Tethe'alla's Regeneration (An Agnores/Wil Adventure)

[Agnores]

Life was good for a Chosen, Norega thought. He had a big house, lot's of money, and if he wanted, he had plenty of women. To top it all off, Norega was helping the public as much as he can. Tons of his money went to relief efforts for the poor, and his own house was used as a refuge for people who could afford to pay rent, which was cheaper then even some of the shacks in the slums of the city.

It was the Chosen's duty to help and serve, Norega thought, especially since by being born with the Cruxis Crystal in his hand, he was destined to die helping the world. It was really all Norega wanted. To get rid of the Desians, to regenerate Tethe'alla. And if he could, he'd end discrimination against half-elves, before it got too bad.

As Norega exited his house, he could hear yelling in the distance. He followed the sound to it's source: right outside of the Meltokio Castle, a large group of guards had brought a single, female half-elf, who looked no older then 18 in human years, before a large, apparently angry mob. The guards seemed to be using more bodily force then necessary.

Norega couldn't hear what the guards were saying, due to the yelling, when he was approached by a guard. "We aren't bothering you, are we, Chosen?"

Norega shook his head at the man, and pointed at the scene. "What's happening here?" The guard looked back at the mob surrounding the guards with the half-elf.

"We finally got that brutal axe-murderer. Found her right at the scene of the crime." The guard seemed pleased with himself, and smiled at Norega. "Good news, eh?"

Norega shook his head again. "That girl? How do you know?" The guard looked taken aback, but quickly gained his composure. "Well, she was the only person at the scene who didn't show any sympathy for the Bryants, who's family member it was who had been killed. Of course that means she did it, being a half-elf and all."

Norega glared at the man, his feelings suddenly getting the better of him. "That GIRL!? She looks like she could barely lift a twig!! We humans have treated her kind with no sort of respect, and you expect her to have sympathy when a human dies!? That girl did no wrong; if you must know who killed the Bryant son, it was me! I KILLED NEIL BRYANT!!"

Norega sat in his cell, going over the events of that day yet again. He had been in this damnable cell for a few months now, Norega had lost count. It was all for naught though. He had just confused the half-elf, landed himself in jail on "Suspicion of Conspiring with a Half-Elf" and the girl had still died.

Sometimes Norega considered using his magics to get himself out. Sometimes he considered getting out and avenging the half-elf girl. But what good would that do? More violence, and no less discrimination. It was bad enough having the Wilder named shamed with a crime he did not commit. Maybe one day, when Norega had regenerated the world, half-elves and humans could live happily together. Norega decided that he would let things be until he could regenerate the world.

Unfortunately, as far as Norega knew in his underground jail cell, the Oracle had not come. So all he could do was wait and hope, wait and hope. Just like every month since he arrived here.

[Wil Grieve]

He came in quietly, weaponless, and with a look of bitter hatred on his face. Standing at 5’10”, he was tall for his heritage, though almost anyone looking at him would assume human blood. On either side of him was a castle guard, their pikes succeeding him as they pushed him gently toward the cell door; he put up almost no resistance. His steps were methodical and soft-sounding, and it seemed that he took care to avoid puddles in the cracked stone floor. And from his clothing, a stylish mix of earth-toned upper-class noir and rebellious flair, it was obvious that he didn't belong in prison.

He was unique without eccentricity; observant without self-righteous omniscience. His manner of movement told a great deal about his character. For instance, the tight contractions of his lean muscles showed his readiness to pounce upon his escorts; the scars on his wrists and arms from countless duels showed that he knew his way around a blade. One hand was wrapped with bandages and covered in dried blood; a logical guess as to why would be a blood bond, showing his dedication to those he trusted.

Flickering lights reflected off of his ashen blond hair, burgeoning with subterranean volcanism. The red tinges highlighted themselves in the room's bleak desolation, in brilliant contrast to his milky skin and radium eyes. The messy, edgy cut extended down into a chinstrap beard of equally indecisive color, hugging his wide but soft jaw. Silver decorations adorned his ears, pierced through both lobes and the cartilage of his left ear. A small bar speared his left eyebrow, accentuating its natural shape.

"Norega Wilder, step away from the door," one of the guards barked. The newly-captured prisoner wasn't looking up at whoever the escort was commanding, so he didn't know whether or not the order was obeyed. He could only assume so by the fact that no chaos erupted. He felt the iron gate slide open in front of him, scraping the tiles, sending seismic waves up through his black boots, through his shuddering, hairless, powerful legs and up into his torso. He felt it reverberate inside his chest and let himself into the cell before the guards saw fit to push him. Hearing it slam shut behind him, he allowed the hatred to manifest as an awful energy, a horrid, irritating aura of malicious red. From any angle, he was visibly distraught.

"Jagger Schenkkan," the guard spoke, reading from a small sheet of paper. An arrest warrant, perhaps? Even one of those would soothe the man, Jagger, quite a bit. He didn't mind being in prison for committing a crime. That was the natural order. And if he agreed with the warrant...

"Arrested for refusal to pay the half-elf price for healing salve."

"Not my fault your laws are bullshit."

Through the bars, one of the guards stabbed Jagger with the blunt end of his spear, knocking him forward and to his knees. He started chuckling to himself, and ascended from his hands and knees, turning to face the guard. The guard twisted the spear over his head and again stabbed through the iron bars. This time, Jagger caught the weapon between his hands, effortlessly breaking it in half against the door. He let the useless end clatter to the floor in the cell while the guards looked on incredulously.

"Well, well!" one of them said, his voice high and nasally, "Theft AND assault on an officer of the law! For you half-elf swine, I think that means public execution!"

Jagger briefly glanced down at his wrapped hand. With a sneer, he disregarded the jailers and turned to face his new cellmate.

"Well, now it's a party," he joked, mentally belittling the man's appearance. He'd clearly been in prison now for a while, but he looked strangely vigorous. They'd yet to break him, it seemed.

"Rot in Hell, half-elf!" the guards called, exiting and slamming the dungeon door before Jagger had a chance to retort with some sort of witty insult.

[Agnores]

"Norega Wilder, step away from the door."

Norega complied, wanting no trouble. He wasn't a fighter...No real muscle to back-up a punch or a blade, and certainly no will to cause harm to anyone. However, that didn't seem to be the case for his uniquely dressed half-elf cellmate. Of course, Norega would have probably shared with the half-elf's anger if he had not been in jail for some months... and the possibility of execution, as doubtful as it would be that threat would be followed, certainly did nothing to ebb his anger out.

Norega shook his unruly reddish blonde hair out of his face, silently wishing he could tie it back like he did before coming here. He sighed, and let his sapphire eyes rest on his new cellmate.

"Jagger, is it? I am Norega. Seems as if we will be sharing this room for a while. I feel I must apologize for my human brothers-in-blood. Not all humans are like this."

[Wil Grieve]

Jagger wasn't exactly surprised that the man actually talked back, though it was the lesser expected of two possibilities. In every other cell he'd ever been in, either he introduced himself to his cellmate first, or no words were ever exchanged. It was nice to see someone of amicable disposition. He silently wondered what Norega was in for. Extending a hand in greeting, he shook with Norega, noting the feebleness of the redhead's grip. He didn't have the arms of a fighter, but his hands were warm with mana flow. He was clearly a mage.

"You say that now," the swordsman said in reference to Norega's comment about their future sharing of the cell. Jagger's eyes were already darting around the cell, looking for vulnerabilities in the iron or the stone, anything that he might have been able to use to escape. He had business to attend to; he didn't have time for prison.

"Well met, Norega. It's good to meet a reasonable man. Now, if you wouldn't mind, could you help me get this door open? I'm not fond of cells, you see,"

[Agnores]

Norega considered his options. This half-elf looked like he could fight, if he had a weapon. And though not a fighter himself, Norega had studied elven magic extensively, even learning Master Boltzman's healing techniques from the master himself. Odds were that they could escape and make it out fine.

However, it would shame the Wilder name even more to aid a half-elf out of jail, especially one that might be sentenced to execution. It saddened him to think that it might just be more because Jagger was a half-elf, but he couldn't deny reality.

Norega closed his eyes, briefly. The Oracle could come at anytime. So maybe escaping would be for the better anyway, overall.

"What's the rush, friend?" Norega asked, thinking it would be Jagger himself that decided the course of action.

[Wil Grieve]

Feeling the bars for any sort of weakness, Jagger looked back at his cellmate. His expression still carried the flushing brought on from his frustration at being imprisoned, especially without a trial, and especially because of his own blood. His first goals upon getting out, he decided, were the murders of the shopkeeper and the guards who brought him to this dank dungeon.

Of course, this was just his mind's exaggeration; he despised killing the inferior. The ignorant who saw him as a half-breed or a mutt deserved the freedom to writhe in their cage of idiocy, without being deprived of an unfulfilling, bigoted life by someone who has better things to do than be the victim of hate. He just hoped they met a swift end by some other means, and preferably something oozing with irony.

No, he wouldn't kill them. It wouldn't help him. He'd get the satisfaction of wiping the smug grin off of their faces, but at the same time would be guaranteeing himself a short, narrow road to the gallows.

His facial muscles showed sincerity in his next statement.

"Oh, no rush," he lied, his face carrying an air of honesty flawlessly, "I'd just like to get this done with as quickly as possible so I can move on. You would agree that this cell is hardly hospitable, would you not? I am one for simple comforts, and in here, we're deprived of even the tiniest of luxuries. Unacceptable."

At the risk of sounding pretentious and uppity, Jagger relented.

"Though...I suppose this is the way of life for prisoners. Inferior beings like myself, you understand. But you called me 'friend,' which...to be honest, that's a rare thing to hear coming from your kind. You haven't, perchance, been digging a secret tunnel out of here in these last few months? I read a book about that once...seemed ingenious, but this floor looks pretty impenetrable. Magitechnology's a bitch."

Shaking the cell door violently, he affirmed that it was definitely not going to move.

"Ugh...dammit...I need out of this god-forsaken cell!"

[Agnores]

Norega laughed. It was an off-sound, as Norega hadn't laughed in a very long time.

"Magitechnology still exists in the most inconvenient of places. You would think, Tethe'alla being in decline and all, it would all disappear."

Norega took a seat on the cell bed.

"I call you 'friend' because I view you as an equal. I view all people that way." Norega sighed, and glanced around the room. "We could very easily get out. I even have a plan. First, tell me, are you good with a sword?"

[Wil Grieve]

"Yes, yes it does. But whose fault is that? Things are falling into despair all around us, and yet no god or goddess reaches out their hand to save us...this world needs the Chosen and Martel, but instead we get Desians and discrimination...I do what I can, but times are a-changin', and there's not a whole lot one man like me can do these days. Especially with, you know," he said, using a finger to direct Norega's gaze to his prominently pointed ears.

Jagger watched the meek redhead sit down upon a bed and kept his eyes on the metal. Even with his Exsphere, it still held. Meltokio obviously wasn't joking when they built their prisons; it would take something mighty to bust out. And he was running out of time.

Norega's talk of equality was refreshing, but at the same time not what Jagger needed. He needed a plan.

"We could very easily get out. I even have a plan."

Jagger's ears perked and his attention shifted entirely to Norega. Allowing the man to finish his question before interrogating him about why he hadn't mentioned this earlier, Jagger smiled, almost as if he thought the other man was joking.

"Good with a sword?" he said through mild laughter, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I know a thing or two about swordsmanship. Why, what exactly did you have in mind?"

[Agnores]

"Using my mana to get us out. Maybe Martel will have pity on us then," Norega said, smirking slightly.

He stood, his smirk gone, replaced with a completely somber look. "I will open the door. It will attract the guards, and you will knock them out. Please, just knock them out."

Norega's body began to give off an odd light, and Jagger's half-elf senses picked up a large well of mana, most of it surging to Norega's arms. "Once I open the door, I will will be unable to cast any more spells. I am no good with a sword, I will be relying on you to get us out, and with the least amount of deaths. I noticed your Exsphere, I am sure you can do it. Now stand back."

As Jagger moved out of the way, Norega took his position in the back of the cell, facing the door. He brought his arms together in front of him, mana exploding out around him. He placed his palms outward towards the door, then bent his knees slightly as he leaned forward, bringing his arms behind him. He kept his palms faced outwards, touching each other at the base of his hands. Elven words began to quietly flow from his lips, each word filled with mana.

Norega eyes closed. "Martel guide me, your Chosen. HYAAA!"

The last syllable was a yell, but it was drowned out from the large beam of mana shot forth from Norega's palms to the door. The light blinded both Norega and Jagger for a bit.

When the light cleared, the bars where there no more. Norega was panting heavily, and on one knee where he was standing. In the distance, the sound of guard's yells could be heard.

[Wil Grieve]

"Knock them out? With a sword? Norega, I don't think you quite grasp the concept of bladed weapons...but at your request, I would be glad to comply."

All jokes aside, Jagger was mostly intrigued by Norega's incredibly keen observational abilities. Most people looked at his wrapped hand and assumed the blood coating the bandages represented his trust to someone, a bond; leave it to a mage, and a prisoner at that, to realize that it was, indeed, an Exsphere hidden beneath the white cloth. While it left a visible lump under its hiding place, most people never suspected it.

Of course, his violent shaking of the cell door was also an indicator of his hidden potential; a normal person, even one with Jagger's muscular definition, the lean legs of a runner with the built torso of a warrior, would've been hard-pressed to even budge the gate.

Norega took up a position in front of the door, chanting something elven and enchanting. Glancing away from the spell circle forming on the ground, he saw the broken, useless end of the guard's spear lying nearby. He trusted his hands and feet more than the hard wood for strength, but his exposed forearms, smooth and scarred, were quite finished with taking slices and stabs. He'd use the broken rod for defense, and his explosive, Exsphere-fueled motions as an offensive. Until he got a sword, that is.

Mistaking Norega's prose for continued elven, he glanced back in time to see a massive energy beam forming. As it exploded, taking the cell's bars with it, Jagger could see afterimages forming across a white canvas. Like a flashbang, it burned his eyes viciously, but luckily, he adjusted quickly. Norega was on the floor; Jagger hoped he wouldn't have to carry the man out. Under normal circumstances, he could just leave him behind; if Jagger had succeeded in ripping the door from the barred wall, he would feel no need to ensure the redhead's survival. But because it was Norega that got them out...

Jagger ran over to the dungeon door, leaving Norega to his recovery at the edge of the former cell. He made sure to throw a wink in the mage's direction, to give him peace of mind that Jagger wasn't abandoning him. After the show he put on, he'd surely be put to death. Attempting escape meant death. Of course, for Jagger, pretty much anything meant death; he could only assume escape attempts were bad enough for humans to swing on the gallows pole.

Pressed against the wall, he was mere inches from the door when it slammed into the stone next to him. Two guards burst forward, their helmeted eyes blocking their peripheral vision. Wielding a lance and a sword, they began a slow, wary advance toward the mage. Stepping in rhythm with the two to conceal the sounds of his own footsteps, Jagger crept up behind the two, keeping low to the ground, and suddenly-

"Eagle Dive!" he screamed, leaping into the air and doing a sort of flip. Elevated by the Exsphere's power, he was too high for the guards to see with their helmets on; both were floored when the fighter's powerful kick drove them to the ground. One was instantly knocked unconscious; the other was able to look up at his attacker and smile sinisterly before Jagger gave him a swift punch to the back of his head, sending him into a deep sleep.

"Norega, let's move!" he yelled to his comrade, stealing the sword from the guard and rushing for the door, before stopping in his tracks, visible signs of an epiphany playing across his face.

"Actually, wait...put on one of those uniforms, Norega! I'll run up and buy you some time to get it on, it'll make your escape a little easier!"

With that, Jagger tested the weight of the sword with a few practice swings before running up the spiral staircase, ready for whatever came his way.

[Agnores]

Norega tried to stand, watching Jagger's attack on the advancing guards. However, his legs nearly gave in, causing him to lean against the wall. That attack drained him worse then he remembered it ever doing...then again, he hadn't practiced magic in several months.

Norega's eyes closed as he tried to compose himself. "Norega, let's move!" Jagger called, but Norega didn't budge. Even as his new comrade called for him to wear the armor of the guards, Norega wasn't sure if he move as he was, let alone in armor. He tested standing again, and watched Jagger run up the spiral staircase out.

He staggered forward, to the closest guard's body. It was true; Jagger had an Exsphere. No normal half-elf or human could perform such a move. It also helped explain how Jagger had shook the door. If only Martel could give the Oracle. Then his spells would be even more powerful.

Norega had never worn armor before. It took him a while to figure out the straps and pieces, and as he worked, he feared for Jagger. Even with an Exsphere, he was just one half-elf. When he finally had the pieces on, he stood, testing the wieght. The armor was heavy and hot; Norega couldn't wait to get out of it already. He picked up the spear for good measure. It was heavy and seemed unwieldly...Norega definately did not like this.

Norega took a few steps towards the staircase before something struck him: How does a half-elf get an Exsphere?

[Wil Grieve]

He emerged from the door at the top of the stairs just as a flock of soldiers was preparing to head down to figure out what all the commotion was; seeing Jagger there shocked them into flinching, but the half-elf's Exsphere gave him an increase in both perception and reaction time. He'd known they would be there. This gave him a crucial jump on them, allowing him to begin his offensive before they had any time to say anything.

Thrusting the tip of his sword toward the face of the nearest guard, he remembered Norega's pleas not to kill anyone. He couldn't imagine they'd be in any less trouble by sparing the lives of the guards, but he still owed the mage for releasing him. He didn't know how much time he had left. How long had it been since he'd been captured? Fifteen minutes?

Too long, he realized, adrenaline pumping through his system. Too late. It was too late when they threw me in the cell. Goddamnit...I gotta get out of here. I don't have the time for this.

He silently hoped that the mage downstairs was having an easy time disrobing the guard and putting on his armor. He also hoped that there were no other entrances to that cellblock. If someone caught him in the act, he'd be too weak to retaliate. The blast that blew the doors off of the cell had been packed with power. From personal experience, Jagger knew that prisoners - at least, the ones he was used to attending to - usually wore themselves out within a few weeks before running on fumes thereafter.

The blade's tip stopped centimeters from the guard, aghast at the sudden presence of this deadly weapon. Jagger arced his arm upward, catching the blade beneath the other man's helmet and knocking it backward. It hit the carpet floor with a muted thud and rolled until it came to a stop. By that time, Jagger had driven the flat of his sword into the top of the man's head with a booming clang; he collapsed, blood pooling beneath his unbroken skin into a sizable bruise. One down, and no blood had been shed.

Three remained, and all acted quickly after their comrade was incapacitated. Two swung swords at the same time, one trying to catch Jagger's neck, the other his chest. He bent backward, dodging both, and drove one of his boots into the groin of the closest opponent. His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor as well, his metal armor buckling from the sheer force of the powerful kick. Turning on his other heel, he twisted out of harm's way and took a defensive stance, parrying a blow from a man carrying a spear in the process.

"Half-elf scum," the spear-carrier spat, and Jagger recognized him as the degenerate human who'd thrown all of those bigoted words at the half-breed down below. Fire burned in the swordsman's eyes as he drove his elbow deep into the man's face, breaking teeth and knocking him stone-cold onto the floor.

That's three, his mind raced, and he twisted his head to try and find the other one. In the corner, he saw a spell circle form below the remaining guard; rushing forth, he brought his sword high, but before he could attack, three fireballs emerged from the spellsword's fingertips, and with breathtaking speed they flew toward Jagger.

He didn't even have time to process the situation when his arms crossed themselves in front of his chest and he kneeled, screaming one word as he did so.

"Guardian!"

A green shield formed around the half-elf, and he felt one of the flames approaching his face dissolve before his eyes. The other two bounced off of the shield, ricocheting into the ceiling and a hanging tapestry respectively. The tapestry burst into flame and Jagger grabbed the other guard, lifting him into the air by his pauldrons, and with a taxing heave, threw him into the ground, kicking his armored head twice.

Knowing he had no time to spare, he rushed over to the stairwell and called down.

"Norega! Coast is clear, but we need to get a move on now!"

[Agnores]

"Norega! Coast is clear, but we need to get a move on now!"

Norega gave an inward sigh. He moved to the stairs, and then called up. "I'll get you, you half-elf scum!" He walked up the stairs and when he got to the top, he glanced at Jagger, his face hidden with the helmet.

"I'll be escorting you to the Flanoir prison now." Under the helmet, even though Jagger couldn't see it, he grinned. Hopefully Jagger caught on. "Now come with me." Norega, grabbed Jagger, gently placing his arms behind his back, one arm holding them in place with the other on his shoulder to guide him. "I hope this is what you had in mind, Jagger." Norega whispered.

Norega guided Jagger through a door that led into a hallway that seemed to be nothing but branching paths and doors. Luckily, there seemed to be no more guards. That must have meant that Jagger had dealt with most of the prison guards. Meltokio was relatively peaceful...it made sense, most of the guards would be palace guards on the upper floors anyway.

"Jagger, just thought of something. Hand me that sword." Norega threw his spear back into the room with the other guards, and sheathed the sword Jagger had on his belt. "Less suspicious this way. We'll need to hurry through the castle."

[Wil Grieve]

"I watched which way I was going on the way in," Jagger told his armored ally, directing his gaze toward the south door. "It's a couple hundred feet beyond that door, swift left and hug the right until you come to the steps leading to the main hall. There was just one guard in there, patrolling the hall. We won't be able to sneak past him, but if you can get me close, I can probably get him out of our way. Then it's a straight shot out. We've gotta go faster than this, though. I've got places to go and people to see and hangings to avoid, so let's make like a baby and head out of this mutha."

It wasn't a foolproof plan, he had to admit. After all, there was something suspect about a single guard escorting a prisoner for transport. They'd likely be questioned if they were seen, which was why disarming and disabling the single guard patrolling the nearby corridor was so crucial. So far, he'd been able to avoid tripping some sort of alarm. The hallway, though, was a bottleneck. They'd be easily surrounded and overwhelmed if they were caught there.

"This'll work. Trust me," Jagger told the redhead, flashing a mischievous smile.

[Agnores]

"Alright, just remember. No killing."

Norega followed Jagger's instrutions, exiting through the south door, and into the hallway. He took the swift left and kept close to the right wall until he came to the stairs.

"Can you do this? Quickly? Quietly?"

Norega had no real doubts of Jagger's ability, but asking allowed for extra reassurance. After all, what they were doing damned Norega in the eyes of the Pope and the king, and probably all of Tethe'alla. Chosen or no, this was the end of his public life. So naturally, he wanted to make sure there was a definite success chance.

As Norega pushed his 'prisoner' up the stairs into the main hallway, Norega's thoughts returned the the half-elf's Exsphere. It was helpful, indeed, but it bothered Norega to think of where it came from. Desians all had Exspheres, otherwise they wouldn't be as scary. And most mercenaries had them too, and most got them from unlawful means. Norega wasn't sure if allying himself with either category was a smart choice, especially the Desian, but he had no choice.

If Jagger was Desian, Norega could only hope he had not heard his comment earlier in the cell. These thoughts soon vanished, however, as both Jagger and himself came into the main hallway, and spotted the guard Jagger had mentioned. "This way, scum." Norega toned audibly, pushing Jagger in the direction of the guard, and the direction out of here.

[Wil Grieve]

OOC: Forgive my absence, I spent most of yesterday studying for a test, and after the test I had to drive back home from college. I'm home now.

"Halt!" came the voice of the guard, a heavy bass, when he felt the disturbance in the air marking the entrance of Norega and Jagger. The latter cursed under his breath, angling his eyes as far toward his "captor" as he could to see where the sword was. He knew he wasn't supposed to kill, but if it was his only option, then he had to make sure that the means to do so were within his reach. He could probably rip the man to pieces with his bare hands, but he wasn't heartless. A merciful death was always preferable. And infinitely less messy. It'd be easier to hide a cohesive body as opposed to a pile of liquefied sinew.

"Look, asshat," Jagger called to the guard as he continued along, forcing Norega to fall in step behind him to keep up the ruse, "I've had to deal with enough of your kind today as it is. I'm glad I'm being transferred out to Flanoir; Meltokio fuckin' blows. Not as much as your mother, though; she's the only thing I'll miss about this place."

The guard was taken aback, but kept his cool about him.

"Quite a mouth on this one, I see. Hardly grounds for transfer, though. Tell me, brother," he said to Norega, "What's he done that's gotten him sent out to that wasteland?"

[Agnores]

Norega looked at the guard, and tried to make his voice a tad bit deeper, hoping to ensure he wasn't recognized.

"He is wanted in Flanoir for murder. The authorities want him executed there, saying that he'll get the proper punishment for both of his crimes."

The guard walked closer to Jagger. "Nasty, this one is. But why is Flanoir taking such interest in a half-elf? I figure it doesn't matter where he dies, as long as his filth is gone." The guard walked past Norega.

"Ah, well. Not my business. I shall see you later, brother. Gotta go take Jeth's place, so he can have a break," the guard said, looking back.

Norega waved at the retreating guard, giving Jagger a slight nudge to get him moving, knowing that if the guard went down there, they were royally screwed.

(OOC: No problems man, I was pretty busy myself.)

[Wil Grieve]

As the guard passed him by, Jagger smirked and nodded, craning his neck to see around Norega. They'd succeeded so far; Meltokio guards were a lot dumber than he'd anticipated. But they would have to walk twice as quickly now that the guard was headed for the prison; once he saw the room full of unconscious dolts, the two escapees were royally screwed.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," Jagger responded to Norega's nudging, picking up his step. The bouncing of the human's armor was the only noise Jagger could hear. He couldn't wait to tell Tierney about this. It was probably the swiftest escape from prison in the history of the world, an honor he would tote proudly.

They rounded the corner and were still safe; hugging the wall, they were still safe. No more guards seemed to be in the question-asking mood. And luckily, they'd arrived during the changing of the guard at the main gates; the guards on the new shift bought the story of the Flanoir murder as well.

Well away from the front gates of the castle, Jagger led Norega into a shaded alley to allow him to remove the armor. As he did so, he began walking away from the mage, clearly having somewhere else he needed to be. Breaching the threshold separating the alleyway from the street, he heard the distant shouts of an alarm being raised.

[Agnores]

The first thing Norega removed was his helmet. "That went smoothly," he said, turning to look at Jagger, who was walking away. Norega closed his eyes for a second, then continued to work with his armor.

Jagger could possibly be a Desian, and thus could be a danger to keep around. However, Jagger was also an experienced fighter, and if Norega could convince him to stay, could prove very useful on the journey of regeneration. The only issues that raised was the retrieval of Norega's Cruxis Crystal.

The distant sounds of an alarm came just as Norega removed the final piece of armor. He quickly turned towards where Jagger was standing.

"Where are you going? We need to stick together. My strength seems to have returned, and from the sound of things, we are going to need everything we can get to finish our escape."

Norega knew that most of the people in the city did not believe he had killed the Bryant's son. He heard from the guards constantly about people who petitioned the king to get him out. They needed a place to hide, and Norega was willing to bet anyone on the street could hide them.

[Wil Grieve]

He was about to broach the alleyway's threshold, where a brief gust of foul wind would cause him to wince, when he heard the alarms go off. He'd known that leaving the guards lying around would be a bad idea, and as he usually did, found his instincts to be correct. The mage had finally managed to get himself out of the armor, and was now calling to his rescuer, who sighed, not particularly wanting to carry the man any further. Jagger had work to do, and he was still clinging to hope that Tierney was still standing in the square where he'd left him.

Yet he knew that the human, that other creature, was probably right. The streets were about to flood with royal guards. The Papal Knights would probably be called out. His face would become an instant target to nearly everyone in the city as the poor fight for the bounty they'd receive for killing him, and extra prizes would go to whoever was able to subdue the human escapee, the half-elf sympathizer.

"Yeah...yeah, you're right. Norega, listen and listen closely; there's a young man around here somewhere with dark hair and very bright blue eyes. He's wearing...uh...armor, with white shoulderpads. He probably isn't moving at all at this point, so we'll have to look carefully. Don't ask why, but we need to find him, right now. We cannot leave this city until we have him. Do I make myself clear?"

[Agnores]

Norega stared for a second, closed his eyes, then sighed. "Any idea where he be?"

He had little choice but to comply. He probably wouldn't make it far by himself without being aprehended once again, and Jagger seemed urgent. Jagger, whatever his background, was a useful fighter, and maybe this person they were looking for would be an asset as well.

He heard the shouts, and the clanging of armor nearby. If the guards didn't come through the ally, they would at least check it. They needed to hurry, and they needed to hurry fast.

Norega began to side-step around Jagger, heading to the opposite end of the ally from the sound, the exit Jagger had been heading towards.