[M] Sanctuary: As Daylight Dies (IC)

[RedKayne]

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.

Link to the OOC

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Sanctuary



Prologue: City of Broken Angels

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Intro Music

Fair maiden, draw in silver, the stars web their hope from your blood...

A woman screamed, thrashing about as a Templar warrior dragged her through the mud. The middle-aged woman’s clothes were completely ruined by the grayish sludge, and heavy rain poured down from the skies above. The templar, a young man clad in silver armor, dragged the woman roughly by her dark-brown hair, streaked by gray hairs of elderly age. She continued screaming at the top of her lungs, begging for help from the nearby bystanders, but nobody would intervene. The crowd of citizens only looked down at the woman with a solemn expression, knowing there is nothing they could do.

Fair maiden, won’t you be joyed by the sight of the three? Their sole eyes of fate is carried at you...

She was being dragged away from her home, a building that was nearly falling apart in the slums. Her husband tried to fight back and save his wife, but two more templars were already taking care of him. They pushed the man down to the ground, constantly kicking him and ignoring his pleas and cries of agony. The man continued to holler in pain as the templars physically beat him down, but the emotional pain of never seeing his wife again was even worse. The man’s little girl, a brunette child no more than six years old, was crying at the front door. She watched her father receiving a physical abuse from the Templars, and her mother being dragged away and will never be seen again. She kept on sobbing for her mommy, tightly holding on to a stuffed bear in a feeble attempt to find comfort in this madness.

Behold one, turn from this side to this side, shave thee beauty from the lies of the lips...

The middle-aged woman continued to struggle, her voice becoming coarse from constantly screaming. They finally reached their destination, right before the front gate of the city. There were dozens of more Templars dragging other people, many of them were mentally sick and old in age. Most of them received the same treatment, and were being dragged roughly by their hairs, arms, or legs. Thunder boomed overhead, and the heavy rain continued to become harsher. The sky was grey from the dark clouds, and the atmosphere itself was completely morbid. It seemed like hope was nothing but a child’s fantasy in this world.

Bathe in fire... Glorified skin anew... with good morning, as the eyes still draw at you.

Lord God, I pray to you... Amen.

Divine Lady Camilla finished her prayer, standing up from her kneeling position. She was dressed in a regal red-and-black dress, but it was getting soaked by the dreadful weather. She stood on top of a balcony in the castle, overlooking the front section of the city. Her heart swelled with pain as she watched the process of the Pilgrimage, witnessing Inquisitor Darkwood’s Templars gather up those deemed useless in society, and being transferred out of the city of Sanctuary... their beloved home.

“I see that you are troubled, Lady Camilla,” Divine King Mathias glanced to his left, commenting on his Divine Lady’s troubled appearance. Even though he was Divine King, Mathias wouldn't want to miss the opportunity of watching over the Pilgrimage and ensuring it runs smoothly. Today, he was adorned in black regal clothing, which also getting soaked by the heavy rain, but he paid no heed. He sighed lightly, before glancing back down and watching as one of the Templars toss a middle-aged woman with dark hair into one of the several caravans. These were large steel caravans, barely hovering above the ground with the excess amount of people locked up inside. There were many cries for help, and many demands for releases, but none of their pleas were answered. “You must remember, this is what we must do to survive. We must sacrifice a few... in order to save many.”

---

At the center of the operation and standing right before the front gates, was the tall and intimidating Masked Inquisitor. The heavy rain clanged loudly against his silver-like armor, and the dark slits of his eyes watched everything carefully. Once all of the caravans are full, the Masked Inquisitor will proceed with the next phase of the operation. He will lead the caravans outside and transport them to another town in the Borderfields. Yet, it is unknown where these people are dropped off, and oftentimes family members completely lose contact with their loved ones over this matter.

Off in the distance, within a small building, two shadowy figures watched the entire process of the Pilgrimage while within the safe confines of the indoors.

“I don’t understand why Lord Mathias doesn’t delay the Pilgrimage for a couple of days,” Inquisitor Darkwood growled, his steel-clad arms crossed against his chest. His beady black eyes watched his troops drag the people across the muddy ground. He cared little for these ‘dregs’ of society, but he had severe issues that his men are to work in a harsh weather condition such as this one.

“He seemed rather determined to stick with the schedule,” Inquisitor Cox commented, leaning against a wall next to the window. She held one hand on her hip, and stood in a completely relaxed position. She hardly cared for the condition of Darkwood’s troops, but her attention was completely focused upon the mysterious warrior: the Masked Inquisitor. After working in the espionage squadron for many years, she still has little to no information regarding the Masked Inquisitor’s identity. He comes and goes as he pleases, and answers directly to the Divine Trinity alone. Hell, she wasn't even sure if the Masked Inquisitor was a man or a woman.

“Pff,” Inquisitor Darkwood scoffs. “I remember the days when the Pilgrimage happened only once a season, that’s four times a year. Now, we are doing them once every month. I think its almost borderline unnecessary to do the Pilgrimage so often,” he stated aloud. However, he had little regards for the politics and population control of Sanctuary, he was more worried that he and his troops were being overworked.

The raven-haired woman paid no attention to her companion’s opinions, and her bright crimson eyes watched the figure of the Masked Inquisitor. It seemed everything was finally completed, and the Templars thrown all of the ‘dregs’ into the steel caravans. The Masked Inquisitor turned around, facing the three guardsmen protecting the front gate. He motioned them to move aside, so they can begin moving.

“Oh?” Inquisitor Cox raised a bemused eyebrow, taking notice the guardsmen ignored the Masked Inquisitor’s order. In fact, one of them drew his sword and pointed it directly to the Inquisitor, positioning himself in a very aggressive stance. Another guardsman lowered his spear, while the third one raised his crossbow. “What’s this? Now this is a first...” In all of Sanctuary’s history, the Pilgrimage has gone uninterrupted. Now, it seemed like there was a little rebellion going on.

---

“You... you release my mother right now!” one of the sword-wielding guardsmen shouted, his face flushed with anger and hatred. He was a very young man, either in his late teens or early twenties. This militant was the son of the one middle-aged lady taken away earlier, and he will not let this Pilgrimage ruin his family. He will not let his little sister grow up without a loving mother.

The other two guardsmen were his companions, but were older in age and near their late twenties and early thirties. All three of them had family members being taken away, and this was more of a spur-of-a-moment rebellion, rather than a planned act.

A couple of Darkwood’s Templars laughed out loud, nearly in disbelief that these pathetic guardsmen will stand up to them. They walked forward, drawing their own weapons, but then a raised arm stopped their movement. The Masked Inquisitor held up his arm to the Templars, before taking a menacing step forward towards the guardsmen. It seemed that the Masked Inquisitor intended to take down nuisances on his own, and will not need the help of the Templars.

Inquisitor Cox paid attention to the weapon behind the Masked Inquisitor’s back, it was apparently a large two-handed sword in a black sheathe. Now, they will finally see both the Masked Inquisitor and his weapon in action for the very first time.

The spear-wielding guardsman already charged forth, not giving the Masked Inquisitor time to draw his weapon. The militant raised his weapon, releasing a battle cry simultaneously when another thunder boomed overhead. He thrust his weapon forward and directly towards the Inquisitor’s chest, intending to pierce through his armor with a solid attack.

However, the militant’s eyes widened with shock and disbelief when his lance suddenly halted. The Inquisitor’s hand moved lightning fast like a viper, immediately grabbing the shaft of the lance with his gauntlet-hand. The Masked Inquisitor halted the attack immediately with his physical strength alone, and the steel tip of the lance was only a mere few inches away from his armor. The Masked Inquisitor squeezed his grip on the iron shaft, and then shocked everyone by easily snapping it in half as if it was wood.

The guardsman didn’t had time to react when the Masked Inquisitor’s hand wrapped around his neck, raising the militant up in the air. The militant struggled against the Inquisitor’s grip, thrashing about and attempting to pull away the squeezing hand. He could barely breathe, and would more than likely suffocate. However, the Inquisitor wanted to finish this quickly.

There was the sickening sound of a snap, and then the militant’s body slumped over lifelessly. His eyes were completely devoid of any life, and his neck was snapped by the brutality of the masked warrior. This Inquisitor would display no mercy to these treacherous soldiers.

---

“What is he doing, Mathias?!” Lady Camilla demanded, her face appalled as she turned to face the Divine King. “He is killing those men! Are you just going to let him do that, when we can simply incapacitate those soldiers and lock them up?!”

King Mathias stared down at the scene, and watched as the militant with the crossbow shoot several bolts towards the Masked Inquisitor. The Inquisitor simply maneuvered the corpse he was holding, and allowed body to act like a shield as the the bolts pierced into its back. The silver-clad warrior then threw the corpse with incredible force and speed, and it crashed against the cross-bow militant. There was a yelp of pain as the militant dropped his crossbow on to the ground.

“They are traitors, Camilla, and the punishment they deserve is immediate execution,” King Mathias stated with finality, sharing no empathy for these poor souls that dared to defy his rule.

The militant struggled to get the corpse off his body, but then his eyes widened in terror as the Masked Inquisitor was already standing above him. He apparently tried to scream the Inquisitor to stop, but the Masked Inquisitor raised his leg and then stomped down. The guardsman’s head easily crushed beneath the Inquisitor’s incredible strength, leaving it nothing more than a squished pile of flesh, bone, blood, and brain liquid.

Lady Camilla only gasped at the grotesque sight, and saw the last guardsman - a young boy - shaking with terror as he watched his companions easily killed by the might of the Masked Inquisitor.

“You can’t do this, Mathias!” Lady Camilla quickly turned to face the Divine King again, her fiery-red hair swirling around. “You need to make the call and stop your Inquisitor! That is just a child, will you seriously execute him? He is just a boy! Spare him, and let him be fairly tried for his crime! He doesn't deserve to have his young life taken away in such a barbaric manner! He is just a boy!”

Divine King Mathias stood there silently for a short while, holding his breath while he watched the Masked Inquisitor take a few menacing steps towards the young militant. Mathias raised his hand, fixing his wet blonde hair and wiping away the water droplets on his forehead. “That will be a sign of weakness, Lady Camilla,” he stated aloud, not bothering to look at her in the eye. “This is the first ever rebellion of the Pilgrimage, and we need to ensure it is the last.”

The militant swung his blade across, attempting to decapitate the approaching Inquisitor. However, the masked knight simply raised his left arm, letting his left forearm block the blade. The weapon didn’t even make a dent against his durable armor. Immediately, the Inquisitor’s right arm grabbed the boy’s weapon hand, gripping it tightly while slamming his right elbow against the boy's face.

The boy cried out in pain, releasing his grip on the sword - which the Inquisitor quickly took away. The young militant’s nose was smashed, blood dripping down like a small torrent. The boy looked up, and completely froze with the image of the monster before him. The three guardsmen couldn't do anything to stop him, and the Inquisitor didn't even need to draw his own weapon. The boy felt tears pour down from his eyes, and then his legs gave in and collapsed against the ground. The boy knelt before Inquisitor, sobbing and begging for his life, begging to be spared so that his father and little sister didn’t lose two family members in one day.

“If we spared this young man for his treachery, others more sinister will take advantage of our act of kindness. And that will be the beginning of a new war in Sanctuary, one that may threaten to tear us apart from the inside-out.”

The Masked Inquisitor raised up the blade, aiming directly at the young man’s neck.

“May God judge his soul now...”

The blade swung down.

---

One Day Later...

Anna Catriona slammed the glass shot down on the wooden counter, sighing in relief. It has a been a rather long week of work, since Inquisitor Caleb's squadron has been stationed at the town of Jericho for the entire week. Monsters attacks have been on the rise lately, and so they ensured the safety on one of the most vital towns. Throughout the week, there were a couple of attacks from the Scourge Beasts, but they were easily handled by the squadron. There were about only ten to fifteen monsters per raid, and thus the Templars and the militants easily outnumbered the Beasts and killed them off.

They just returned to the city of Sanctuary this morning, but the weather was still pretty bad. She could hear the heavy rain pour outside of Jacob's Tavern, along with the occasional thunder. Once they arrived at Sanctuary, the squadron was allowed to break and enjoy their free time. They shouldn't have another mission for about another week. Anna Catriona intended to take advantage of every precious second. Once released, she quickly returned to her small home, taking a quick shower and getting rid of her battle-armor. Now, her body was adorned with tight leather black pants, fashionable black books, and her signature black chiffton blouse top - and one could easily see her black undergarment and creamy-pale skin beneath.

Anna glanced around, it was a rather lively place tonight. Many of her fellow Templars also decided to enjoy themselves tonight at the tavern, drinking and interacting with each other. Anna herself might smoke a Beatus or two later on tonight, just to get herself that exhilarating high. She glanced at the bartender, beckoning him for another shot of hard liquor. Most of the squadron already heard the news of yesterday's events, and learned that the Pilgrimage had a small interruption with a foolish rebellion by three guardsmen. All three of them were quickly executed by the Masked Inquisitor, and now many more questions surround the mysterious warrior and his incredible strength. Regardless, Anna herself wasn't interested in the Inquisitor's secrets, and was more interested in having fun for the night, and get a couple of thrills.

Anna smiled to herself as she waited for her next drink, glancing around the room again. She is the newest recruit to the squadron - and the youngest - but Anna already felt like she found a family. It was such an amazing feeling, especially after living in the slums for the past several years. She owed everything to Isaac for changing her life, and then briefly wondered where the Senior Templar's location.

She would assume that Isaac would also be in the tavern, enjoying the company of his closest friends and co-workers. Then again, he could still be in a debrief with Inquisitor Caleb, which is mandatory for a Senior Templar after every completed mission. Also, he could be spending time with his daughter, especially it has been a terribly long week for him, and surely he missed that little rascal.

Anna smiled to herself again as the bartender quickly returning, handing over another shot glass.

[Maya]

Did anyone else notice the rain seems unrelenting these days? Maybe it was all in her head. The dark clouds and pummeling drops looming over them the entire way back had a way of drenching not only her clothes; but, that jovial demeanor which normally got Kiera in trouble in the first place. Might chalk that up as a positive if only she wasn't soaked through to the very bone. Even so, man it was good to be home! Already, her sites were aimed towards a hot bath, warm meal and, perhaps a trip to the tavern if sleep didn't claim her first. Her little house was just as she'd left it with the exception of a spider on the windowsill and a few dust bunnies. She wasn't a glam girl, so there was just enough furniture to be comfortable; yet, not enough for the whole squadron to cop a squat for too long. After kicking off those muddy boots and placing them on the doormat, the spider and dust were quickly dispatched outside with a few sweeps of a broom. The bath was filled with steaming hot water and a bit of vanilla bubble bath. Thirty minutes and two pruney feet later, that drain was finally unplugged on the sweet piece of heaven until another day.

Slipping into jeans, a dark green button up shirt and a rain coat, Kiera would tug on those muddy work boots, because there was no reason to get her good shoes muddy, and head out the door with the hood tucked down over her head. First stop, the bakery to see her stepmother. They'd have a short reunion, make small talk,share a blueberry scone and work out an order to be delivered once she'd left. Then the girl was off to see what was shaking at Jacob's.

Back at Isaac's, there be a knock on the door as a delivery boy dropped off a package from the bakery with a note that simply said. "To Kaitlyn, from K" The box, tied with a pretty, purple bow, was brimming with chocolate brownies, sugar cookies and melt in your mouth fudge. An absolute sugar high in the making. Kiera had been sending Isaac's daughter a gift box every time the squadron returned from a mission since Kaitlyn's mother had vanished. She'd noticed how much Isaac hand changed after the loss of his wife and realized how hard it must be to raise a child alone. So, in her own little way, she was letting them know somebody cared. Maybe the sentiment stemmed from the loss of her own mother at such a young age. Maybe he knew who was spoiling his daughter completely or maybe he didn't. The tradition would carry on regardless.

Even so, she never waited around to see the delivery take place. By then, she'd be walking into the tavern offering a grin to anyone she knew. Anna being first on the list. "Hey, pup. What's going on?" Ruffling the woman's hair while plopping down beside her at the bar. With the girl being the youngest member, of course there was some ribbing to do. "What are we drinking? Milk?" Rapping her knuckles on the bar top to get the tenders attention.

"Usual, Kiera?"

"Yep.." tossing the guy a quick wink and some coins for payment. In return, he'd slide a cup of hot tea with lemon her way. Ooo, heavy drinker here! Look out! "I learned my lesson about alcohol and strange drugs a long time ago." Just waiting for Anna to make a comment. "Laugh if you must. If I'm going to railroad someone at cards or dice latter, I need my wits about me." Letting a little chuckle slip before puckering those lips to blow over the steaming cup. "Seriously though, how's things going?"

[Cfavano]

Giggles could be heard from a secluded corner of Jacob's tavern. Matthew was sitting there with one of the local girls on his lap. Currently, he was doing body shots off of her, and was licking excess salt poured around the glass tucked in her copious bosom. Putting his lips around the glass, he picks it up with his teeth and, tilting his head back, he downs it. While this happens, Matthew snakes a hand up her skirt and begins fondling her slightly firm, yet plush. The girl blushes, "Master Tannhauser!" she whispers, "People will see!"
"And?" Matthew replies, "Why should we care?"

After saying this, he would pull her into him with his free hand, and kiss her long on the lips, working his tongue into a dance with hers while continuously fondling her bottom. For her part, she grinds her pelvis onto him, moaning with pleasure. Matthew finally pulls back from her. "Why don't we take this to somewhere...more private?" He says, and the girl blushes furiously as she leads him to her quarters, down in the basement. They won't be disturbed there.

[Kris]

The stallion hooves rocked and trashed the ground as Lady Grinz'berg rushed it for the hut, about two hours away from the main city.

The hour of dusk was drawing near and the latest thing she wanted was to get back when it was nightfall.

Some distance away a lovely, familiar voice rose from the small wooden cabin. Renee descended and walked carefully by the window.

Someone was singing.

"They say they turn by the four
Four ends of the wind.
They say they call for all
All that could be seen.

And yet, one, tremble, soul
Cannot fathom, cannot recall
The last of the smiling days..."

The door opened and the music stopped at once. Seven lasses and four boys, about fourteen or so stood up at the sight of the new comer.

The lady who played the lute, Madam Debra, somewhat heavy middle age woman smiled kindly as she put the instrument down, ready to stand and show hospitality.

"There is no need, wise lady", said Renee as she removed her hood.

The Madam nodded softly, "Would you care to stay, m'lady? I am just getting them ready for bed", she smiled, "And then I will have all the time in the world to talk".

"Let it be so"

***

"You've never cease to amaze me, Debra", Renee sipped the tea from the tiny cup which was offered to her, "You've done wonders with the place".

The woman nodded, "Nothing would have been achieved without you and many other good hearts... I hope the tea is to your liking".

"Of course..."

Debra leaned carefully, sitting on her rocking chair, "The kids are happy and that is what important. While their parents perished in the war, there is still a place for them to call home".

Renee smiled, "What about Ryan?"

"He is getting to... The kid hasn't talked at all however..."

"Nothing, huh?"

"The lady of fate was graceful enough to not allow the children witness the death of their folks. That cannot be said of Ryan. He has been traumatize... But fear not, he is a strong boy... I'm sure he will recover in no time".

"I know...", Renee nodded as she was recalling the events under which she found the boy.

"It's already dark, my lady... I would offer you to stay, but I know you will refuse, so better you make haste to your post".

"It's been a lovely visit... I've brought some food and toys...".

"They would love to have them. I will sure to give it to them".


***

Renee has made her way for her mount when she noticed blue eyes piercing her from the upper floor.

She froze for a moment, somewhat in fear.

That boy, Ryan.. the mystery of him was still a puzzle she was unable to solve and often she wondered if bringing him to the orphanage was the right thing to do. In truth, her often visits was for her to keep an eye on him.

She guessed only days will tell more...

For now she rode back to the city.

[Yamimoon]

Letum was walking home with the rest of his troop, as the rain continued to fall. Though the rain was relentless he figure that was a good thing. With the rain came the cleansing of everything that was foul with the battlefield. The scourge they had finished eliminating not more than two days past was being cleaned away. The blood that soaked the battlefield was being cleansed by the rain. Even the blood he had on himself was no more. Now they were almost home, and he was looking forward to getting to the bar and having a couple of drinks. He loves the battlefield, but even he needs to get away from everything that haunts him.

Like how in the two years that he has been on his mission, he has had no real success in his endeavors. He has failed to find an opportunity to kill any of his targets. None of them even have a moment of weakness, nor are they easy to get to. He shook his head at this as he continued to march towards the city. Though his clothes were drenched from head to toe, he was not going to miss going to the bar once he gets back.

The moment he got back into town he went straight home to change his outfit, and allow his armor to dry. He entered the little one bedroom apartment where he stayed. He didn’t live in the slums, but it was close enough to them to make the rent dirt cheap. He felt more at home in this neighborhood then in the main city. Besides it makes it easier when a member of the assassins come to try and take his head. Beginning to remove his armor he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but he didn’t react to the sensation. ‘Speak of the devil!’ Letum thought to himself as he continued to get undressed. Once he was down to his undergarments is when the assassin struck.

Dropping from the rafters in the roof to try and impale the traitor with her sword, but she had been found out and her target moved with such speed that she truly had no time to react. By the time she hit the ground and looked around for Letum, the man already had the tip of his sword at her throat. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor, and she could almost feel his blood lust. “So they sent a woman after me this time. Maybe they think I will show you mercy and let you kill me.” He said in a calm but deadly tone.

He looked over the female assassin with a sinister smile on his face. Knowing good and well that he would have to kill her, no matter if she was family or not. There were things he needed to do to keep his cover, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use her to send a message to the rest of the assassins to back off. Though he would have to wait till most of the people in town were asleep. Besides he didn’t want to break his habit of going to the bar after a mission. So he would come back to finish playing with her. “Sorry my dear, but you are going to have to take a nap.” He said as he quickly moved behind her, and struck her at the base of the head with his sword. Just hard enough to knock her out.

He tied and gaged the woman throwing her into the closet. He would deal with her later. For now he got dress in his usual casual clothing, and walked out the door. This time locking the door behind him. He didn’t want anyone to find her until he was done with her. So he quickly made his way over to Jacob's tavern, hoping not to get too wet in the process. Where most of the others would be gathered.

By the time he got there most everyone was already in the Tavern doing what they usually do. Matthew was doing his thing with the women that he liked to play with, and thankfully he did it in the privacy of a room. Letum was not in the mood to watch his actions tonight, besides he will be having his own ‘Fun’ later. But for now he took a position at the bar, and motioned to the bartender that he was ready to order a drink. He saw that Kiera, and Anna were at the other end of the bar having a little chat. He really didn’t care to socialize unless he needed to. Once the bartender asked him what he wanted he ordered the strongest spirit they currently had in stock. He was only going to have one drink. Just enough to get a buzz, but not enough to hinder his judgment.

[TheDoctor]

Another dreamless sleep.

Templar Jerris Greymir lay in his undergarments upon his bed, his sheets tangled around his legs. His eyes gazed lifelessly at the wooden ceiling above, watching the unmoving framework which held his roof aloft. After their return from Jericho, he immediately returned to his home and took ample time to rest. Days outside of the city frequently resulted in little sleep for Jerris, so he took what time he could to rest and recuperate in preparation for whatever tasks could await him.

He hadn't dreamed for thirteen years. Did he even know what dreams were in the first place?

Had he ever dreamed before?

Jerris swung his legs to the side and stood, arms stretching with quiet pops. A pair of slim khakis and a white button-down lay in a pile upon the bedside table, his standard attire for non-combative affairs. Minutes later, he was fully dressed with a pair of black shoes upon his feet. His eyes scanned over the bedroom, all so very plain in its appearance. A bed, a table, a desk, a lantern; the bare necessities.

As he descended downstairs, he found the setup similarly bland. A kitchen with a stove, oven, and meal utensils, a sitting area with a fireplace, a couch and a few chairs, a restroom, and a storage closet under the stairs. Matching colors and homely decorations were unnecessary, but small home was kept in perfectly clean condition. Jerris may not have cared about comfort, but a lack of cleanliness showed a cluttered mind.

The outdoors seemed even less colorful than the indoors with a gentle rainstorm over the night sky. With a gentle exhale, Jerris dawned his navy cloak, raised the hood, and exited his home, locking the door behind him. Isaac was most likely meeting with Inquisitor Caleb if he hadn't already, but he would be at his home regardless. Jerris frequented there between missions to discuss various aspects of the Senior Templar's squadron, for he never really felt like he was "off the job," so to speak.

The Scourge Beasts were always preparing, always working, always slaughtering. Why shouldn't he?

Turning down the melancholy row of houses and stepping across a puddle on the long cobble road, he navigated down the street to another intersection lit by bold torches. Isaac's home resided in a much more lavish district than Jerris's, for not only was Isaac a Senior Templar, but a father. He was a family man with a daughter and a wife...well, without a wife. Jerris tried to avoid that topic when possible. Emotional sympathy was not his strong suit, and he was far too apathetic to trust himself to talk about in sensitively. He may have had Isaac's trust, but there were some things you just didn't say.

And his daughter, Kaitlyn? In her presence, even Jerris sometimes found it difficult to remain stoic. Her aura was warm and welcoming, and her attitude just as snappy as her mother's from what Jerris could tell in the short time he had known her. He never worked well with kids--or really, worked at all with them--but when he looked at the girl, he felt a spark of life kindling a subtle ember behind his cold, icy blue eyes.

Were they even his eyes, though?

After an uncomfortably soggy walk, Jerris brushed the sodden front of his white air away from his eyes, gazing upon the Hills' household. It was as good of a home as one could find for a little girl in Sanctuary, which, although not ideal, was better than many of the living districts in the metropolis. He quickly stomped down the footpath to the front door and knocked punctually, standing beneath the extension of the slanted roof over the front door. An uncomfortable drip fell from the edge directly onto the center of his back, causing his dull eyes do grow even dimmer.

But one did not rush a Senior Templar.

[Sonic]

.

[Scottie]

Thumping her head into the lumpy mattress, Sophia let out a frustrated groan. It had been a long week and to return to grey weather only made her more infuriated. She rolled over onto her back, staring at the rafters above her. Counting the knots in the wood, like she did when she could not sleep. Hearing the rain patter against the glass only made her press her hands to her forehead and let out another loud groan. She grumbled to herself, swear words flying as she tore off the rest of her heavy armour.

Letting herself slide into a hot bath, she tried not to think of the news that met them when they arrived home. Three guardsmen slaughtered in the streets. For trying to protect their family. For trying to keep their families together. Her forehead crinkled as she thought of it all, it was stupid. So fucking stupid. But she couldn’t complain. No, it was for a higher purpose, all those pilgrimages. Another stream of curses fell from her lips as she dragged herself from the bath and got dressed.

She left her hair down, the ends still wet and curling as she exited the small room called home. It was a simple room, above an old tired tavern. The man there knew her father, gave her the room as soon as he saw her searching. As she exited through the tavern, with only two resident drinkers within, she forced a small smile for the man who got her a roof over her head.

Once outside that smile disappeared. With her normal attire of dark brown trousers, beige tank with a greenish loose open blouse over it ,she didn’t truly stand out. Her heavy boots made sure her presence was known when she wanted it. Her presence in the streets was skimmed over, she looked almost boyish as she walked along the streets towards the Tavern. She didn’t care for the rain, letting it wet her hair again and soak through the thin blouse.

Entering the warmth of Jacob’s tavern was a welcomed relief. Sophia flicked her eyes over the occupants. Hearing the shrill giggles of the working women in the corners, made her internally groan. She rolled her eyes seeing Matthew disappear off into the darkness with one. Another few Templars were dotted around the tavern but she didn’t feel like speaking with them just yet. Moving to the opposite of the bar from her fellow Templars, she ordered a pint of ale then disappeared upstairs.

Taking a seat near the open banister, she took a small gulp of the golden liquid. Resting her feet up on the table, she rested the chair back until it hit the wall. She never liked to leave her back open to attacks, even in one of the safest places in the Sanctuary. She tapped her fingertips against the glass, watching every person who entered the tavern with hawk eyes.

[☆Catwoman☆]

Their squadron had just returned to Sanctuary that bleak, horrid morning, so she had missed the debacle of the previous day. Still, the city was rife with rumors, and to these the young woman listened with interest. Another Pilgrimage, same as every other.

Until it wasn’t.

Foolish guards had defied the Divine King and thus defied God Himself, or so the rumors went. The Masked Inquisitor had dealt with their impudence swiftly and without mercy, slaying them to the last. Then the old and infirm had been “escorted” out of the city, as usual.

Yelena could imagine the spectacle well enough without hearing the morbid details whispered of around her. Her lip curled slightly in disgust at the deceptive name of the drama; “Pilgrimage” sounded so righteous, so idealistic, as if the victims of it were making some kind of honorable and faithful journey for their God. Yet what Yelena had witnessed time and again was no faith-induced ascendance into God’s good graces. It was a round-up, pure and simple. Men and women considered useless to society were dragged into caravans and taken away, never to be seen again, their loved ones crying and screaming to the heavens with only silence to answer their pleas. It was a nightmare scenario, one that had Yelena drinking herself into oblivion more than once.

But it was necessary. Sanctuary and her outlying towns could only support so many. The Pilgrimage was the grim answer to their dilemma.

May I never grow old, she thought, sipping the watered-down swill this tavern called whiskey.

She thought of her parents then. She had not gone to see them yet, perched comfortably in their estate in the highest levels of Sanctuary. In truth, she knew that she had nothing to fear in growing old, as unlikely as it was to occur, and neither did they. Nobility was protected from the Pilgrimage, their support and wealth too important to subject them to such a dreadful ordeal. For this, they were quietly despised.

Yelena’s icy eyes were glued to her glass as she sat contemplating life’s little annoyances in Jacob’s Tavern, the go-to place for Templars to drink themselves under the table after a difficult and dangerous foray into the Borderfields and beyond. She sat in a corner booth, legs neatly crossed, bouncing her foot unconsciously in time with her forefinger, which tapped silently against her glass of whiskey. It was a tick of hers, one that betrayed an otherwise cool demeanor, signaling that she was anxious or deep in thought.

She looked up in time to see one of the tavern’s patrons leering at her. His eyes traveled up her long legs, visible from the slit in her black and crimson dress, appreciated the contours of her body, lingered on her bosom, then finally met her own gazing orbs. Rather than looking chagrined at having been caught staring, he offered a salacious grin. She batted her long lashes and gave him a warm smile in return, then polished off her drink, set the empty glass on the table, and stood. The graying gentleman’s grin broadened as she strutted towards him--

--then died as she walked right past.

Yelena’s ruby lips curled slightly in private amusement, then tempered as she approached two familiar faces perched at the bar. She had spotted Matthew, his appetite for women voracious as usual, and glimpsed Letum seated by his lonesome and looking content to keep it that way. Sophia, too, had entered moments before and chosen a dark little corner to squat in, obviously not interested in socializing. So for now, Yelena entered into the company of Anna and Kiera, gesturing to the bartender as she approached and ordering her third so-called “whiskey”. She slid a coin across the polished wooden bar as she slipped into the seat beside Kiera. The currency was soon exchanged with another small glass of cheap alcohol--cheap, but it still did the trick. Eventually.

“A fine, muddy day to you, ladies,” Yelena greeted. Her eyes fell to Kiera’s chosen beverage. She could swear it was tea. “Seriously?” she asked, tone colored with mild incredulity. Then she shrugged her bare shoulders and took a swig of her liquor. She nodded towards Anna’s shot glass appreciatively.

“She at least knows how to party,” the young woman quipped with a smile. But her eyebrow raised and her lips puckered in a pout as she glanced into the contents of her own glass. “Well…at least she would know how, if this tavern’s alcohol was worth a damn.”

She was beginning to think she had an unhealthy obsession with spirits…

[AngelWing]

The golden haired man looked out of place, standing outside of the tavern dressed in a loose tunic and black trousers. His boots were worn but were comfortable--some of the only remnants from his past before Zion or the Sanctuary. He already didn't like it here; he'd heard about what happened at the Pilgramage the day before. Those guardsmen... He already hated the Pilgramage, and what happened the day before only made him hate it more. Elders weren't useless--they controlled his home town of Judah; and the mentally ill were useful as well--given the chance they could do most jobs put before them. This was why he hated the Sanctuary. Even still, he smiled and laughed, letting his true self hide beneath the face he wore. The promise he was keeping to his oldest friend.

This place can't get much darker than what it already is...no point in changing my smile just because I hate it. He chuckled at himself, shaking his head as his gold eyes flashed in the light. His tunic covered most of the scars on his body save for his face and his good-ball nature covered the scars on his mind. For the most part, he could play the regular guy; which helped him out around here. He could talk to just about anyone and, while they would think him slightly too peppy perhaps, they'd never know that his true nature was something much darker entirely. He looked up at the quiet steps coming around the corner, his seismic sense telling him who it was instantly and his grin growing slightly. "Hiya, Leo."

This Leo was actually a girl, despite the masculine touch in the name. Her hair was a golden color with blond streaks. Cut short it hung around her face in a wild look, making her look a bit, well, wild. Just how she liked it. Leo, whose first name was actually Leona, lifted her right hand and waved slightly at the other golden haired being. Lighting up, her eyes portrayed pleasure at seeing her friend, one of the only ones she called friend. Her legs are up the ground and she reached the side of the Tavern in no time.

"Hey Saul!" Her voice was quiet but carried as she stood in front of him. Her stature was an inch shorter than the six foot man who stood before her, a smile on his face. Leo smiled up at him, a rare feature for her when she was around others, and her smile quickly dropped off her face. Still, her eyes showed compassion for Saul, just as his smile was a bit softer than usual and brighter in a way. Stuffing her hands in her pockets of the skinny black leather jeans she wore, knives visible by her thighs and hidden in her combat boots, she tilted her head towards the Tavern. Her corset she wore covered her chest and most of her stomach, some scars able to be seen from her hips and small of her back. "Wanna go in?"

Saul smiled at her, chuckling softly as her smile faded as quickly as it came. She wasn't peppy, really, and always spoke quietly, but she could always make him smile. The scars on his face wrinkled slightly more when he smiled at her, a sign his smile was just a bit different to her than to others. He enjoyed her company where others wondered how she was any fun at all. Perhaps because she was staying in the guest room at his house, but he understood her better than most of the others in the squad. She was withdrawn, true, but only to those that deserved it. She was picky about who she called friend was all; just as he was picky about who he was loyal too. She was one of the few people.

"Sure, if you're up for it." Saul said, smirking at her. It wasn't often he could get her to go to the tavern with the rest of the squad, so it was nice to at least see she was here. "I'll buy the drinks this time around, yeah?"

Nodding, she reached up and patted his chest, just three pats, which was like a hug from her as she was not one for touch unless in her room and scared, then she was a massive cuddler. But around a bunch of strangers, even with her only friend in front of her? No way. She straightened her back, and looked up, meeting the pretty eyes, and nodded once, before leading the way to the Tavern, opening the door and holding it for Saul. He was a charming man, all smiles, and he was quite lively. In her mind he was her brother than lived, one not connected by blood but by friendship. He seemed to never stop smiling, but he had his own scars. Ones he hid, just as much as she showed hers off by wearing short shirts.

She turned her head following Saul's movements, and blinked in amusement. "You do that." She never really went out, it was a hassle to be crowded in a bar, with people who did not know who she was wanting to try and take her home. never ended well. But this place was local and known to house Templars so she hoped it was better than the past few experiences. She would try something, she could handle the hard liquor but she preferred juice. Just something about her that Saul knew.

Saul nodded, ducking inside and smirking at the crowd, keeping close to Leona as they made their way through the other Templars and to the bar. He waved the bartender down, waiting till he came over. Usual for me, and a rum juice for Leona. One part rum, two parts juice." The bartender nodded, making the drinks easily as Saul put the money on the counter. He took the drinks and handed Leona her's. "Give that a try."

He looked around the tavern as he drank his whiskey and rum, gold eyes flashing again as he spotted Anna and the other members of their squad. "Looks like almost everyone is out relaxing tonight, that's a good thing." The next mission was a distance away, as long as nothing else came up between now and then. He'd be fine, they all would, with a few days or weeks rest. That was all it would take really.