'Jeeves.'

Guh... What the hell...

'You're coming with me. No questions asked.'


Voices fading in and out of his consciousness. Memories of events a few hours before. A planned kidnapping of one of the most powerful supernatural figures that lived on the Earth. An earthquake. A golden thread. Details too blur and fuzzy to remember clearly. Something about a man named Audience, and his wish for him to capture a target named Jeeves...

Speaking of Earth...

Daniel woke up with a start, sunlight shining bright on his face as he sat up on the dusty ground. A gentle breeze blew from his left, cool and damp, the sound of rushing water accompanying it. Perhaps a river, or a stream. However, something nagged at him. As he stood up, brushing dirt off his jeans, he looked around.

Wait a moment. This isn't New York City.

The area around him was a dusty path, next to a wide, flowing river. In front of him, on the horizon, was what looked to be a large town. The river flowed alongside the town, so it could be determined that the town relied on the river, for food and trade. Across from him, and across the river, townspeople could be seen fishing from the crystal clear waters with long nets, making huge catches occasionally and shouting in glee. Some of them noticed him looking, and waved. He waved back, trying very hard to look local.

Dan sighed. This was definitely not New York, or any place in the USA, for that matter. He didn't even believe that he was on Earth any more. His weapons were still there. Both pistols, and his katana, plus all the modern devices he had, including his pack of cigarettes and his zippo. He slipped a cig out of the pack and lit it, dragging lightly and puffing a small smoke ring out again. He stuck a hand in his pocket, pulling out his cellphone. No reception, no local service. He'd expected that, but wanted to make sure.

As he stood there, thinking about what to do next, he heard the clip-clop rhythm of hooves on dirt. Thinking it to be some hooved animal or another, wandering through the forest, he followed the sounds, thinking the animal to be his food for today. When he saw puffs of dust rising in the distance, he stopped. He knew what were the animals that were making their way towards him. Horses. And where there were horses, there were people on them. Travellers, possibly. He slipped the hood on his jacket over his head, and made his way towards the travellers. When he saw three horses some distance away, he raised his hands and waved at them, while shouting :

'Hey! Over here!'

Nayo suddenly appeared at the back of the group astride his bray. He had spent the morning putting the finishing touches on a previous business agreement which meant that there was yet another corpse laying in a pool of blood somewhere. As he trotted out of the woods however, Nayo appeared as calm and level headed as ever. After so much time, murder ceased to phase him.

He raised an eyebrow at Alice as he trotted up to her, noticing a new comer to the party. A quick one-over gave him the impression that this girl was a slave, and shook his head at the thought of how much trouble Alice may have caused in his absence. "How much are you paying me again?" He inquired pointing a thumb at the slave girl. "This isn't going to make my job more difficult is it?"

Before Alice got a chance to answer, Nayo turned his Bray around and fell into place behind her. He wasn't really interested in her answer as he always knew exactly how much he was being paid for a job, and he could guess as to the answer to his second question.

He gave a nod to the others and diverted his full attention to their surroundings, on full alert for anyone who could possibly be waiting along side of the road for an ambush or any other potential dangers as had become habit over the years. His hand quickly brushed up against his sword and he felt the familiar warmth that came over him every time he touched his weapons. His best friends. His thoughts began to wander as he systematically surveyed the area over and over again and he soon blocked everyone else out.

The bray began to move, the sudden momentum forward accompanied by a crash behind them. A single perked brow adorned her hidden face as she glanced over her shoulder, her lavender orbs taking in the sight of the rather large man accidentally undoing his harness. If she could have, she would have giggled. Instead, her body shook with silent laughter, no sound emitting from her. She moved to slide of the mount to help him; she had dealt with brays in the past and between the two of them she figured they could probably get the harness back on correctly.

But then she felt Alice begin slouching, her form easing to one side. Concerned, she turned back around, keeping her grip upon the older woman’s shoulders, helping her to maintain her position upon the Bray. She scooted forward a bit, forcing her form more tightly against hers, her neck craning about to try and see over Alice’s shoulder to have a glimpse of the woman’s face. No luck. She decided to keep a good hold upon her for some time, unsure of exactly what was going on. She could feel the woman’s slight shaking, but had no way of asking if she was okay. So she sat back and tried to steady her, one tender hand upon her shoulder, the other stroking the woman’s arm calmly.

Her attention was pulled from Alice as the odd-looking man’s form appear beside them. She blinked, the startled expression hidden beneath the sapphire hood. Her eyes slowly fell into a slight narrow as his joking comment was issued to Alice; he was unaware of her seemingly upset condition, so she would let it pass without reprimand. She gave a silent sigh, meaning to turn her amethyst gaze back to the foliage they were beginning to enter, when the odd man spoke directly to her. She was taken aback; only Alice and the elf boy had spoken directly to her since she had been in town. His words proved him observant, and lucky. Her hood usually hid her features well, but the movement of the steed had allowed the fabric to slip back some and reveal the subconscious dialogue that was running through her mind: she was still worried about the bray. It took her a second to gather herself before she attempted a smile, her curved lips mostly hidden by her satin mask.

Miss Elf? She mentally mused over this, her head cocking to the side as she began to think. None of those within the group knew her name, and she knew none of theirs, other than Alice’s and… Jack, was it? None within the party had even attempted a formal greeting, had offered their name. And, what was even more odd, was that no one had asked her for hers. No one seemed the least bit interested in the fact that she hadn’t said a word the entire time she had been present. Alice hadn’t reprimanded her for not offering a ‘thank you’ when she had saved her, Jack hadn’t requested her for her name when he had given his, no one had questioned how she had gotten mixed up with the slave traders. They were all oblivious and seemed to honestly not care. For all the group knew she could be a mass murderer with a hunger for Lycan flesh. She so desperately wanted to inform the odd man next to them, wanted to offer her name as a correction for the ‘Miss Elf’ statement, wanted to communicate somehow… but she had no parchment handy. She licked her lips, the extension of her tongue making but the slightest wet mark on the teal satin as she readied herself to begin a few motions, an attempt to somehow spell out her name, when yet another new face came trotting up beside them.

The gesture he gave and his words made her shiver in anger, but she had the mind to pull her hood up a bit to hide her visage. She didn’t know what his job was, and didn’t care to find out, but she certainly wasn’t going to make it any harder. True, she tended to get into tight situations, but she was always able to bat her pretty purple eyes and get away with almost anything. Yes, beauty could be a curse, but it could also be an advantage. She didn’t consider herself beautiful, perhaps average. But there were things any female could do that would present an air of beauty and/or sexuality. Enid had mastered those ‘things’ long ago, and it had infuriated her mother. Instead of acting like a lady, well, Enid usually chose to turn on the charm. It was usually more fun that way, anyways.

Her form snapped to attention when she realized she had heard something ahead of them. Perhaps it was her elven hearing, perhaps she was just the first to react, but she peered down the long path, her eyes befalling another young man. Her brows furrowed, he looked weird to her… the way he dressed, his mannerisms. The best she could do was tap both Alice and the odd looking man beside their mount and motion towards the newcomer, a long, slender, gloved finger directly pointing at him.

Leaving the hustling, bustling town and Tavern behind became quite disappointing when Jeeves came to think of it. He realized that he had made friends there -- Alice and Gunther -- even though they were only a few. However, it too was nice to leave the sweaty tavern and its occupants, the smelly markets with its undying, remorseless crowd of hawkers and seamen behind for the wild, virgin land that they were headed too. Maybe a place where an ever-lasting peace can be achieved by both mind and body.

Jeeves had drifted deep into his wild imagination, so much so that he did not realize the extra Bray that had entered the group. A silent hum left his lips, curled upwards they were with his eyes closed as the sunlight befell onto his face; his body absorbing its ambience.It was heavenly, the full force of nature was within his grasp, the tick of time left his body, as the impeccable beauty of nature grew closer and closer.

All this was a mere mirage, as he flung himself back to reality hearing the voice of a man from afar. It did not seem to be threatening, nor calling for help. A friendly tone it was, beckoning everyone's ears to listen its to its manly call. The elven girl had already noticed it, nothing surprising there as most elves have ridiculously sensitive hearing. He finger pointed to its direction, Jeeves only following its path after taking a slight look at it.

His black balls of sight sought out the owner of the tone, creeping from side to side, valiantly searching. Then, a little up the road, he saw a man dressed rather weirdly compared to the others. He knew his own clothing was unique amongst the creatures that resided in this world, but he had never seen anyone else clad in modern Earth's casual clothing. "Another traveler, I presume. It seems our fates meet in the most unexpected of places," he whispered to himself, as he looked up at Alice. "There is a man who calls to us, Miss Alice. Are we to heed his call or otherwise?" he asked Alice, looking up at her for the first time.

The movement the elf made shook him from the memory and he swore at himself, letting his thoughts cloud his mind in such a risky position… He shifted his grip as his fingers clutched and released, keeping his hold firm as he was suddenly swung in a high arc with the fabric. The motion straining his already tense muscles, so as to not be whipped from his purchase and exposed for what he was and where he was… Yet As soon as things seemed to calm the heat began to drift to his eyes once more…

It had been maybe a week or two after meeting up with Rahiki… Reaper found out quickly he wasn’t the only assassin hired, seeing the other three from the tavern as well. The mission started off interestingly when he “accidentally” fired off his crossbow while cleaning it and it happened to snap a rope hauling some supplies off the ship before the load crushed six of the fourteen gathered assassins. The sailors moved quickly to throw both the dead and injured bodies overboard.

Now he was huddled around the fire in the swirling mists of the small forest where he and three others hid. The half-elf, the shape shifter, and the third… who turned out to be a human… all found each other right off the bat and agreed to take out the competition and get a split reward in the end… no sense in rogues killing rogues…. They had already removed all but two of the assassins and tonight was the final night before they found their target.

Reaper was acknowledged as the silent leader of the group, the only time they heard him make a noise was when he coughed or grunted a reply. He rarely even wrote or drew words to them, yet his plans and drawings spoke in volumes of direction to them. Tonight he and the Shape Shifter would go to take out the final two assassins, a Lycan... more of a werecat… and an elf as well. Tonight there was a full moon so the Lycan would be dangerous to cross, while the elf had the advantages of the forests…

…It was a few hours later and Reaper and the Shape Shifter was watching the perimeter of the other assassin campsite. The shape shifter grabbed him and whispered slowly into his ear, “Listen here you… You never talk, I don’t like that… I can sense the Lycan part of you… and I don’t like that!” His voice was a harsh whisper and his breath smelled of rotting teeth and gums along with their cold dinner. Reaper shoved his hands off of him and held on finger to his hood and moved to his position, leaving the shape shifter snarling after him.
Reaper left the campsite a few hours later. The camp ground seemed to be in perfect order until the small drops of blood splattered on the earth. High in the limbs of the trees that surrounded the campsite three mangled bodies beyond recognition hung by their own entrails from the thick limbs. One of them looked like a wolf that had been strangled by its own tail, which had been brutally ripped off of the body.

No one brought up this missing shape shifter when he returned… in fact no one was even surprised in the least…

Reaper awoke to the rocking of a ship and the small crash as miniature waves broke against the hull of the ship. His head hurt and he thought there was dried blood on the side of his head. He looked around and saw the half-elf assassin next to him, his throat cut. He looked forwards when he heard a chuckle and saw a heavy pirate in front of him. It was two weeks since they had found the pirate and the slave he stole, before he was killed he paid them, upfront, to kill Rahiki.

Reaper slit his throat anyways but he and the half-elf divided the money between them since the human opted out of it. When they returned they discovered the human assassin was really just some foolish sailor who disguised himself to spy on them. The Pirate captain turned on them and they went down before they could fight back, and now he was here.

Reaper smiled at the big man and he halted. The next thing he knew, Reaper had vanished and reappeared behind him, removing the dagger from his loosened grip and slit his throat and slowly caught the man and set him on the ground. He collected his armor, weapons and cloak and made for the top, killing the false-assassin in the struggle before stealing a landing boat and headed for the rocky shore…

Reaper snapped out of his flashback once more and scanned everything quickly, making sure nothing moved or that he had been spotted. Everything seemed in order and he relaxed… How he longed to be in the forests and following… not here… not like this…

Nayo's gaze caught the weirdly dresses man as soon as he stepped into the path. He reflexively loosened the straps on a couple of his throwing knives hidden underneath his cloak, sliding one up his sleeve before gripping the reigns of his Bray once more. The weirdly dressed man didn't appear dangerous or capable of being much of a threat as he could easily be dispatched by almost any in the group from this distance. So Nayo allowed himself to continue scanning the area wary of a trap or ambush that this man might merely be the distraction for. He failed to see any signs of anything that might ambush in the woods, and diverted his attention back to the weirdly dressed man.
Nayo rode to the front of the small convoy as his job was obviously devoted to the protection of Alice first. He galloped up ahead of the group and stopped a few meters away from the man, staring him down, waiting for him to make some sort of move if he was any sort of threat, or merely introduce himself if he was not.

Still recovering from her battle with the alchemist, Alice breathed heavily, but slowly, attempting to make no noise and alert the others. Sweat that had covered her brow was now mopped away by a square cloth of green she had fished out of her cloak, before tucking it back away again. Her eyes skimmed around, trying to remember the way. She had never seen it before, but others had. They would find the scroll holder and take his piece from him, by persuasion or more forceful means. It hardly made a difference either way.

In her fatigue, the conversation around her slipped in and out of focus, but snapped back in when she saw Nayo approach a man, who had apparently somehow just gotten their attention. Giving a slight indication to her Bray, she went forward to pull up next to the assassin, who was giving the newcomer a decidedly threatening look. Alice pushed her mind curiously towards the stranger, but was somewhat repelled. He felt different. Yet, familiar in some way. Then she remembered, her head turning just slightly as she looked to Jeeves. They were somehow similar in a way she couldn't explain. Curiosity piqued, her Bray moved forward a little more, taking the Blue-hair along for the ride.

"Greetings," she said, somewhat out of sorts. She had still been composing herself when this man had gotten her attention, and she had no idea how he had done so, and what actions anyone around her had taken since they left Sventon behind. Neither was there a weak, unaware, or willing mind that she could steal the answers from. She took a chance at asking a question that could have been asked before. "What do you want with us, stranger."

The man looked somewhat confused and out of sorts himself, but it did not occur to Alice to offer him assistance. Perhaps it would, once she knew what his intentions were. If he was a robber seeking to trick them, he would soon be a sorry one.

Noticing that he had attracted the travellers' attention, he stopped waving and yelling. As two of the riders approached him, he backed up two steps, making room for their horses as they stopped. One of the riders, a female, asked him a question.

"What do you want with us, stranger."

Dan shrugged and replied : 'Nothin' much. Just want to find out where the hell am I-' He then noticed a familiar face behind the two riders. Without pausing to finish his sentence, he pushed through the two riders up front and confronted one of them.

'Jeeves! What the hell are you doin' here?! Aren't you supposed to be back in New York?!' He nearly yelled at the man. He was infuriated, firstly because he'd found the target he was hunting in an unlikely place, second, the other man, Audience, had tricked him.

'You turn up first thing in a goddamn warehouse, now you're here in this...This...Frickin' place?! What the hell is goin' on man, and I want you to answer that, no one else!'

Very, very angrily, Dan went forward and, reaching up, grabbed Jeeves' collar, pulling him down to his eye level. He looked Jeeves straight in the eye, breathing a cloud of smoke into his face. He whispered into his ear : 'Don't worry mate. I won't kill you. Not in front of these many people. Besides, we two have a history. I wouldn't mind if you act in my little..Play...'

"You turn up first thing in a goddamn warehouse, now you're here in this...This... Frickin' place?! What the hell is goin' on man, and I want you to answer that, no one else!" the man that looked partially familiar to Jeeves roared into his face. Only after a close inspection of his facial features, the cigarette in his mouth and his jumpy attitude; accompanied by his vice-grip on Jeeves' shirt; did he recognize the man.

An insulting gesture it was, when Dan blew a plume of smoke out of the crevices of his putrid mouth onto Jeeves' face. He let out no cough, a sign of resistance to Dan's abusive nature. Then a whisper, "Don't worry mate. I won't kill you. Not in front of these many people. Besides, we two have a history. I wouldn't mind if you act in my little... Play..." Jeeves grinned, the insight into his whole past life re-entering his flourishing mind. The thought of another fight with the pet dog that belonged to Audience was quite a god given gift to him. He had longed to meet a man who could actually stand up to him; most of his would be opponents ran away, frightened by the thought of being another statistical problem that the worlds government had to solve.

"The answer to both your questions are with me, Dan. The first question, is quite simple. It seems your fate was intertwined with mine. Time has forsaken us, old friend. The loophole that time had created ended with your existance being thrown into this world. An amazing insight if your mind can possibly comprehend it," his grin grew ever larger. He spoke once again,"New York was merely a pawn in my way, its destruction was rather menial in my eyes. I hope Audience told you that before he sent you here."

Jeeves looked straight into Dan's eyes, "Then there is your idea of a fight, and my destruction. What is it that you wish to accomplish by doing such a thing? Are you forgetting that we are in a different world now? You seemed particularly casual about taking me to Audience back at the warehouse; presenting me as a gift to him. Maybe you could have gained some respect from him, or maybe you could have been his next victim of slavery. As were the ones before. And about your ploy, I think we should let everyone know about 'us'. It would really lighten their hearts."

A deeper gaze let loosed from his charcoal eyes, gazing down heavily on Dan's form, his grin growing wider, now showcasing his pearly whites. "It seems my death will give you peace, as it did your parents. Nothing amuses me more then Audience's failed attempts at capturing me. He is a rather catchy character, that man," Jeeves jested, still gazing deeply into Dan's eyes. "Now, here is my question to you, Dan: What are you going to do now? Are you willing to destroy me in front of this huge audience? Or will it be you who releases me from this vile grip, setting me free of your Earthly desires?" Jeeves questioned degradingly.

Dan growled low in his throat as Jeeves, although speaking in a polite and casual manner, gave him a few surprises about Audience's "recruitment" of him to take in Jeeves.

"It seems your fate was intertwined with mine. Time has forsaken us, old friend. The loophole that time had created ended with your existence being thrown into this world. An amazing insight if your mind can possibly comprehend it."

Dan grew a tad surprised from that statement and he loosened his grip on Jeeves' vest slightly. His fate was intertwined with Jeeves'? Strange. He had never wanted anything to do with the man in the first place. Audience had shown Jeeves as a killer, a mass-murderer, if you will. His treatment of men and women was nothing to look up to. Was Audience lying, however? Did Dan really place his trust in someone who wasn't who he seemed to be?

"You seemed particularly casual about taking me to Audience back at the warehouse; presenting me as a gift to him. Maybe you could have gained some respect from him, or maybe you could have been his next victim of slavery."

That earned another loosening of Dan's grip on Jeeves as he fell deeper into thought. Slavery? What did that have to do with Audience? Dan himself was an assassin, a mercenary, killing mercilessly for the thrill of a fat paycheck at the end of each "hunt". Or was he getting into something far more when he volunteered to take Jeeves that night?

"It seems my death will give you peace, as it did your parents."

And this about his parents? What did they have to do with all this? Was the accident that caused their deaths when he was a young boy really caused by forces he had yet to discover? Was the accident really an accident in the first place? All these questions raced through Dan's mind, maybe even more. As the holes in his memory struggled to fill themselves in, Jeeves posed a final question.

"Now, here is my question to you, Dan: What are you going to do now? Are you willing to destroy me in front of this huge audience? Or will it be you who releases me from this vile grip, setting me free of your Earthly desires?"

Audience... The name ran riot through his mind again. Distant memories, holding the answers but staying out of reach, he tried to grab them but they eluded his mental grasp. A mysterious man he noticed near the accident scene, the martial arts school proclaiming itself loudly in the local paper, what did all this mean? More holes filled themselves in. The man near the scene of the accident, he recognised it to be Audience himself. So was the accident really planned by Audience to make Dan take the path of an assassin? He let Jeeves go, dragging lightly on his cigarette, exhaling lightly. He did not remember much else, other than receiving the sum of money from his parents' accident insurance, that just so happened to cover the entrance fee to the school.

Then it clicked. His parents had apparently known of Audience beforehand, before he was even born. He had told them of his destiny, how he could not have any loved ones to witness his rise in power. He'd remembered, from earlier in his life, that they'd taken out hefty insurance policies on each other. A few months afterward, the "accident". Audience must have made it look like an accident, to confuse him in his youth. He must've known about what he would do with the money, so he placed the ad in the paper. After that, it was all Dan's own work.

Audience had made him look like a fool! Sending him on a fool's errand to take down Jeeves, that would ultimately land him in the position of Audience's right-hand man, killing only Audience's targets, receiving pay from Audience. Making him into that vampire's slave, as Jeeves had said.

Bloody hell, so its been up till this point that Audience has had his hand on my life. Well, he won't control it any longer.

Dan turned around to the rest of the riders, extinguishing his cigarette underneath the sole of his boot. 'Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for my... Impolite behaviour. Apologies to this man here, Jeeves. My name is Daniel J. Anderson, Dan for short. I was sent by... Another man, to hunt down Jeeves in New York City. Apparently it was all a trap, that would lead me here. I'm a bit confused as to where I am now, so I would like someone to enlighten me.'

Her form tensed as the man from earlier -- the one that had insulted her -- rode beyond herself and Alice. Her frown reformed upon her half-hidden visage as she sighed heavily, her shoulders moving up and down with the breathy exchange. She disliked how this man, who seemed to feel the need to protect the group, or at least Alice, rode forward and yet made no move to make a connection with the odd newcomer. More impoliteness, she mentally mused. She offered the minuteness of shakes from her head, barely indicating to those around her of her displeasure. Her mood happily changed, however, the moment she realized Alice was taking the initiative with the man.

The Bray moved beneath them both, pressing them closer to the man. As Alice spoke she allowed a smile to gently slide over her lips; it wasn’t overly friendly, but would set the man at ease about her if he even noticed her form, or, better yet, could catch the grin beneath the shadowed depths of her hood. It was once more a disheartening moment when this new man made such an aggressive move towards the other kind man that had spoken with her but a few minutes ago.

Jeeves, was it? Finally, a name for his face. Her second of contentment was wiped away by the surfacing anger this new man had for Jeeves. She swiveled her form about as much as she could, her shoulders drawing back, neck shifting. The newly acquired position pulled her hood back some, revealing a few blue tresses and a single purple eye. The light sunlight that slipped carefully through the branches illuminated the satin mask on her face, a soft glow reflecting off the somewhat shiny fabric.

It had been an automatic reaction, her grabbing for her suicide knife. As the man blew the putrid smoke into gentle Jeeves’ face, an odd rise of anger arose within herself, her hand twitching seamlessly past her sapphire cloak, revealing a long, slender leg, bare between her over-the-knee boots, also sapphire in hue, and the hem of her cotton dress, which stretched just below the sheath of her hidden blade, snuggly secured upon her upper thigh. She had pulled the fabric back, fingers curling hard against the adorned hilt of the knife, the slender blade still out of sight. She knew this blade could do little against this man, but it was an instinct of preservation for herself, and strangely for Jeeves, whom she felt an attachment to, that brought her to reveal the miniscule weapon. Her hand quivered, but stayed put, as she listened to the exchange between the two. She watched their faces, watched the physical reaction of the man as Jeeves’ words began to sink in.

Slowly, her hand unclenched and she drew her dress back down and her cloak back into position, half hoping than no one had seen the action. She snorted as the man apologized for his ‘impolite behavior’. Impolite indeed… and Daniel was it? Dan? One more name for her to remember. She privately smiled to herself; she was beginning to know who these people around her were, including names. Something so private, so special as someone’s name… she hadn’t had many chances in her life to know someone on such a friendly level as to gain the knowledge of their name. Alice, Jack, Jeeves, Dan… She chanted them over and over again within her mind, committing them to memory. Perhaps… just perhaps this Dan character would become a friend.

A friend. The thought sent conflicting shivers along her spine. Friends were a wonderful investment, there when you needed them, helpful, loving… but also backstabbing, lying, and hateful. True friendship is forged on the basis of trust, and that is what made it so delicate, so scarily unpredictable. Her amethyst gaze stumbled upon the few last wisps of smoke that rose from the extinguished cigarette, her mind returning to a time when she had had a single friend. Someone she had completely trusted, and yet she was the reason she was no longer in the clinging-- though protective -- arms of her parents. She shrugged the thought away; although she had suffered in the past, Enid was smart enough to understand that not all people were like her, not all people were so fickle. Indeed, she liked those around her, the group she had someone how come into. She would give them all a chance, perhaps their hearts were pure of evil intentions.

She gave Dan a nod, somewhat reserved in action, but it as welcoming nonetheless. She carefully repositioned her hood, forgetting that the fabric had moved to reveal more of her than she had wished. The comforting shadows were replaced and she arched her back, stretching the muscles along her spine as she cast a glance at Jeeves, just to make sure he was okay.

Thank you, Alice, she thought to herself, thank you for this chance at friendship.

As Alice listened, her eyes widened just slightly. New York...she had studied all of the tomes in her time of imprisonment, and never had she heard of such a place. Perhaps the one she sought was in such a place? Could that be why she has been unable to find him? Her lips twisted in a half smile as she felt the movement behind her. She realized that she did not have a name for the waif she had collected. Rather rude of herself, and she would remedy that at the appropriate moment.

"Dan," she stated, testing the sound of his name. "You are welcome to accompany us. We are headed a half a day's ride South of here to speak to an old friend of mine to find clues on the where abouts of some lost history of...our world. It might, perhaps, speak of yours as well, and could lead us to returning you there, should that be at all possible." She swept her hand around to make introductions, but remembering the holes in her knowledge she simply swatted her hand around for a moment, feeling a bit awkward and muttering about small pests.

Her mind went out to press around Dan, and immediately she felt his strength. Had he been in Sventon when she first arrived, she would have chosen him as well. It seemed luck was with her, and things couldn't be going better! Well, they could be going faster, she supposed, but Alice was an impatient creature.

"I wish to ride quickly now," she said, sighing at the lack of two of them having Brays, and also that some of their group, Rose in particular, had not caught up with them. "I don't suppose either of you are likely to be able to keep up?"

As he dusted himself off and mounted his bray, Gunther resumed examining the harness, though he was careful to refrain from mucking about with any of the knots or buckles. The learning process was a neverending one, he felt, and every new experience brought with it a new dish to the dining table of life, so to speak, and Gunther was always sure to savor each and every plate that came before him, keeping a memory of its flavor and taste deep within his mind.

Harnesses and buckles are not an essential part of guncraft, and as such, are best left in their unmolested and pristine condition.

Then, as they made their way towards the outskirts of Sventon, the parade of sorts was halted by yet another strangely dressed newcomer, who made quite the ruckus by grabbing Jeeves' collar, and acting like a generic bull odon in heat. But there was something rather odd about this one. From his attire, to the noticeably foreign scent of his smokeleaf roll, to his accent to boot. One thing that Gunther did find familiar was the sense of danger that radiated from this man, the very same one that an experienced predator or a massive siege engine might exude. And the newcomer, who Jeeves had addressed as 'Dan', positively reeked of it. Almost subconsciously, Gunther unholstered his rifle, positioning it in his hands such that if the situation were to call for it, the gun would be raised and fired in a split second.

Luckily, once a few words were exchanged between Jeeves and Dan, the latter adopted a more friendly tone and introduced himself to the group. As a response, Gunther slung his firearm back to its original position on his back, and acknowledged him with a slight nod and a cheery tap of his hat. However, his concentration was on the elf Alice had rescued; from the corner of his peripheral vision, he had seen her reach ever-so-slightly up her dress, seemingly towards a concealed weapon of some sort. Come to think of it, he didn't know her name either. Here Dan's name was already known throughout the party, and this veiled elf girl had yet to reveal her own.

A plan was quickly formulated, and put into place. Casually, he brought his bray to stand alongside that of Alice, and faced the elf with a half-smile upon his visage. "Speakin' of introductions, ah don't believe we've formally done so to each other. Mah name's Gunther, though family likes to call me Gunney. Ah'm a hunter by profession, and that's about it fer me, really. Simple life's all ah need. So what be your name, missy?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for my... Impolite behaviour. Apologies to this man here, Jeeves. My name is Daniel J. Anderson, Dan for short. I was sent by... Another man, to hunt down Jeeves in New York City. Apparently it was all a trap, that would lead me here. I'm a bit confused as to where I am now, so I would like someone to enlighten me," Dan said to the group. Jeeves was quite displeased with himself. He thought he could probably stir something up, but it was not to materialize.

"You will enlighten yourself, Dan. That I promise you," Jeeves spoke, straightening out his vest after Dan's menacing hold had ruined it. Certain bits of Jeeves' soul twitched, his resentment and tolerance for assassins of any kind was being pushed to a limit; nearly exceeding the simple barrier that held his anger apart from his curious nature. "I wish to ride quickly now," came a request from Alice, "I don't suppose either of you are likely to be able to keep up?" Jeeves looked up at Alice, then forwards.Without knowing where he was headed to, Jeeves just began walking forward, leaving everyone else behind.

The actions between Dan and Jeeves caught Nayo's attention immediately. Hostilities such as this usually led to a more physical reaction, and he stayed nearby, one hand grasping a throwing knife just in case this was the case. He wasn't particularly fond of this Jeeves character, but nor did he have anything against him. He was hired to preserve the safety of the group and Jeeves was one of the group. He watched Alice's new friend's actions out of the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow at her curious features, but he had seen many such curiosity in his time and ignored them. What did catch his attention though was the fact that she carried a weapon. He didn't get a glimpse of it, but he could tell that she was holding most likely a dagger or knife of some sort.

As the verbal battle wound out a bit, Nayo watched the girl relax, and eased his own grip on his weapon. He did note that this new comer was in a career field similar to his own and made a mental note not to trust him. *There is no loyalty or trust among assassins.* he though to himself.

Nayo watched the small show for a moment more as it came to a close and payed close attention to everyone's behavior. He noted realization and firm conviction in Dan's face, and frustration in Jeeves. Most likely because he was actually looking for confrontation Nayo guessed. Nayo noted Jeeves as someone who could potentially cause problems in the future and decided to keep an eye on the man.

Nayo turned as Alice gave a command to pick up the speed, and fell back to the rear of the group, picking up his speed.

Suroth waited at the edge of the stranger’s view. His fur was dirty with matted sections with his and another’s blood. His emerald feline eyes scanned their appearance and took note. He was a Lynx shifter. While it was clear no one would be able to pick up on the almost invisible magic signature, you already had to be a size shifter to even know and feel it, and he looked closely for the target. The faint trail leaked out like a droplet of blood dispersing in a small trickle of water… it wasn’t gone, yet it was hard to discern from almost everything else. It seemed to be centered along the two women on the Bray. He cursed when a faint ripple of fabric caught his eye, it was only marginally too stiff for its material, yet its disguise would hold up against all but the hood’s maker. He shifted on his haunches and drew his short bow.

The breeze was pulsing like breaths and that worried him; As long as it didn’t shift he wouldn’t care… He smelled like animal but the Ursas’ had only started a long war only not long ago.

He had been in the town, buying and selling goods with a few merchants when he saw Salos get sent flying over and disrupts the slave trade. Then he saw the Black Bear Ursa who committed the act, Halons, one of the cruelest feline haters in the Ursa race. Everything broke into chaos at that moment. Assassins and Rangers began to move for roof tops as soldiers tried to go forwards. Movement to his left helped him spot a few men who managed to gain a rooftop quickly, but his amusement turned to shock when he saw what, or rather who, leapt from Halons’ back. Saldon.

At that moment he grabbed his weapons and left, making sure his features were still covered as he rushed to stop the other. He held a short sword in one hand and his short bow in the other with and arrow gripped skillfully between ring and pinkie finger. Unfortunately Halons spotted him and made a swing, cutting low to the ground and crushing anyone underneath as others hit the wall of a paw and died instantly from the impact. Its finger-like digits curled into a fist as it was almost over him. Suroth leapt forwards and slashed with his sword for the thick wrist that was easily taller than he was. His blade dug into the flesh and the slight twitch managed to rip the blade from his hands and the underside of the arm struck his head and sent him spinning across the street into a merchant’s cart. He felt a heavy splash and realized fortune smiled on him as the sword had dug partly into one of the massive arteries… not the blade would have to remain if the Ursa wanted to live.

His smile quickly dropped as the Ursa got down on all fours and lunged for him. By now the soldiers of the town were slightly more organized and more assassins and rangers began to gain height and take aim. The singing of bows hummed in unison as the arrows struck across its hind legs and back. Distracted, it turned and swept at the annoyance and allowed Suroth to gain his feet and move quickly… but he wasn’t forgotten. The second paw smashed over him and squeezed him between its heavy digits as he felt the slight tingle of his skin and sink of his stomach as he was lifted. The light dazed him before realizing he dangled over Halons’ mouth, yet the great oaf made a mistake and gave him back the freedom of his arms. He pulled an arrow from a special quiver hidden within the hid of his armor as he slid his longbow off his other shoulder, off of his armors special holding clips. He could care less about the draw on the bow now and took aim. The Ursa shifter snarled as its great maw opened. Perfect.

The arrow shot true and pierced deep into the sot flesh in the back of its throat. And then he was released in a shocked jerk. He thought it was the end when he saw something pass underneath him… and outstretched arm. His eyes tried to focus on the Ursa, but it wasn’t there as a massive cloud of dust and some debris filled the gap. He looked to where the massive crash was heard and saw the injured Halons on the ground, choking on the arrow. He hit the fleshy appendage and felt the wind rush out of him.


He finally notched the arrow and took aim. Only when his eyes unclouded did he realize something was off… He saw it.

Hidden, not as well, in the shadows on the opposite edge was another Black Bear Shifter. It was lifting a javelin to throw at the Bray with the two women and he growled. He sprang from the side and growled, slightly startling the Brays with his wild cat screech. He released the arrow and it shot at the Ursa Shifter before it could even roar in surprise. The path carried it through a small gap between the women, almost scratching one on the face and, if it were any closer to the other, almost cutting some of the hair from the other. The deadly hooked barb pierced the Ursa through the eye… and only then did it roar as it died, one hand dropping while the other still moved in the motion to throw.

Time froze for Suroth, on one hand the javelin might kill the right woman and get Saldon with her, but then it might not… His life flashed passed quickly and he knew that this was the end. He gave a final yowl and charged the Bray, which gave a small start and skittered away. In one motion, from his full sprint after the yell, he lunged forwards and sailed over the two women and blocked the trajectory of the javelin. His eyes fogged and he shifted out a dagger he kept close to his chest and made a slash for the javelin’s head. It missed the dagger. But the thrown weapon didn’t miss his now exposed chest and he felt the ribs splinter as he was now also forced backwards. He skidded and bounced to the ground, inches from the startled Bray as the javelin stuck through his back and the head caught on the ground and Suroth remained motionless. His face was twisted in a fearsome yell as his eyes still seemed to blaze. But Suroth was dead… A heroic act for a foolish choice, but at least the Shifter Gods would smile upon his choices. While he couldn’t kill his half-brother, he defeated two fierce warriors with nothing but an arrow.

Suroth’s body didn’t move.

Her attention was drawn to Alice as she spoke, listening intently to her speech. She felt the twinge of impatience in her frame, and brought her fingers around her shoulders, kneading them lightly to produce a soothing effect. The light tightening of her fingertips was a subconscious notion towards her slight nervousness in picking up the pace of their walks; she enjoyed riding such animals like Brays, but she had never been the secondary in the mount. Her worry came from a repeating mental picture of her form flying off the back of the galloping Bray, her rump hitting the compact ground with such force the wind is knocked from her. Her slightly fearful reverie was broken by the sudden appearance of the large man.

He had been the one that given her a slight fright earlier, had caused her to jump when her purple eyes had befallen his massive frame. She leaned away from him without thinking about it, her half-hidden eyes blinking a handful of times as she tried to gather her courage. She didn’t want to seem so desperately weak around this man, but the blunt truth was he could squash her in one hand. But he began to talk, and though his voice was deep and rumbling, the words that passed his lips were truly friendly.

Gunther? One more name for her list. Her heart fluttered in happiness; more friends. And Gunney? Such a…a cute name for such a large brute. She hadn’t noticed, but she was smiling, rather brightly at that. Her lips were pulled back, the suppleness pushing against the tight teal fabric across them. Along with his absolutely adorable nickname, he had called her missy. Such a loving, childish name to attach to her. Yes, this Gunney would definitely be her friend. Most definitely.

But the problem of returning an answer for his question suddenly became a realization. Her smile diminished as she began to think, trying to come up with a way of explaining her unique situation. After a few moments of pondering she turned her visage to Gunney fully and brought her left hand to her throat. The movement had allowed the hood to pull back a bit, as it had earlier, revealing her facial evermore. She pointed with her longest finger to her throat and then shook her head, a few pieces of framing tresses flicking back and forth with the motion. She was trying so hard to communicate that her throat was of no use, that her vocal cords had never formed -- or had formed incorrectly, that she had never uttered a sound at all during her life; she could only hope the message was received. But these motions still didn’t answer his question.

Mentally, she thanked her attempts at friendship when she was younger. When she had loved the one who had backstabbed her, they had found a way for Enid to communicate, somewhat. Being children, their minds had been much more imaginative than they were currently, and, usually being in the forest, had decided to use the objects around them. As she had so many times in the past, Enid rose stiffly, legs clasped tightly about the middle of the Bray, and extended a hand. The fingers wrapped carefully around a single leaf and plucked it from it’s homely tree. She resettled on the Bray and took fingernail to the soft, lighter side of the leaf, drawing it gently yet sharply along the fleshy surface. She worked on it only a moment, though it seemed longer to her; the bouncing of the mount forced her to take a few extra seconds to make the letters legible.

She offered Gunney the leaf, a single word upon it: Enid.

She smiled, a light sparkling within her eyes, only to be completely extinguished. She caught a flash of an image of a personage in the trees beyond, but, much closer to her, a flying arrow. She jerked her head to the side, giving the deadly weapon more space to pass between herself and Alice. She had reacted by closing her eyes, refusing to open them only until she heard a scuffle to the opposite side of her and a feral yell from someone now traveling above her. She whipped her head around and opened her eyes, seeing some kind of dead bear to the side and the man from the other side of the road now lying here with a spear-like weapon through his form. Without thinking, she slid off the back of the mount and cast herself at the man’s side, her hood flinging off, tresses pulling from being tucked away, the mass of hair bubbling and spiraling against her back and shoulders, the brighter blue standing out against the earthy tones near her. She could only assume that the Ursa had been the wicked one and the man the good. She drew his head into her lap a slid her fingers along his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse. His eyes were still ablaze, still bright, his mouth in a slack yell, but the pulse was not there. She sent her fingers down his chest, searching for the faintest flicker of movement beneath his ribcage; nothing. Her eyes gazed up at Gunther and Alice, looking for them, seeing if they had stopped to come and assist. A look of sheer helplessness emitted from her as she shook her head and gazed back down at the unknown man, indicating she had found no signs of life within his frame. Gently she lifted his head from her lap and rested it upon the hard ground. She stood, slowly, methodically, swallowing in an attempt to push away the odd need to weep for this person she didn’t know.

So she stood there, gazing into the man’s far away stare, head bowed, blue hair creating a curtain between herself and the world.

Why was she taking this personally?