TEMPLAR SCUM!"

    "DIE DIE DIE!"

    "DEATH TO THE ORDER!"

    Iago and his men charged out of the stables, already upon the templars still reeling from the shock of stampede. A templar drew his sword, cutting into two of Iago's men and ran his blade through the stomach of a third. Before he could slay his forth, a dagger embedded itself in his neck, courtesy of Iago. None of the other templars were so quick to retaliate, Iago's men making quick work of them with a rush of flailing clubs. Soon blood mingled with mud, and just as quickly was washing away in the down pour.

    Iago tore his dagger out of the throat of the dead templar, and said to his men, "Anyone injured?!"

    "Jamel and Uras are cut bad, Llamar is dead." One agent said, delivering a knock out blow to a crawling templar. Iago nodded, pointing to the injured men.

    "Take them back to the safe house, dispose of Llamar's body somewhere discreet."

    A minute passed and the square was quiet again. Horses and cows milled about in the rain, and seven templars lay sprawled on the ground. Two dead, the rest beaten to an inch of their lives.
    Last edited by IronQuill; 06-23-2017 at 10:11 PM.
    Hilariously derailing one-liner

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    When Inquisitor Cox had approached Big O with an invite back into Sanctuary the man was apprehensive. He had sworn never to return to that damned city without his own army set to bring the walls down. He and his fighters were doing more good in the borderlands than he could ever do in this giant eyesore of a city. But the False Templars and guards were getting closer and closer to finding their base of operations in the mountains and he did not wish to endanger the innocents by hiding out in one of their towns.

    Sometimes the best place to hide is under the nose of the wolf hunting you. Orfiel had scattered his band to the wind telling them all to work as independently as they can until he can send them word with new orders. The ride in the caravan had been silent and cramped, he knew everyone around him, but he hadn't seen or spoken to any of them since the day they burned Issac in memorial. He was thankful for it, but a tickling urge in the back of his stoic mind kept trying to force him to reconnect with his former friends. Now wasn't the time for getting mushy though, a bleak war was ahead of them fighting the monster from the inside out. To quiet his mind the big man pulled out one of the three holy books he's always carried with him and looked through the familiar passages. There was very little light in the wagon, but the Avenger had memorized every passage and word of the holy books. Keeping them and occasionally leafing through the worn pages was a comforting gesture in a world lacking such things.

    The big man hmmed softly to himself as the Inquisitor bluffed her way through the gates of Sanctuary. Bluffs and intrigue seemed to be the favored methods of his new allies, makes senses when you think about it. Even now though Orfiel wasn't a fan of lying, honesty is the only path towards true righteousness even if that road ends in your death. At least then you can walk freely amongst the Lord and his Angels. With a soft grumble O shook the thoughts from his head and waited for the group to reach it's destination. The carts rumbled to a stop and the doors were open allowing the cold dank stink of the slums distinct to flood the once almost cozy interior of the wagon Orfiel was seated in. He immediately got a noseful of the retch inducing aroma of a local sewer outlet and suppressed a gag before exiting the cart and studying the world around him the old inn in particular.
    "By the Lord above." Was all the large man said before entering the Inn shaking rain droplets from his broad armored shoulders.

    The inside was only slightly better than the outside, but at least it was dry. With some work they may be able to make this place livable, he assumed that would be for later though. The Mistress Inquisitor jested about "fixing" themselves up, he only had an incline as to what she meant. The logical part of his mind would argue that even with a month's passage of time they could be recognized by many people. Looking in a nearby mirror Orfiel the Avenger studied his appearance even as dinged and dirty as it was his Black Crusader Armor was still a distinct work of beauty and not something your average man would own. The life of constant running, fleeting meals, and late nights have had their way with the Crusader's physical appearance. He had lost twenty pounds, and his face was rife with the bristly black beard of a Yeoman. A new set of scars covering his left cheek and over his right eye distort his features further, in the clothes of a rough workman he could be any number of rough handed wretches that call the Slums home. Even his large axe would add to the guise. He wasn't completely positive what the woman meant by fixing themselves up, but for now Big O would simply place his bucket helm on the dirty bar of the inn and sit himself down taking a pull on the water skin he kept at his side.


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    Jerris stared from the rooftop at the squirming templars below in the square, the details of their forms masked by a sheet of rain. They were certainly badly beaten; their futile attempts to stand and the occasional limb jutting in uncomfortable directions served as testaments to that. Several were already dead, others dying from a fight not long ago. It took a lot more than a simple street brawl to kill one templar, let alone two and possibly more. No, this was a precise attack, an action of clear intention.

    Someone wanted templars dead.

    The white-haired templar crouched down along the rain-filled gutter as he peered down at the corpses, focusing his attention on the armor of the men and women. It was a little difficult with one eye now, his other one gone with its hole covered by a leather patch, but Jerris still had little trouble watching what happened in Sanctuary. Between jobs for Letharos he had taken to patrolling the city, looking and listening for anything related to the enemy inside. The stench of the Scourge permeated Jerris's nostrils ever since the coverup of the hybrid and the Lycan swarm, a scent without a source that infested his mind with suspicion. One month had passed with no luck, his only ally remaining as his primary suspect in the infested theocracy of Sanctuary. It was certainly frustrating, but if the answers were simple then they would've emerged already.

    Several of the men below were bleeding out, their wounds far too grievous for their souls to bear. If someone didn't help them soon then most of them would certainly perish, more templars lost "serving" their citizens from inside the city walls. Jerris could certainly call some guards from the next district, but whoever killed the templars could still be watching. If he helped the templars then he lost his cover, and even then they appeared so badly beaten that they would never fight Scourge again, let alone walk.

    Plus, these were Darkwood's soldiers. Jerris was hardly bothered by justice, but this was all but deserved.

    Straightening from the edge of the gutter, he turned his back on the dying templars. Perhaps these attackers sensed the corruption of Sanctuary as he did, and this was their form of taking action against it. Hardly an effective means of acting. Even if they're Darkwood's, they still fought the Scourge. With a flare of his cloak, he dropped from the rooftop on the other side. Letharos should know about this.

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    The last of that golden liquid was drained from her cup, trickling down her throat. She hated this city. She hated this tavern. She hated everything except for the silence that was wrapping itself around her. Her room had been ransacked. She had left it with six months keep, it should have been kept in her name. But it seemed that someone had already gone through the little belongings that she had. Sophia had growled as she kicked her belongings aside, she was only there for one thing. It hadn’t been touched, it had remained tight between the slats of her bed. Her father's prayer book. One with his writing, the same one whose pages curled around his fingertips when he read them to her.

    The book sat pressed against her ribs now. One ale. That was all. She didn’t want to arouse any more attention to herself. There already was another familiar face in this tavern. Two blacklisted Templars did not make for a good tale. She tugged her hood back up as she removed her feet from the table. Sophia flicked her eyes up to the perch where Myka was sitting, she wouldn’t have sat with her...but it was pleasant to know someone else liked the silence and solitude. A small nod was her only gift to her as she headed for the door. She gave a final glance to the man behind the bar and headed for the door. The tavern stunk of smoke and sweat and she was craving the ‘fresh’ air. The door slammed behind her and she dug her hands deep into her pockets.

    Myka’s eyes followed Sophia as she came in. Cold, calculating, and frankly - rather annoyed. Was there nowhere she could just get away from everyone and have a goddamn drink? She thought she had found the place, but she was obviously wrong. Being alone didn’t draw that much attention to herself but them both being there did put her on edge. Her cloak hid well the crossbow on her back and she never went anywhere without her trusted daggers, but something in the air changed when Sophia entered. Taking another drink of whiskey, her eyes never stopped scanning the room. It was only moments after the other Templars entrance, that a man who with dark hair and beard, and a sharp nose slinked like a rat out of the tavern, his drink still nearly full.

    Slowly she rolled her shoulders back and forth to relieve the tension. There was something in the man’s eyes when he left. As if he was watching his back, or waiting for something to happen. It definitely had her more wary as she sat, her knuckles turning white with how she squeezed the glass in her hands. The last thing she wanted was trouble, she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

    It wasn’t fifteen minutes before the man returned, still looking over his shoulder. As she focused in on him, his hands seemed to be visibly shaking. The only thing that broke her gaze was the nod she saw toward her from her peripheral vision from the fiery Templar called Sophia. Lowering her head she acknowledged the girl for brief second before her gaze turned back to the man. As Sophia headed for the door, he made a gesture that most would barely notice, but had her immediately on her feet. So much for no trouble. The nose flick was not just an itch he had. She just knew it. Forcing her footsteps to stay slow and casual she made her way down the stairs to the main level of the tavern.

    Myka stepped into the main bar just in the knick of time to see the rat of a man standing to follow Sophia out of the tavern. Reaching out with her left hand she gripped onto his shoulder, enough for him to turn around and give her a dirty look. One that turned into panic and pain as her right hand lifted, holding the dagger that slid ever so easily into his jugular, his blood coating her hands as she let him drop in a lump onto the floor.


    She had barely taken two steps when something felt wrong. A man to her right twitched and nudged his friend. She stopped in her tracks and watched another two men before her stare at her, smug smiles on their faces. Four. She could cope with four. “Sophia” It was a stupid mistake, her eyes flicked to the man who shouted on her. He grinned a toothy smile and nudged the man beside him. The man now had a shit eating grin across his lips, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out two piercing whistles. Six. Six is too much. She couldn’t cope with five at once. Sophia took a small step backward, already the five were starting to corner her. Keeping her eyes on the man she had decided was the ring leader, she slammed her fist against the door three times.

    The men started to call to each other. Sophia slid her hand into her pocket. Her fingers grasping around the handle of one of her knives. She stood her ground, her eyes slowly trailing over the vultures circling her. It was only when she heard the footsteps towards the door that she slid the knife from her pocket and launched it towards the closest man to her. It caught him square in the throat and he fell forward, his knees hitting the dirt and blood spurting from his mouth. Sophia watched them scramble like rats when Myka yanked the door open. Sophia quickly made her way to the corpse that was now flooding the area with bloody muddy water. She pressed her foot into his shoulder and dragged her knife free from his throat. She turned and smirked at the woman. “One. You’re already behind.”

    The three knocks on the door, jolted Myka into a quicker pace. Placing her dagger back in its holster along her thigh, she opened the door just in time to see Sophia yanking her own knife from one of the ambushers’ throat. Cold eyes moving from the girl to the corpse and back again before surveying the party around. They didn’t look so confident now. Six on one Templar was good odds. But two Templars and only five of them left? Not worth it. They took off running in different directions. Myka taking a mental note of their numbers and in what way they went before finally speaking for the first time in the encounter.

    “Nah, I got the rat inside.” She said, holding up her bloodied hand, a slight twinkle in her eyes. Lifting her brows, she gave no more notice before she took off to her right following the way two of them had run. She had to give them a bit of a head start before she began the hunt, right?


    Rat inside. Of course. Before the woman ran off, she caught sight of that twinkle and smirked. Oh, it was on now. Her feet hit harshly against the wet cobbles as she took after the smaller woman. The men had scattered in all directions, hoping that the Templars would go after the others. When Myka took a sharp right, Sophia went left. The men had all been wearing a deep red scarf tucked into their tunics, it was easy to spot them in the sparse crowd. Knowing this area like the back of her hand, she ducked down another short alleyway. Powering down the dingy disgusting alley, she cut off one. She tackled him full force as he had looked behind him. They both hit the cobbles hard and his surprise was all the advantage she needed.

    The dagger that had warmed against her palm was deep in his throat. His blood bubbled from the wound as his hands gripped her shoulders. Sophia pressed her knee into his chest as she twisted the blade, thoroughly severing the artery. His hands dropped to his side and she tugged the blade free, wiping the blood off on her thigh. She tore off the scarf that had been around his neck and tucked it into her waist. She would need it for later, to find out who sent the red rats after her. In the distance, she spotted Myka chasing down some others. Sophia smirked and left the body to rot in the streets like the scum it was. She set off running after Myka as she called out. "THAT'S ANOTHER. I'M WINNING."

    There were three in front of Myka, their glances backward only slowed them as they desperately tried to flee. She stalked them like she stalked prey. Not getting too close but never allowing them out of her enhanced vision. One broke off to the left, but she would get him later.

    THAT'S ANOTHER. I'M WINNING.

    She cursed under her breath. No more playing around. Taking her crossbow from her back, she grabbed one of the few bolts that she carried ‘just in case’ and began to load it. Myka was not just going to even their score. She was going to get ahead with just this one simple shot. She didn’t even need to use the sights on the crossbow as she lifted it, taking a deep breath before shooting the bolt not directed toward one or the other, but in between them. It exploded upon impact with the ground, killing both of the red-scarfed men Myka had been chasing. Turning with a smirk, she looked smugly to Sophia, opening her mouth to let her know she was behind.


    Sophia noticed the crossbow and smirked. Oh, she had watched that woman in action with that thing. She was deadly….almost as deadly as Sophia with a bow. She chuckled to herself as one of three Myka had been hunting split off. Sophia slowed herself down and using her teeth tore at her sleeve. The cold steel of the blade felt pleasant against her skin. Her blood bubbled up and she wrinkled her nose at the man fleeing. He wasn't very good at this fleeing business. He was running in a straight line so she aimed and flung the knife directly into his back. The bloody knife hit its target perfectly. He stumbled and hit the ground.

    Sophia was by his feet when his screams started. His flesh started to corrode and the pain was immense. Sophia sighed as her boot made contact with the handle of the knife. She sunk it in deep, feeling the flesh, muscles and bones slowly slide away from the poison. His screams came to a gurgling end and she crouched down to pry her dagger free. She flicked her eyes up to Myka as the explosion echoed through her ears. She frowned as the smoke cleared. Sophia stood and dragged the blade across her left thigh as the woman gifted her a smug smile. Sophia shook her head as the woman opened her mouth, she beat her to it. "THAT ONLY COUNTS AS ONE." She winked at the woman as she got closer. There was still one left.

    She spun the dagger in her palm and started a brisk jog back towards the tavern. If they had any hope of finding that last bastard of a red rat….it would be best to start there. “Keep your eye out for him.” She muttered to Myka as the tavern came into full view.

    Following behind, Myka argued in her head. No. It definitely counted as two. Didn’t it? She didn’t need the reminder to keep her eye out. As they made their way back to where it all began, she saw red down the same way that Sophia had run originally. Myka didn’t turn her head, but by what she could tell from this distance it was the last one, over top of the second red-scarfed man that Sophia had killed.

    With a nod, Myka indicated that Sophia should go one direction while Myka went the other. Of course, she was leading Soph the wrong way, while she headed for the actual target. She didn’t give time for Sophia to agree as she took off in a run toward the way she saw the man, a slight smirk on her face.

    As she closed the distance, she lifted her crossbow and their eyes met. This was a young man, barely eighteen and his eyes were filled with tears. Myka cared not for his pathetic tears. Maybe he should have thought of that before he joined in a cowardly ambush. Stopping, she kneeled down on one knee, taking her time in pulling out the second bolt she would use today, leaving her only two more on her person.

    Kneeling down on one knee to get to his level, she listened to his pleas.

    “Please, you already killed my father. I’ll never bother you again. I’ll forget your faces. Please. Just let me go.”

    Myka swallowed and took a deep breath. He was so young. As much as others talked, her heart wasn’t completely iced over.

    “Close your eyes and say your prayers. You will be with your fa-”

    Sophia let out a low growl of frustration as she could not see a single shred of red anywhere. She glanced over her shoulder at Myka and watched the woman gesture in one direction. Sophia nodded and turned to head down the direction suggested. She spun her dagger again and kept a keen eye out for that final bastard. Maybe it was the smirk that stopped her. Myka's small smug smirk, Sophia stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder. Of fucking course. There was the final one and Myka was aiming at him already. Sophia started back towards her, her footsteps light on the cobbles as she sped towards them. Myka was kneeling down, the boy didn't even attempt to run. He thought it best to plea to their better nature…hah. She heard his pitiful pleas as she got closer to Myka. How he would forget their faces, not fucking likely.

    Sophia smirked as she noticed how perfect it was. Myka was directly in line with that bastard…and at perfect height. So when she got close enough, she hit Myka's back with her foot and used her as a springboard. Flinging herself gracefully over the crouched woman and plunging her dagger into the boy's chest. Sophia waited until the boy stopped twitching and then closed his eyes so that he could lie beside his father in peace. Sophia dragged her dagger free before pushing herself to stand. The force of her boot on Myka's back had sent her tumbling forward face first into the dirt. Sophia turned back to her fellow blacklisted Templar, looking down at her where she lay and removed the blood from her knife. Sophia winked and gifted the woman a sickeningly smug smile.

    "Word of advice…..You talk too much."

    “You cheated.”
    Last edited by .Karma.; 06-24-2017 at 01:05 AM.


  7. #7
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    Quentyn nodded at Dalton's beckoning, though he did not immediately begin to move. He waited his attention instead transferring to his surroundings; He noted the departure of Myka and Sophia and said nothing. The Inquisitor told them to make themselves at home, perhaps that was what they were doing.

    Turning an eye to the wagons the knights scar pulled at Quentyn's face as he frowned. He had little doubt of their silence, whether purchased or earned; The Inquisitor wouldn't have taken that risk, however the longer they remained positioned as they were the more the locals would speak of it. Deciding to bring it up if it actually becomes a risk Quentyn followed Dalton into the Inn.

    He moved through the common room, nodding briefly to Orfiel at the bar. Aybara took a spot on a wall where he could watch the various exits. Flipping a long abandoned chair over and into position he carefully lowered his frame on to it. It groaned briefly and stabilized. He leaned his Naginata against the wall next to his chair.

    Quentyn, his attention split between the exits and those in the room, absentmindedly picked a longer splinter out of the wall behind him. His thoughts grew more scattered as he sat; Part of him was honored at being tasked to help the Inquisitor, however another ran through the various ways he could have helped those living along the Borderfields. Though in the ends this is supposed to help them all rather than just those he can reach.

    Equally running through his thoughts was what he was to do about his family. His father's home was still in this rot filled city. His brother lived somewhere in Sanctuary as well, running the aspects of the family business Quentyn's father no longer wanted to. The knight briefly wondered which of the heavily guarded caravans his sister was with, and how much of the corruption she had been exposed to.
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  8. #8
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    Letum had finally reached the gates to the city with his group of Templars that were under his command. He had a lot he needed to do now that he was back in the city. First he would need to attend a meeting with the Most Noble, and then he was to meet with Master Raizel on other matters. It was going to be a long day, but he needed to get it started as soon as possible.

    The guards at the gate let the Templars through with no hassle since they were not bringing in anything to the city. From there Letum made his way to the cathedral that the Trinity called home. He knew Elijah would be waiting for him in his study. So he made his way quickly through the streets and into the building. This had become a normal thing for him now. Reporting to the Most Noble after every mission. He personally didn't like this, but he needed to get as close to the man as possible. Earn his trust, so he could get close enough to make his move. Stopping in front of a large oak door with ornate carvings in the wood he knocked on the door. Waiting for his invitation to enter.

    The door quickly opened, revealing the Most Noble standing before Letum. One hand, he held the door open, and the other hand, he held a lit cigar. “Templar Letum,” Elijah paused briefly, taking a puff of his cigar. “A pleasant surprise, I assume you succeeded with your recent assignment, you may come in,” he stated. He opened his door wider, revealing his office to Alexander. There were about 4 other templars in the room, all of Darkwood’s subordinates who were assigned as the Most Noble’s bodyguards.

    Still, it seemed that Elijah already held a sense of trust towards Letum, considering he answered the door without the worry of an assassination attempt. Elijah returned to his desk, taking a seat. Quickly, one of Darkwood’s guards approached Letum, intending to search him for weapons and confiscate them.

    “No need for that,” Elijah waved off the bodyguard, who simply scowled towards the Most Noble. Elijah glanced back at Letum, “I understand that you and your companions still hold a strong distrust towards the Divine Trinity, and I also understand that trust has to be earned. You make take a seat,” he offered, before taking another puff of his cigar. “Would you like a glass of whiskey, by the way?” he offered.

    Not too long after he knocked on the door, it opened to reveal Elijah himself. Letum had a shocked look on his face as he looked the Most Noble in the eyes. Never had he opened the door himself. One of his little bodyguards had always open the door for him. This was definitely a welcome surprise. It seemed that he was beginning to trust Letum even more now. This was a good sign. “Yes. I have completed my mission.” Letum stated as the door opened wider, and Elijah invited him in. Entering the room the door closed behind him, and the Most Noble passed him, just as one of the guards approached him to search him.

    Though he was stopped by the man sitting at the desk. Letum smiled at the guard and took his sword and daggers off. Placing them by the door. “No need for such a sour face.” Letum said his smile never leaving his face. He didn't care for any of Darkwood’s Templars. They were all too big for their britches in his opinion. His smile faded as he started to walk towards the desk.

    Looking at his superior as he was offered a seat. Which he took without saying a word about the mistrust that he and his squadron had for the Trinity. The man offered him a drink and he nodded his head. “That would be sublime. It has been a while since I have had a drink.” Letum said with a slight smile on his face. He looked at the Most Noble as it was time to talk about what he had mentioned earlier. “Trust is earned. You are right, and we are not all as mistrusting. Hell if I heard the story we were telling then I would have thought the same thing. You freed us and kept our heads attached to our body's. For that I am grateful. So I am willing to set aside my distrust, and see where it goes from there.” Luteum said as he nodded his head. He really didn't care about the Trinity at all his loyalty was elsewhere. So he would do and say whatever it took to will this man's trust.

    “Good to hear,” Elijah nodded with approval. He set his cigar down on the ashtray, before opening a drawer and taking out a bottle of wine with two small glasses - very reminiscent to when Elijah shared a drink with Jerris about a month ago… and it turned out that Elijah spiked Jerris’s drink. He began pouring the whiskey into the two glasses, “Whiskey is always good for the soul, don’t you agree?” he questioned Templar Letum.

    “And I’m glad to hear about your gratitude. We’re doing our best to discover the Hybrid’s whereabouts and ensure true justice, but it’s to track a being that is quite… mystical, to say the least,” Elijah stated, before setting down the glass before Letum. “Tell me, I would like to hear your own opinion on what truly happened? Based on my years of experience, templars have a very good gut instinct. Who do you suspect to be behind the conspiracy to have you all executed?”

    “We’re both well aware of the corruption that’s running rampant in this city, and hopefully the Divine Lady and her companions can do something about the problem - but surely there’s a couple of people in this city you suspect to be a part of the conspiracy. What are your thoughts?”

    Watching as the glasses were pulled out, and the whiskey poured into the glass. Letum smiled as he took the cup as he took it in his hand. Taking a sip before he spoke. “I have to agree whiskey is good for the soul, as well as keeping nightmare away.” He said as h nodded his head in agreement then took another sip. He knew better than to down anything that he was unsure of. It is too easy to slip something into a drink like this.

    His face turned serious as his host began to speak on the hunt for the half breed, as well as who he thought was responsible for the massacre, and trying to hide it. Granted he knew that someone within the Order was responsible for such a thing, but as to who he really didn't know. However, he knew that he would need to answer the questions.

    “To tell the truth I don't think this was a random attack. This was a planned strike to weaken our forces. To attack with the numbers we saw that night it was as if they planned to kill everyone except a couple. That way they could place the blame on a Templars uprising rather than the truth.” Letum said as he placed the drink down on the table. Giving a slight sigh as he placed his hands on the table. “One of the reasons I surrendered to the troops that came to arrest us. I wanted to find the person that was responsible for that slaughter. I want to avenge my fellow Templars that fell to that damn half bread.” Letum said as his eyes narrowed. “I will not only find the bastard in these walls that ordered the attack, and that 'Thing’ and make them pay with their lives. Though I have no true idea who is responsible. I know it has to be someone with power. That is the only thing that makes sense.” Letum said angrily as he closed his eyes to calm himself. Thought this was all just an act. He really did have respect for Templar Hill’s, and even though he would have killed him if he needed to he still respected the man.

    Elijah nodded along with Letum’s words, taking large sips of his own drink. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories,” the Most Noble surprising apologized, he could quickly notice that Letum cared for those that passed away… especially Isaac Hills. Which… personally, Elijah found a bit odd considering he’s aware of the type of person Letum is.

    “We will hunt this creature down… but we have to be realistic with our odds of battling this Hybrid. From the reports of yourself and your fellow peers, this Hybrid easily slew our best Templar warrior. How do you think we can be capable of destroying this monstrosity?”

    While he was asking these questions, Elijah opened up another drawer before taking out a folder and putting it on the desk. He clasped his hands together, waiting for Alexander’s response before moving on.

    Letum opened up his eyes and looked up at the man as he apologised, and he quickly regained his senses. He may have went a little overboard with his reaction, but in the end it didn’t really matter. “It is not so much a bad memory. I may not be the most trusted in my squadron because of my fetishes, but I had a high respect for my fellow Templars. I will make the person responsible suffer greatly for his transgressions.” Letum said as he didn’t bat an eye on his threat. He may have been half lying, but he would enjoy making his target suffer. Mainly the Most Noble.

    He smiled at the man as he spoke of their odds. He knew that this creature would be hard to kill in a conventional fight, but there are other ways of dealing with things you can't kill readily. “It is true that no single Templar stands a chance against the half breed. Since he easily took out Inquisitor Caleb there is no way any of us stand a chance, but that doesn't mean that we can’t find a way. I am sure the beast has a weakness.” Letum said in a serious tone. Even he knew being laid back in this conversation was not wise. “If not then we will die defending our home and honor.”

    “Interesting,” Elijah listened to Letum’s words. He didn’t offered any actual insight into defeating the creature, which the Most Noble could sense that practically everybody else would be at a loss, too. “Well, I would rather that we all stay alive and kill the abomination, so let’s hope we can discover his weakness soon. Now, moving along.”

    Elijah opened the folder, revealing lots of paperwork and memorandums, and also a few pictures of Templar Letum. “I like to understand the kind of people that I am working with. I received paperwork that your former commanders collected over the years, so we can come to a better understanding of your strengths and weaknesses. I’m glad you’re self-aware that many people do not trust you yet,” Elijah commenting while adjusting his glasses, turning a few more pages. He also caught Letum’s confirmation of his ‘fetishes…’ or his love to kill.

    “Many would find your thirst to kill rather… unsettling,” Letharos paused, before glancing up at Alexander. “This may be a bit of a personal question, but how do you think this thirst originated?” he questioned with stoic eyes.

    Letum had been wondering why this meeting was a little different than just relaying that he completed his mission, and any news that he might have to relay. Now it made sense. He has received the paperwork that Senior Templar Hills collected on him. Giving a sigh he relaxed a bit and picked up the glass once more drinking the rest of the liquid before setting it down once more. No sense worrying about what was going to happen now. He would need to answer any and all questions thrown his way. Though the first one was a doozie.

    The answer to this was a simple one, but would telling the Most Noble be a wise move? No one knew much about his past other than he grew up in the slums of Sanctuary. He was still smiling as he looked Elijah in the eyes. “You are right that is a personal question. That no one has ever asked before.” He said as he leaned forward a little placing his hands on the desk his smile disappearing. “I didn't always like the sight of blood. However, my family took me out of the city when I was old enough to hold my own. We were going to visit a family friend. Let just say we were attacked by a pack of werewolves. They killed my family in cold blood, but I was able to run away. Though one of those creatures followed me. To make a long story short I was somehow able to kill the werewolf. That is where my lust for killing the beasts came from.” Letum said as he totally lied about why he loved to kill. Though the real reason did stem from his first kill oh so long ago. He leaned back as he waited for the Most Noble respond.

    “Hmm…” Elijah appeared deep in thought from Letum’s words. The Most Noble has lived a relatively long life, longer than most. As such, he considers himself a good reader of people’s body language - and Alexander’s relieved expression did not escape him. Not only that, but the templar’s story did not completely satisfy the Most Noble. Long story made short… there were many details left out. Not only that, but others have also killed Lycans at a young age, but they never became obsessed with the need to kill.

    Then again, loss doesn’t work the same for everyone. Elijah knows that from personal experience. Regardless, he shall not pry deeper into Alexander’s personal story. He should learn soon enough about it - trust is a 2-way street, after all.

    “Well, I thank you for sharing that information, Templar Letum, I know it isn’t the easiest,” Elijah stated, before finishing his own glass of whiskey. “Now, I want to share a little bit about myself,” Elijah picked up a small picture from the corner of his desk, before turning it around for Letum. It was the picture of a middle-aged woman - brunette, green eyed, pretty face. “This was my wife. She was killed by Scourge Beasts many years ago. I want to find a way to destroy the Scourge Beasts completely, plain and simple. I do not view your thirst unsettling, Templar Letum. I think we can use it as a tool. Others suffer from making the tough decisions, but this strength of yours can accomplish many great things.”

    He paused in his words, “I do not find myself a religious person, compared to the rest of the Trinity,” Elijah revealed, which is quite a surprise considering Mathias’s connection with God and Camilla’s strong faith in the Lord. “But I do believe we are each given a purpose. I do believe, we can find your purpose if we work together, don’t you agree?” Elijah questioned, revealing a small smile.

    Letum was surprised when The Most Noble Began to speak about himself, and the fact that he lost his wife to the beasts that roam the borderlands. Not to mention that he is not a man of God. This was the most interesting piece of information. Since all of the trinity was thought to be close to God and religion. One would have pegged him as holy as the Divine King, but no he was just a man fulfilling his duty that he believed Fate had given him. The most surprising thing that was said was that he didn’t find his love of killing unsettling in the least. In fact he thought that he could use him in something since he was able to think differently than others.

    Letum chuckled slightly as he completely relaxed himself. Smiling as he looked into the eyes for the man that seemed to be trying to get him to agree to something. That was fine. He didn’t mind playing his little game what so ever. As long as it provided him an opportunity to get close to him. “Well that is not something that I really expected from you Most NOble. I would have thought that my bloodthirsty nature would have made you question my sanity. No one has ever not been unnerved by that. Well there is a first time for everything.” Letum said and he shook his head and raised his shoulders. A look of relief on his face. “I also wouldn't have pegged you as someone that was more down to earth than in religion.”

    He placed his hands on the the arms of the chair as he continued to speak. “Faith of Fate. They both are fickle mistresses, and both can screw you over. However, I find your proposal a little interesting. Do you really think there is a place for me in this world other than the Battlefield?” Letum asked as he then closed his eyes for a moment. Looking as if he was in thought. “Killing the beasts that plague our land is the only reason I have for living, and if you want to eliminate all of them. Well I am up for the challenge. Though I do wonder is something like that even possible?” Letum asked as he opened his eyes once more. He was keeping tabs on the four guards in the room with his hearing.

    Elijah briefly paused when Letum questioned if he had another purpose besides the battlefield. “No,” the Most Noble stated flatly. “You know who you are, and sometimes, embracing the inner darkness of humanity is the best way to ensure its survival. I don’t have a mission for you quite yet, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be difficult to find a use for your tool,” he stated with a smirk, picking up his cigar once more. It signified that that the meeting was nearing its end, “And when that time comes, I will call you, Templar Letum,” he finished by taking another puff of smoke.

    “You may be dismissed, now.”

    Letum liked the Most Nobles answer to his question. The man seemed to have plan for him. What it was and how it would get him closer to him was still a mystery, but he took a large step this day. He then was dismissed. “Well I look forward to seeing what you have in mind for my lust. See you soon Most Noble.” Letum said as he sat up from the chair. He smiled at the guards as he left the room. He stopped at the door, and picked up his weapons. Placing them back in their sheaths. He opened the door, and left the room without saying another word.

    He knew that he had a meeting to attend, so he quickly made his way to the meeting point, but Raizel was not there. A letter was set on the table. Walking over to the table he picked up the note, and read the contents, a smile on his face as he placed the letter in his pocket. Leaving the building it was already night, and he knew he needed to get some sleep before the next day, but he decided that he was going to have a drink before he went home. So he made his way over to the bar that was on the border of the slums, and the rest of the city.

  9. #9
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    Kris lifted her bottle to the light and grimaced, her slightly muddled mind disappointed with how little of the concoction remained within. Truth be told, it looked as bad as it tasted and looked pretty bad, but it got the job done. At least, it did while there was anything left to do the job.

    Looking around, she took into the tavern perhaps for the first time since she stumbled in here, loose cloak, bottle, and all. It was a tavern like a hundred others in the city. She dared not breathe deeply enough to place it on the shit scale, but knew that by instinct and quick appraisal that it was probably somewhere around the middle; all the taverns she frequented were. Personally, she attributed her choice to class: she wouldn't go too grand, but not too shitty either. Of course, the former was mostly because her visits were usually on her dime, and saving the world didn't pay too well.

    Draining the last of her bottle, she took in the faces of the other patrons, scoping out her next sucker. There was no telling what happened to poor Jvon after that little incident with his wife, but she figured that he wouldn't be around for a while even if she did go back to the Silver Lace. A pity: he wasn't too bad. He helped her forget. Forget all the things that lay behind her and all the shit that lay in front of her. For a little while, at least. Then he started mewling about his wife and marriage. That hadn't been any fun.

    Pursing her lips, she tried to push away the thought. Thinking about how she used the men she met always led to thinking about what it was she didn't want to think about to begin with. But it was little use at this point: it always was. Too many drinks left the mind sluggish, dull, and unable to push away unsolicited memories. Only one thing helped and that was more of the same. "Drinking to forget" hardly covered what was needed. All she had managed so far today was forgetting her last mission and how she had gotten here since returning to the city.

    Looking around, she rolled one of her shoulders and let the cloak slide a bit. A little bait never hurt. At least, it hadn't yet. And it got her what she was looking for. Scanning the room, she caught the eye of one other patron, a guy who didn't look too bad. Rising, she sauntered over to where he sat in a huddle with his friends. Or at least she tried to saunter, tipsy as she was. In spite of that, she registered that his friends were none too happy. For a moment, she considered staggering past. Then she decided with what little remained of her sense that this might be fun. That is what she was here for, wasn't it?

    Half-stumbling, half-falling into the booth besides her new friend, she leaned playfully against him as he wrapped an arm around her, hand exploring and mouth - smart boy - calling for another ale. Maybe a bit forward for her taste, but any upset was soon being drowned in the latest round. As she settled back, it appeared that his friends had decided to make do with what they had because one leaned forward and said, "So the guy said they smacked up these templars something good and I was thinking, 'Why don't we do the same?' They're always looking down on us. I'm sure they'd give us some tips if we asked."

    Smiling into her ale, Kris realized that things were going to be every fun indeed.
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  10. #10
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    Co-post between RedKayne and Maya

    The long trip to and from the Borderfields with Letum and Athame was thankfully uneventful. With the memories of the carnage on their last mission still riding at the forefront of her mind, Kiera was relieved this diplomatic mission had gone smoothly. None of the beasts that so loved to try and kill them bothered to show their gnarly faces. On this trip, they were able to visit with the citizens, show their leaders were working in solidarity with the peoples and make sure all was well within their borders.

    Even though the visit had held an air of calm about it, after all the Templar's had been through of late, she had no plans to let her guard down until they arrived back home in the city of Sanctuary. It was easy to tell that, even within their own walls, the tension hung heavy like a dark shroud over the city. After so many deaths, so many questions and so few answers as to how to stop the Lycan's and their bloodthirsty leader, the people were getting nervous. It was up to the Templar order to offer some semblance of calm. Even they were likely starting to feel the strain of the unknown just outside their very doorsteps.

    As soon as the trio made their way through the city gates, she'd give a quick wave of goodbye to her traveling companions and set to the task of delivering the shipment of herbs for the alchemists who could put it to good use for those in need. Kiera would linger for a few seconds. If nothing else, figuring a thank you was in order. All she earned was a grunt, as the box was snatched up and the door to their work area promptly slammed shut. "Thank you for delivering this much-needed package, Templar Sanford.." Mumbling to herself as that door barely missed her nose by mere inches. Since she'd not even get a grunt of gratitude, Kiera would pat her own back. "Oh, you're very welcome. It's the least I could do" Rolling her eyes at the rudeness of some people. Just because they're scholars and oh so smart doesn't mean they have to be stuffy.

    During the short breaks between training and traveling to and from the Borderfields, Kiera had somehow found the time to settle into a new,'old', house on the far side of town. She had hopes of finding a bit of peace and solitude during those oh, so rare down times. Kiera even jotted down the date and placed a bet with herself on how long it would take before the first family members started popping up like weeds on her doorstep. When there was a knock at the door, of course, she assumed they had discovered her secret hiding place and almost refused to answer; but, that would be rude. If Kiera was rude to her mother, well..as they say, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned or ignored. She'd pull the door open, expecting faces she knew and instead, found a messenger with a sealed scroll in hand. Upon breaking the seal, she'd discover a summons to meet Archon Denaris in her office for a private meeting. To say the request was unexpected was an understatement. She knew there was a 50/50 chance the summons could be really good or really bad.

    Thankfully Kiera had already showered which would make getting ready much quicker. There was a debate between casual clothes or uniform. She figured it would be more professional to go with the later as a sign of respect for the Archon's station. She all but did an outright run to the building before taking a few minutes to catch her breath, do a uniform check and make sure no strands of loose hair were sticking out of the tight-knit bun before making her way inside the building, softly rapping on the door to the Archon's office.

    "Templar Kiera Sanford reporting as requested."

    There was no initial response, but the door was left unlocked. Kiera would find that a bit curious but entered the office anyways and headed directly towards the desk. A chair was turned around and facing away from the desk, and obviously, somebody was sitting on it.

    "I'm glad you're able to join me in such short notice, Kiera Sanford," a familiar man's voice suddenly spoke up from the chair, alarming the young woman. It wasn't Archon Denaris at all.

    The chair swiveled around, and instead, Kiera would face the other Archon... Balthazar Hills.

    He held a stern facial expression, before pointing the open chair before him across the desk. "Please, take a seat," he beckoned.

    Surely, the Templar would be shocked to find Balthazar. It was merely child's play for him, though, to set up this meeting. It didn't take too much work for his vast network of spies to make a duplicate key for this office, take Amelia's seal, and send out a messenger to fetch the young woman.

    "We have much to discuss."

    Kiera found it strange that no one answered when she knocked on the door. Even stranger. there was no answer in response. "Hello? Archon Denaris?" Maybe she stepped out for a minute to get a cup of coffee? She wasn't big on the dark brew; but, it seemed as if everyone else was. Knowing the woman would surely be coming back, she'd go ahead and step inside to wait until the Archon returned. It was then she noticed the chair facing the wrong way and, quite definitely, the top of someone else's head who looked nothing like Denaris which made her freeze dead in her tracks and say not a single word. Once the man spoke, Kiera knew from the deep timber of his voice exactly who she was now dealing with. So the grand reveal of him being Balthazar Hills wasn't quite so grand. It did put her on edge. He wasn't known as the most friendly person. "Archon Hills." Adding nothing more. Figuring the less she spoke, the better off she'd be.

    Upon his request, Kiera took the seat as directed. Her mind was racing to figure out why he'd singled her out and what he wanted from her.

    "We have much to discuss..."

    He'd never 'discussed' anything with her before. Why now? "You've gone through a lot of trouble to get me here, I guess we should start discussing."

    "Indeed," Balthazar nodded his head, before leaning forward in his chair - elbows on his desk and his hands steepled together. "I want to be straight to the point, I want you to transfer custody of Kaitlyn Hills under my protection. She should no longer live under your supervision," he stated flatly. "Especially under the supervision of another templar," the last word came out with a hint of distaste.

    Kiera didn't foresee this coming; but, it really shouldn't be much of a surprise that Balthazar would use Isaac's untimely death as a reason to try and take Kaitlyn away from all of those the little girl considered family. "Really? You think it's best to strip your son's only child away from everyone and everything she's ever known? Especially after all of the hell, she's gone through losing her mother and father?" Even under risk of death or being locked in a jail cell, her answer was set in stone. "Hell no, I made a promise to Templar Hills that Kaitlyn would be well loved and cared for. He asked me to care for her and I plan to do just that."

    The two appeared to be very much at odds. "How will you be able to keep up with her exuberance? Do you even care what his wishes were? Why would I hand over an innocent child to a man who probably hasn't laid eyes on her since the day she was born. I won't deny your grandfatherly right to get to know her; but, I'll not let you strip this child away from the supports system that's been in place since her mother passed away."

    Being as she didn't trust Balthazar as far as she could spit, her words would surely inflame him even further when offering. "We can arrange for monitored visits. Give her a chance to meet you." With Kiera supervising of course. "I can see you despise me. Your venom towards me as a Templar and as a person is just the type of attitude I want to shelter Kaitlyn from. If you can't be civil, you won't see her at all." Throwing down the gauntlet. A gauntlet comprised of many people who'd fight tooth and nail to protect one little girl they all loved.

    The Archon sat back on his chair, his face completely set like a stone... unemotional and stoic. He allowed Kiera to finish, allowing the woman to give him an ultimatum - as if she actually believed she had power here.

    "Let me ask you a question, Miss Sanford," Balthazar began, proving he can be professional. He raised up an index finger, raising his eyebrows with genuine curiosity. "How many days do you believe that you will be on this planet?" he questioned, referring to how long does she expect to be alive.

    "Last time I check... Templars have a short lifespan for various and obvious reasons. The latest example is my own nephew, who's life was taken very unexpectedly. So... how long do you expect that you'll follow suit... Kiera Sanford? A couple years? A couple months, or even just a few weeks?"

    "You are correct, Kaitlyn has already been through hell and needs a support system. A stable support system. If we're to be honest with each other, Kaitlyn does not need another loved one taken away from her. I understand my nephew's wishes for Kaitlyn, but we both know he is a bit too idealized and naive. You cannot keep your promise to him for long, Ms. Sanford."

    "I may not be the best person in the world... but I can see the long-term picture here. Kaitlyn can no longer live under templar supervision. She is the last of the Hills bloodline... she cannot grow up to be a Templar like her parents and share the same fate. She needs an actual future."

    "So I will repeat myself... transfer your custody of Kaitlyn Hills under my protection," his eyes were set. Kiera was a very determined individual, but she would obviously see that he means business also. His eyes were stone-cold and will not waver from his goal.

    It's easy to see this man was very astute at getting what he wants when he wants it. The problem is someone like Kiera, who is headstrong and really could care less if she died in ten years or ten minutes, was just that..she was stubborn to a fault. She made a promise. She keeps her promises. Period. End of story.

    "This isn't about me, Balthazar." Crossing her arms over her chest in an overt sign of resolution. "Kill me now, tomorrow, fifty years from now. No one will miss or mourn me. But, again, this isn't about me. It's about Isaac and his last wish." She'd meet him eye to eye because getting the message through his thick skull required being stubborn enough to stare him down.

    "Let me get this straight. You just said..in your own words..that Kaitlyn needs a stable support system. She does not need to have any other loved ones taken away. Your own words, spoke just now..yes?" Pausing to allow him time to replay those words in his head if need be. "You're right, I can't keep MY promise because I'm a Templar and that requires travel and a wee bit of danger. But Kaitlyn has lived the majority of her life, almost since birth, with the same people for many years. People who adore her. People who are not Templar's but good, kind, loving, hard working people. She's had the same babysitter, spent time playing with Judy in the same bakery, visiting with the priest at the same church, the blacksmith and his family dote on her endlessly. These are the people she's grown up with and love her. What rational reason do you have to rip everyone and everything away from her? Can't you find a heart in that cold, hard chest of yours and do this slowly? Let her get to know you. Know this, if you do this...if you tear her away from the only life she's ever known, she may grow to hate you. Not that your cold heart would give a damn."

    He was going to do it anyway. She could feel it in her bones. "You speak of my chances at longevity in this world; but, you're not a young man Balthazar Hills. What if you die before she's old enough to care for herself? What then? Bounce her around to more strangers? Think...truly think on it. What kind of life will she have then?"

    Balthazar awaited for Kiera to finish once more, but this time - his eyes briefly flared with annoyance, which betrayed his stoic expression for only a second. "What rational reason, Ms. Sanford? As I said... Kaitlyn is the last of the Hills bloodline, she cannot grow up to be a Templar and share the same fate of her parents," he stated flatly.

    Kiera is a very stubborn person, very much like Balthazar. But the Archon has many more years of experience than her and knows exactly how to negotiate with people. She will shortly learn she has no power in her situation at all.

    "Kaitlyn is of noble blood. Which means she will have responsibilities. Isaac ran away from his destiny, and look what happened to him? She will need to be raised as a noblewoman to continue our prestigious bloodline, and not be raised from templars or the dregs of society," Balthazar stated, displaying his elitist attitude and labeling every single person Kiera mentioned to be a dreg.

    "We can approach hypotheticals from many angles, Ms. Sanford," Balthazar began. "If you believe that my old age will be a hindrance, imagine the status from everybody you mentioned? The monthly pilgrimage takes away those that are no longer deemed worthy to live in our society... imagine how long it takes before those very people will be taken away?" he paused in his words. "I would rather that Kaitlyn grows up and hates me... than live a life where a loved one is taken away from her on a seasonal basis."

    The Archon leaned forward once more, clasping his hands together. "But enough with ideal chit-chat and hypothetical, Ms. Kiera Sanford," he stated, his eyes narrowing and becoming more serious. "I understand the nature of Templars, I did raise my nephew after all. Many of you have this patriotic nature of service and self-sacrifice, obviously you're including considering you don't care about your own life. But, like any other human being, you care about the life of others."

    "Let me ask you yet another question. This will be another hypothetical situation. But, imagine that you return to Sanctuary after another harrowing mission... and find someone like Judy suffered a very tragic accident? It would be a darn shame if anything happened to her... or that priest... or that blacksmith and his family," he stated firmly, completely cold like a snake.

    "If simple common sense cannot shake your foolish stubbornness, Kiera, recognize that I have a lot of power. And as you can see - I have the power to easily make things happen... power that Archon Denaris cannot truly rival."

    "So, let me repeat myself once more time..." he leaned forward closer, staring Kiera down with his own icy-blue eyes. "Transfer your custody of Kaitlyn Hills to under my protection."

    Stare away asshole. Kiera might lose this battle; but, that won't stop the all out war that will follow if Kaitlyn was miserable living with him. "You're nothing but a cold hearted bastard. But, I can't say I'm surprised since Isaac couldn't stand you either." She hated doing this. Hated being put in this position. Truly despised what she was being forced to do. "I do this under duress. I don't think you have the ability to raise a young child with such a zest for life as Kaitlyn." Knocking his age yet again. Kaitlyn was not going to be an easy child for him to keep up with. She was a free spirit. If he squashed that exuberance, it would be easy to recognize he was mistreating her.

    "It's not just me and those who've helped raise her who love her. The people of Sanctuary loved Isaac. This is not a game, Balthazar. Do you have toys for her? Have you decorated a bedroom for her? Do you even know what she likes to eat? You know absolutely nothing, yet you plan to whisk her away from everyone and everything. This is a child who's been lucky enough to have stability when so many children do not." He may not care; but, it was very plain to see, Kiera did.

    "I promise to sign the papers on one condition. You show me where she's going to live and that you have everything prepared for this little girl. Do that and I won't fight you any further."

    "And obviously she's a very unlucky child when both of her parents have been coldly taken away from this world, Ms. Sanford," Balthazar cooly replied back. "I may be a cold-hearted bastard, but I have the best intentions to raise her to face this world. Toys and decorations will not help her face reality," he stated, a response to the several questions Sanford sent to him.

    He won't be personally raising Kaitlyn, he has many caretakers he can supervise and assist. He can't shirk his duties as an Archon, after all.

    "But at least I'm glad you're starting to see this my way, Ms. Sanfrod," the Archon responded when Kiera gave out her one condition. "We will have everything set up for the little girl in about a week. When the time comes, you will be summoned again. A week should be sufficient for the little girl to say her goodbyes."

    "You are dismissed now, Templar Kiera Sanford," the Archon was finished.

    She found it unfathomable that Balthazar felt it was time to make such a young girl, a child who should be playing and laughing, instead come face to face with the reality that life sucks and everyone dies. He's such a sweet man.

    "My family died when I was so young I can't even remember their faces. I think it will be in her best interest to be in the care of her real family." Or, in honest truth, the care of paid attendants who are complete and total strangers to Kaitlyn. On the bright side, she'll be able to manipulate them around her little finger.

    "I'm glad we've come to an accord. She will be turned over to you in one week. I'm sure you will provide her with the best accommodations and she'll want for nothing." He was a wealthy old coot wasn't he? An old coot who will try to turn her heart away from those who've been watching over her since the day she was born. But, who cares about little things like that? No one will even notice she's gone.

    "We'll see you at the end of the week."




    After Kiera left the office, Balthazar sat in Denaris's office room in silence. He clasped his hands together, thinking hard about his actions.

    She's not going to go through this deal... Balthazar had a strong feeling in his gut. It would be best to set up a meeting with Iago, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to take care of Ms. Sanford.
    Last edited by RedKayne; 06-29-2017 at 03:41 AM.

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